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Friday, Apr. 29, 2016
Wine & CheesePosted Sunday, February 13, 2011, at 11:54 AM
If you ever attend parties thrown by the muckity-mucks, you will surely notice that they typically offer wine and cheese. I have been very blessed in my life and have been privileged to travel in many circles. The hoi-ploy is very proud of their imported European cheeses.
In my opinion, nothing beats Wisconsin cheese. (You never know what kind of drugs are in California cows.) Any variety of cheese from Europe you can imagine is as finely crafted in Wisconsin if not better.
Last week, I was hosting a small party. The principal fare included Buffalo wings and Steel City beer. We were there to watch "The Big Game."
My one true love is the Indianapolis Colts. For richer or poorer, for better or worse, it's the Colts.
But my first love was the Pittsburgh Steelers. I confess that I still carry a torch in my heart for my Steelers.
I was born in Lancaster Pennsylvania. Although this is relatively close to Philadelphia, relatively distant from Pittsburgh, I have never liked the Eagles but always loved the Steelers. My wife Yvette, is from Altoona, PA, relatively close to Pittsburgh. She comes from a family of Steeler fans. What could be better than the Steelers back in the Super Bowl, a few friends, a variety of Buffalo wings, and Steel City brew? (Except the Colts!)
A friend of mine is a Packer fan. I don't hold it against him, he can't help it. He's from Wisconsin. It's not his fault that he wasn't raised right. He doesn't know better. Besides, he is a great guy with no other faults that I can find.
Needless to say, during the game, even though the Packers caught a couple lucky breaks early on, I had to harass him and let him know exactly what I thought. After all, if he didn't learn right as a child in his own home, someone who cares has to set him straight.
As it turns out, somewhere in the comose there must have been a huge supernova or other galactic tragedy, which distracted God for a few hours. Some way, some how, the Evil One was able to pull a couple of fast ones and destiny was foiled.
I called my friend. He tried to be empathetic. He reminded me that there was always a next time. He even offered consolation to help me feel better.
The following Monday was a long day in Court. When it was finally over, back in my office, I discovered a beautiful plate covered with an assortment of scrumptious Wisconsin cheeses. Each and every variety tasted delicious. However, they all left a slight aftertaste of sour grapes.
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