For no good reason that I can remember, I recently decided to give my good friend ZeroBear PolyBear a shot at authoring one of my weekly posts. Here it comes:
Maybe I should share some background.
ZeroBear PolyBear - Vita:
DOB 12/25/1982
ZeroBear PolyBear, was the unexpected result of an end of shift combination of the discarded remnants of a Gorgeous Sleeping Bag (Mother) and a Handsome Bathmat (Father). He is one of the few remaining sober representatives of PolyBearus domesticus, AKA His Supreme Highness, The Bestest PolyBear of all Time, Crack ShootsGun Shot and Front Bedroom Security Chief of Mumzie and Da's humble abode,
Current Residence - Mumzie and Da's house, Clinton, MS, Hinds County, State of Mississippi, USA, 3rd Planet (Earth) of the Sol Star Planetary System, Milkyway Galaxy, Cosmos Quadrant XM774321-DD4217-IZ88732, Star Date 2743.72269 ZBT.
Official Proof of Existence (via Governmental Issued Driver's License):
Postgraduate studies - Sam's Bar and Diploma Mill, Stinking Creek, KY
Anyhow,
The Bear decided to go all scholarly on me and submitted the following photo enhanced scholarly dissertation for your consideration. Here it is and for better (possibly) or worse (more likely), I agreed to share it with you. Good Luck. You may need it.
My apologies to the King of all Fishes.
By: ZeroBear PolyBear, esq, BS, MS, PhD, LLP, MD, CQE, ABC, XYZ, GED, PPT, SOB, (etc.)
*******
We will begin at the beginning. Pay attention Grasshoppers. There will be a quiz at the end.
Any treatise on ancient culinary arts would be incomplete without a journey down the smoky pathway of time.
Together, we’re going back to the point in time when that most sacred of manly cooking methods was conceived. No, Bumbullas, we’re not talking about the first instance of Crock Pot Cooking.
Our trip will take us to the day when BBQ came into existence.
It was a point in culinary time before the marriage of Smokey Joe’s Kansas City Rib Rub and Green Eggs Pits/
We’re going back to times before the first Texas chuck wagon chef left a brisket too close to the bean fire.
Back to even before King Nebuchadnezzar won his Campfire Cooking Patch in the Cub Scouts.
Let’s go back to those misty prehistory days of flying reptiles,
Before there were Geckos you could saddle and ride like a horse,
When rock star bands included guys named Ooba,
Grog,
and desperados from the cave clan anthropologists know as the Doodies.
In
fact, let’s turn the clock back to about One Million BC and
days that predate Homo erectus,
Our culinary journey back in time will take us to the first night of a full autumn moon
And a happy band of men,
dancing in fevered ecstasy
around a roaring fire.
Their bodies were smeared brown with mud
and accented with magical sacred and mysterious markings in the stark whiteness of clay, highlighted with redness
that has always indicated manly wisdom.
Sound comes to us as they mimic the noise of the hunt, moving to an inner rhythm of the heart,
thrusting their spears
toward the fullness of the moon
As
they sing the oldest of ancient magic chants known to man.
“Boom
chucka lucka lucka”
“Boom
chucka lucka lucka”
“Sally's got her red dress on!”
The intensity of the dance continues through the night as they whirl and swirl around the dying embers,
urging the appearance of the first rays of the sun and the beginning of the hunt. Finally, dawn arrives.
and they stagger to their pickup trucks and put on their Timber Oak® Camo vests.
Time is wasting and they are anxious to strike out to take on the massive woolly mammoths during their fall migration down I-75 from Detroit, Michigan to the family condo in West Palm Beach, FL.
From the moment they leave the safety of the cave alcove and their hunter’s fire, they will be in his element, a sobering point they understand very well.
Knowing this, they salute him with one last Brewski before taking to the woods.
Our historical recounting now shifts to Ugga the Hunter,
as he sits atop his Tallman’s Tree Climber® Wooly Mammoth tree stand.
He has been quietly scanning the forest primeval for hours, anxiously watching for any sign of an approaching mammoth but sadly seeing nothing.
The six cans of Red Bird Sausages
and the three potted meat sandwiches he consumed
with the gusto of a hound dog
at the campfire the previous night are doing a job on his gut and he finally decides that he can wait no longer. He must shinny down to the ground and go see a man about a goat. He has barely begun to relieve himself,
when he looks up and sees the biggest beast, he has ever encountered, is charging directly toward him, enraged by the stench of his digestive void.
Ugga is a mighty warrior; a hunter without equal and he immediately responds to the charge,
running away from the beast for all he is worth, screaming like a little girl.
This tactic does not deter the beast at all and the animal continues to close fast on Ugga. Death by stomping is within only a few feet when Ugga trips over an exposed root and falls to the ground. His spear flies free from his hairy hand and at the end of a perfect two revolution flight, impales itself squarely into the heart of the mammoth.
The beast takes two more steps and then falls to the ground, dead, dead, dead. Ugga stands in silent amazement, unable to believe his hunter’s skill has triumphed yet again.
Within minutes, he has removed his Uncle Jimmy switch blade flint knife and fashioned a drag sled from a few hickory and apple wood limbs the beast has plowed to the ground in its charge. He covers the beast with a layer of aromatic leaves and savory herbs to chase away the flies and within an hour he is happily making his way back to camp, pulling the beast along behind him as he sings the sacred song.
“We are the champions my friends.
And we’ll keep on fighting till the end.
We are the champions.
We are the champions.
Da, Da, dada da...
Da, Da, dada da…
Champions, Champions
Da DA dada da”
Ugga has come within shouting distance of his camp when a sudden thunderstorm overtakes him. He ducks under an outcropping of rock as the lightning flashes again and again. Then, disaster strikes.
“NOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooooooozzzzzz!”
The lightning bolt has struck the sled and the flames are rising fast. There is no way he can extinguish the fire and so he watches helplessly as the sled is quickly reduced to a bed of coals beneath the fruits of his labor, now smoking in the wet leaves and fragrant herbs. He is sadly standing, staring at the remains when a strange odor drifts into his hairy nostrils.
What’s that wonderful smell? Hickory and apple smoke? Fragrant herbs and spices?
He pulls a morsel away from the tender flank of the Mammoth and chews thoughtfully. What has he discovered? What has reduced this carcass to a flavor suitable for the gods?
Suddenly, it hits him. You could make a fortune selling this stuff to the parents of all the little Braxtons and Kimberlys at the spring traveling T-Ball league tournament.
At this point, his wife and the love of his life, Shiela,
comes running up the pathway to Ugga.
She has been pulled toward him and the now fully cooked beast by the fragrant deliciousness of perfectly smoked mammoth wafting toward her on the afternoon air.
She takes one look at her husband and speaks.
“Is this all you got? You’ve been gone a week and this is all I see! Alicia’s husband, Grog, was only gone for an hour and brought home two mammoth hind quarters and a mess of hippo ribs. By the way, Didn't I tell you before you left that the grass needs cutting!!!!!”
AAaaaaarrRRRRrrrGGGH!
************
Terminus Endus!
Thanks for making it to the end of the Bear's post.
God Bless You
11 comments:
Well, that was interesting. I highly recommend a movie called "Quest for Fire" to learn how fire was discovered, harnessed, stolen, recovered and eventually self-created by a small group of early men. It's hilarious, tearjerking, violent and thoroughly enjoyable.
Are you saying that y'all made your bear out of an old bathmat and sleeping bag?!
Wow! What a quest! And undoubtedly true! Now, I know and will be forever thankful for finally realizing the origin of smoked woolly mammoth. By the way, the stuff is still as delicious now as it was when first discovered.
The story kind of reminds me of when Daniel Boone crossed the Delaware and went elk hunting. Thanks so much for such an exhilarating tale!
"Ugga is a mighty warrior; a hunter without equal and he immediately responds to the charge, running away from the beast for all he is worth, screaming like a little girl."
Classic.
Can he use that ID to vote?
Slow Day here?
Most of the photos were taken at Burning Man.
BBQ an Americanization of Spanish "Barbacoa".
Bravo! More from the bear please
Since Kingfish will not reply, does anyone out there know what a ZeroBearPolyBear is?
ZeroBear is the little guy in the first photo. He is a PolyBear, which is self-explanatory. He has lived with his Mumzie and Da, since 1982. By the way, he has a yellow leg.
By the way, His Da likes to cook. ZeroBear likes Shootsguns.
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