Wednesday, September 03, 2008

My Spoon

I just finished my oatmeal lunch. I walked over to the sink to clean out my bowl and wash off my spoon. I looked down at my spoon as I rubbed the stubborn uneaten oatmeal off of it and realized something odd about this spoon.

It's just a spoon. It's silver, of the tablespoon size as opposed to what the kids call 'little spoons.' It's a bit fatter at the handle than the scoopy part and has a bit of a raised, twisting pattern with a few raised flowers for extra grip, in my opinion. Subtle, not flashy. A working spoon, nothing of beauty but a bit of flair.

I've had this spoon for a while. I remember that it matches an old set my parents had. Mom probably bought it at Sears back in the late 1980s. It's that kind of spoon. I wonder what she did with the rest of the set, minus one spoon. Probably took it to a local church. She does that a lot.

I remember when I 'stole' this spoon from my parents. I'm sure we had all used this spoon many times at Casa de Klasmeier in Arden. After college, I rolled out to CA for some fun in the sun. This spoon was one of the last things that I grabbed as I over-packed my 1986 Jeep CJ-7 Renegade for the long haul across the US. It was 1996. June.

In San Diego, I ate with it. It traveled to work with me at Bikes USA (gone now), Speedplay and Bikes By the Bay (also gone). I made hundreds of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with it. Spoons are better for PBJ, by the way. It's all about spreading the PB with the back of the spoon and scooping the jelly. Don't try this at home, I'm a pro.

I made a few hundred more PBJs at Calmar Cycles and Trail Head Cyclery in San Jose. I never got sick of 'em. I'm a big strawberry guy when it comes to jelly and I like the big chunks. Skippy Super Chunk is my favorite PB but it's nice to go creamy every once and a while. Boysenberry is good. Whatever is on sale is also good when you are a broke-ass bike mechanic. Oh, and wheat bread... Never white.

This spoon has been camping at races. It followed me to more PBJ at the League on K St then to City Bikes in Adams Morgan and Chevy Chase. It stirred quite a few cups of coffee, too. I wiped it off on a napkin after licking it clean almost every day. I almost never washed it and it didn't care.

It lived with me in Takoma park through three roommates, surviving the move back from CA to MD. My future wife moved in and it witnessed me living in sin. I'm sure we've both used it. It moved from Takoma Park to scenic Crofton. It even survived new silverware. Did I know it was special or old or well-traveled? Maybe, but I never thought about it one way or another before. It's just always been there. And now kids. I bet the spoon never saw that coming!

These days, the spoon has a relaxed life in my desk drawer at work. It rests in my orange plastic bowl, also destined for legend. It scoops grounds for espresso and soups for lunch. It stirs oatmeal before and after the microwave then delivers warm goodness to my belly.

It's a spoon. It's a spoon that I've had for a long time. I don't think I'd be terribly upset if I lost it as it would just be time for another spoon. I can't even imagine what this poor spoon thinks of me...

Long Live the Spoon!


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