Before I got married, I hung out with some great guys. We had lots of fun crashing dances, playing racquetball until we were so tired we couldn’t move, and being overall silly. We found lots of things funny—one of them was Spam. I’m not talking about unwanted emails. This was way before those were even invented.
No, I’m talking about the mystery meat found in a blue can with gold letters (which happened to be my high school’s colors now that I think about it—coincidence?)
While going to college, I was invited to a picnic with a bunch of other people my age. It was one of those where we would bring something to share, and provide our own meat that would then be barbequed at the picnic site. Lots of the manly men brought big T-bone steaks and the like. I brought a can of spam. And it was the hit of the party.
Later, when I started dating my then yet-to-be wife, I declared one day there were three things she must do in this lifetime:
1. Date me.
2. Watch “Star Wars” (She’d never seen it.)
3. Eat Spam.
So, on April 25, 1991, I cooked her up some Spam. She was too polite to say what she really thought of it. However, it must not have been too bad, because every April 25th, we eat Spam.
In fact, as I write this, I can smell it cooking in the other room…