Quick! A substitution. Colleen thinks it poor taste to “diss” Jane. Delete post. Make up a new one. Ok!
I’m not nuts. I am not a nut. I am….
I have been a surgeon. And yet I am squeamish breaking down a lobster. Imagine! Me? Really?! Yup. No fun! You start by pulling off its head!!
They happened to catch a large tuna the same day we were there. We saw it. I was a brain surgeon. Guts have no appeal for me. Yeah, and brains do? Nuts
Meanwhile, a substitution so as not to “diss” Jane. Colleen doesn’t love eating lobster but will force herself if I do the dissection. Great! If you got my deleted post, ignore the “dis.” I meant no harm. Honest.
Break it down
Consider that I do not eat lobster. I like the taste of lobster bisque? Who doesn’t like cream? I can and did watch Lisa (a long time ago) eat lobster. I even cooked them. But, to take one apart. That is an entirely different matter. It is – squeamishly – like first year anatomy in med school. Nope. Not for me. I did it – in med school. I do it now for Colleen. This old (we are?!), and she never did her own lobster. Uh!?? How?! Ok, me. I was tapped to break it down. And then she ate it. First, you tear off its head. Ah! I can do that! The whole process is almost enough to make me a vegetarian. As for tearing off its head, well, I am a former neurosurgeon now….
Without an agenda, we ambled up and down the coast of Maine. I was always a failure at fishing (non sequitur). Lobstermen make a fine living every day? We stop by chance at stores along the road. For instance, this is a weaving store stop. They spin and weave expensive items. We don’t buy. I have my very own spinner and weaver in the car. But, we look. Ideas. The prices are breathtaking for handwoven articles. We just don’t produce in quantity. So, I will never break even. Colleen looks; I get photo ops – free.
There’s a TV show: The Best Thing I Ever Ate. The title is apropos. It’s too simple: a lobster shooter. Add lobster to a glass of butter in a shot glass. But memorable!! Colleen still talks about it. We were passing thru town past another lobster restaurant. Maine, there are lots of lobster. Do ya think? Colleen still talks about it. I had the old wedding standard – scallops wrapped in bacon.
Do you embarrass your spouse before or after lunch? Before she’s officially your spouse? Guess? Did I say Lincolnville, Maine?
Do it yourself
Well, this was a first for me. I’m old. This is my first lobster. I don’t eat lobster. Nope! Nada! Never! Ok! But sometimes a bit of lobster bisque. I like the wine flavor. I’ve cooked/steamed lobster. I didn’t like that either. Afterward I turned over the carcass to the eater. The most fun I have had is in shooting a lobster. Yeah yeah, I mean photographing one while scuba diving. But finally, I am subject to the dissection. My companion would eat it steamed but had never taken one apart. At least I knew the theory. Oh, the mess! And the smell of lobster juice on your fingers… no! I did not do anything more than dissect… nary a taste. When you consider that: how you say the title can have two different meanings. I prefer a command interrogative, not entirely accurate but it sounds good. Now that I have broken down a lobster, bring it on!
The don’t like white light. Great! Tell me after the dive. I learned this on my own, thank you very much. My buddy found it, three in fact. He did not bother to chase down the little one. He tells me this afterward! The first one was impossible. Everything was against me. Current, backscatter, and shyness (the lobster’s). Everyone loves to eat lobster. He knows it too.
Racial consciousness? You know that a one time in Maine lobster was fed to the workers for dinner. And they objected. There are signs saying that lobster could not be served more than twice a week. I paraphrase but that is the gist. Ugly. I was afraid to touch it. It reminds me of a roach. I hate them too. My book names three different lobsters with the same color markings so take your pick. Lobster! No claws! Funny. The lobster has no claws, the best eating part according to my friends who eat them. And the shrimp around here have claws. Go figure?
Shy but not too bright. A pun. The poor guy would hide from the light but as soon as it was off he’d poke his head out again. They also say that lobsters have a brain the size of a roach. Fine. But roaches are a whole lot smarter. I never got a clear shot at any roach in my house. And they are big too. Remember Raid – Roach Motel – roaches check in and don’t check out? It was a box with roach allure and glue to hold the insect. On night the box shook. I thought we’d caught a mouse. Nope, a big roach came out of the box, shook off his legs, and continued on across the floor. They fly too! But that’s another story. But if you’ve never seen a grown man dive for the floor when a roach dive bombed… no, it wasn’t me.
It was the end of the dive and I was under a rock looking. Hmm, would that be I’ve been under a rock? Aha! A lobster, I shot several images. They were bright and colorful. Sharp, in focus, well exposed! What luck! Too bad, it was dead, the victim of some other predator. Inhuman I suspect because the lobster did not have the distinct red shell of boiling. Dead nonetheless and my image hopes faded. Upside down and missing the tail half it was an exciting find for about a second. It wasn’t there any longer the next time I looked.