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“Talking About Gizzards”
One of my favorite pals is Dr. Joel Krugler. He is a retired business executive and physicist who with his beautiful wife, Nayfee, have come to live in Cornelius. Joel's mind never rests. Since he came south he has been on a constant quest to learn all things southern. So, when I mentioned in a recent column that “I get soggy around the gizzard…” in reference to patriotism, Joel started “googling” to find out what I was talking about. He wrote to tell me his search eventually led back to your devoted scribe. I had used the term in a column last Thanksgiving. He found plenty about gizzards but nothing about “soggy gizzards” except my lone reference. So he wrote me about it and also made a gentle implication about my having reused old material. Well, as you who have written me know, I always answer my mail.
“Dear Joel, Re: the gizzard stuff. I can't claim much originality for anything. However, I do believe I am the originator of the “soggy” reference. The gizzard is, in so far as I am concerned, a foul but necessary part of the fowl. Many people, including my beloved Judy, like to eat fried gizzard of the chicken. Not I, most emphatically! As you know, the gizzard contains small pebbles swallowed by the chicken. This gravel helps grind the corn and seeds the chicken eats. Therefore it contributes to the development of the drumsticks which are only marginally better to eat. (I am personally a breast man.) So the gizzard is a hardworking and essential part of birdly anatomy, worthy of respect if not gastronomy. Therefore I have thought it gallant to afford the lowly gizzard a seat of southern sentimentality--hence “soggy around the gizzard.” Your epistle to me has inspired me to feature the gizzard and other fowl references in my column for this week.
“However, I will now turn to a discussion of my proclivity for plagiarism. I have long held that all originality and no plagiarism makes me a dull writer. Sadly, I have come to the realization that American literary life has arrived at such a sorry state that I am forced to plagiarize myself. Having been caught in this ethical transgression, I am considering suing myself for fraud. I will not try to weasel out of this lapse. Basketball legend Charles Barkley once claimed, about something said in his autobiography: “I was misquoted.” No, I am a standup guy. I will be held to account. While I am taking this matter under advisement and I ponder whether to bring suit against me, I make a solemn promise to all my loyal readers. Until this matter is resolved and I am fully vindicated, I will not, under any circumstances, read this stuff I am writing any more. I am herewith beginning my search for an experienced defense attorney.”
Well, dear friends, I'll let you know if anything ever comes of this. I will close this extra- crispy communiqué with the oldest fried chicken joke I know. As a preacher who has helped countless chickens enter the ministry, I feel honor-bound to keep this story alive. A city feller was driving to Raleigh one day when he saw what he thought was a game rooster speed past him like a shot out of a rocket. Moments later, it happened again. Soon he spotted a farmer leaning against a roadside fence. He stopped and told the farmer what he thought he had seen and asked if it were possible. “Shore it is,” replied the farmer. “My son is going to school over at the Community College where they are trying to develop a chicken with three legs. They figure that because people love to eat drumsticks, if they can produce more drumsticks per chicken, we'll all get rich. You saw two of them chickens.” The traveler asked, “Well, how do they taste?” To which the farmer replied, “We don't know. We ain't never caught one yet!”
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