Day 10 – Writing 101: Today we write about a childhood favorite meal – in our own distinctive voice. Okay then. The question is, what is my distinctive voice?
Yes, you read the title correctly. Hamburger Pie. Say it with me, slowly.
Is it a hamburger? Is it a pie? Oh yes, it is.
That’s how I remember my excitement back when I was 11, maybe 13. I remember this, not because it was such a fantastic meal, but because I invented it. I set out to create something for my birthday meal, and I delivered a hamburger pie.
It was delicious. It was beyond delicious. It was empowering.
When I was a kid, I don’t remember being “accomplished” at many things. In fact, I was probably pretty lazy at most things. It wasn’t even laziness. It was apathy. I just didn’t care too much to really push myself to do anything. I was good at school. It came easy to me, so why strain myself? I kept at a good average and coasted my way through academics. There was no desire. No drive.
But this, this was different. I actually wanted to create something. I had a desire to do something that I hadn’t the first clue in how to begin it. I wasn’t a cook. There was no buried chef deep within me clawing to be free. I simply decided one day that I wanted to make something brand new, and so I did it.
And it was good. It was so good.
But, then I went back to my apathy. It was good for that one time, but the desire was finished after that. Of course, there are probably a million reasons that lie underneath that apathy, but that is a post for another time.
It wasn’t until years later that I really appreciated this hamburger pie: When I left home and was on my own and apathy was an old nightmare that I vaguely remembered. Regret was my new friend. Regret that I had let apathy have such a hold on me for so long.
So, I made hamburger pie again for friends.
Only, they told me that they’d had it before.
I invented it. How could they possibly have had it before?
It turns out that I’m not the culinary genius I may have thought, but it didn’t matter by this time in my life. Honestly, today I wouldn’t eat the dish. Thanks to my wife, I do try and eat a bit healthier.
What I realized, though, is that I could do something if I really desired to do it. It didn’t matter if I had no experience and no idea on how to begin. I could do it. I could do it and it would be good.
It would be very good.
I still struggle with keeping this thought in mind, but much of my life has been defined by at least trying. There’s a task in front of me, an obstacle that seems insurmountable, and I go for it. Usually, I find a way.
Now, this isn’t because of my own doing most of the time. This is because I know where to go for resources and answers. It’s the geniuses around me.
I guess that’s why I look back on hamburger pie as my favorite childhood meal. It wasn’t because it was mind-blowing yummy, but because it was my first taste in knowing I can accomplish something.
Nothing sheds the pounds of apathy like a delicious meal of empowerment.