Meatman Revisits

The Meatman showed up at our door again. I’ve been trying to dodge him for weeks. I just don’t have use for his meat any more. I’ve tried to explain that he needs to find younger customers…people with little kids at home to feed…and not a couple of empty-nesters. We don’t need many worms any more. In short, I would say...it's not the meat...it's the notion.

The Meatman is the guy who delivers meat to our house…and I’m talking pork chops, hamburger, steaks, chicken. By the way, I don’t call him Meatman to his face. I actually use his real name.

When his truck pulls up to our house, I know I am instantly on the meat hook.

We have known the Meatman for 19 years. The first day he showed up out of nowhere. Drove up in his pick-up truck with one of those deep freezers with the smoking ice. A regular butcher on wheels.

With 3 little kids running around…I was an easy sell. It seemed like a great idea. I would always have something I could throw on the table…I mean lovingly set out for my beautiful family. The problem now is, all 3 kids are not here anymore to eat all that meat. Do I need to be sitting at home...gnawing on spare ribs and ham shanks?

Being the salesman that he is…he gives me all the reasons why I should stock my freezer with meat. Like…I would have food for whenever Colinboy came home from college…and did I know college boys ate a lot of food? (Meaty idea, Mr. Meatman.) And I could have my friends over and entertain them. (Now that is an entertaining idea.)

He likes to remind me how he has known me a long time...since Wishy was a baby in my belly. When he pulls that pork chop out of his meat locker, I know he is going for the hard, sentimental sell. He never gives up unless he has sold you.

So it’s a box of frozen hockey puck burgers for the next month. I invite you to stop by...ANYTIME...for a little meat and greet.