September 6, 2007

What’s better than a good old-fashioned cookout? Maybe a duffel bag full of unmarked twenties, but besides that, nothing. I used to run a summer camp over on Martha’s Vineyard for a few years. Best business I ever had. Rich idiots would drop off their little ones at this spot I found in a state forest and then they’d pay me to babysit the kids for the day. We had all kinds of fun activities, like Sprint Races, Instructional Walking, Move These Rocks, Singing, and Full-Contact Red Rover Red Rover. I didn’t want to waste my profits on something stupid like food for the kids, so I had to find a way to get some grub on the cheap. That’s when Crafty Creed got to thinking. Why not make money off of this untapped pool of adorable labor I was sitting on?

So I contracted with a textile dealer and had the kids make “friendship bracelets” all day. Sold them at tourist traps as authentic Indian crafts and made a bundle. Ended up trading a case of bracelets for a freezer full of hot dogs and boom – the kids were happy. And that’s what it’s really all about, isn’t it? Sadly, I had to shut down the camp when one of my six-year-olds complained to his parents that his fingers hurt from all the bracelet-making.


Went to six barbeques on Labor Day. They were great, Made some new friends, ate my weight in encased meats, and drank my way into $300 after challenging some guy named Tiny Franklin to a drinking contest. First time I’ve ever beaten a midget in anything. It felt good.


Most people like cookouts for the camaraderie. Not me. I go for the free drinks and the relish. You don’t see relish used a lot anymore, but it’s my favorite condiment by far. I can eat it for every meal. In 1981, I ate relish every day for three months. I tell you what, you get into a bind and all you’ve got is a jar of relish, just heat up that jar and you’ve got yourself some delicious relish soup. I’m getting hungry just thinking about it.