For Richard or Poorer
One Knight Stand
Take Your Mark
Judging a Book
Not All Fruitcakes Are Bad
A Small Kansas Town
I’ve never been very fond of fruitcake.
I mean, the different parts of it are okay—the cake part, the nut part, the fruit part—it’s just that, when you put it all together, it sometimes doesn’t exactly mesh, if you get my drift. So I’m one of those people who pick out the cakey part and leave everything else…when the cake is good, that is. I have to admit though, sometimes there isn’t much cake there and it’s pretty much all just dried up old fruits and nuts.
Now I’m not dissing people who like fruitcake—my dad likes fruitcake now and then—but I have to admit, since he had his wisdom teeth pulled—by the way, waiting until you’re in your forties to do so…not such a good idea—he doesn’t have the most discriminating taste buds anymore. The doctor said something about actually seeing the nerve after the tooth was yanked out, which I took to not be a good thing.
Anyway, when it comes to fruitcakes, I guess what I’m trying to say is that sometimes you gotta pick out the good parts and ignore the yucky stuff…or else learn to bake your own.
That was how I came to see the fruitcake that lived down the street. Of course, that took some time and effort on my part and was totally unintentional at first, but I’m getting ahead of myself.