I don’t usually order pancakes in restaurants. I’m not anti-pancake, mind you. I love making them, because they’re simple. I like when the air pockets turn into little craters in the batter as it cooks. I dig the sound of the half-done carbohydrate bomb sizzling when I flip it over. I enjoy the smell wafting from the hot pan.
But eating pancakes? Eh. I’d rather have chicken sausage, scrambled eggs, and some sort of hippie toasted bread or, even better, a zillion-grain English muffin.
Give me some fresh fruit. Get all British and put a plate of baked beans in front of me. Sautéed kale with onion and garlic? Sure. And will I spend too much money on some high-falutin “grain bowl” thing I could make for nearly free at home? Yes indeed.
But pancakes? At a restaurant? Like I said, eh.
However.
I’ve been doing some traveling lately, and I’ve got more coming up soon. When you travel, you’re at the mercy of the airport/truck stop breakfast gods. Sometimes, pancakes are the most reliable item on the menu. I have yet to eat any recently, but they may be in my near future.
I used to travel all the time, or try to, anyway. I wanted to move constantly, be on the road, do gigs, book tour stops, teach workshops in person, fly hither and yon for shows and dates and whatever else. I didn’t want to sit still and feel my feelings. I ate all kinds of food all over the place at all hours of the day or night.
I like to plan, but you can’t plan everything out about a trip. Sometimes you eat what you love, and sometimes you eat what you like, and sometimes you eat what’s available. I could make an analogy to dating, but I won’t, because people aren’t substances to be used as filler just because they are available. I’ve done it, and maybe so have you, but we shouldn’t.
Conversely, I wonder if you know what it’s like to realize you are that kind of “well, I guess this is fine for now” meal for somebody else. I do. It is not pleasant.
I guess I made the dating analogy after all.
The people part is over. Let’s let pancakes be pancakes. When I imagine the traveling I’ve got coming up, I can picture a shabby, friendly roadside diner. I can smell a plate of pancakes with butter melting all over them.
Maybe I’ll order mine with chocolate chips. Chocolate can cover all manner of mistakes. Throw some strawberries on top, too. And more butter. Or, you know, your favorite dairy-free butter substitute. This is an inclusive fantasy.
I don’t have to finish the whole thing. I can have a few bites, drink some water, maybe have some shitty coffee. I’ll tip well, no matter what the food is like. People work hard, especially in places where travelers descend in all manner of moods. They deserve good things.
I will try to be a good thing, for those folks and for myself.
Recommendations
These are things I’ve read, wish to read, and/or think we should all read/use/absorb. Links aren’t sponsored (please sponsor me in cash money or rewards points, thank you). Anyway, if there’s something you think I should check out, email saratoninnewsletter@gmail.com.
Boundary Boss by Terri Cole - My buddy recommended this one. It’s by a highly experienced, licensed psychotherapist who seems to really know her shit. I’m listening to the audiobook. It’s good stuff, and while it’s targeted at (probably straight, probably cis) women, I think there’s something in here for everyone. Actually, the buddy who recommended it is a dude, so hey. The author makes a point in the audiobook that I can sum up as follows: regardless of your gender, if you find it hard to set boundaries with others, you may dig this book.
The Creative Act: A Way of Being by Rick Rubin - I truly can’t stop recommending this one to other human beings.
Creative Quest by Questlove - I read this one awhile ago. It’s fantastic. The richly-produced audiobook is even better.
Emily’s List - They recruit, train, and support pro-choice women Democrats running for office up and down the ballot, from the school board to the White House. I’ve been on their Creative Council since 2016. I believe in the work that they do. They invest in candidates early and often.
- Reading it is always interesting and a good time for me. I hope it is for you, too.No writing advice this week. I’m tired and the month draws to a close. You’ll get four of these issues as usual in March, and if you want two extra pieces of writing (usually essays, sometimes something involving visual art too) then please become a paid subscriber.
Regardless, thank you for being here and reading this. It means a lot to me.
Best wishes,
Sara Benincasa