Blog Clogs Arterie

I am new to the almighty Blogdom, yet I am already feeling its power. This weekend I went to the small logging town of Forks, WA to look into a story on the source of wood and paper products. Forks' main street begins and ends where Highway 101 slows down for one blinking light and one traffic light. Despite its proximity to the nation's most rugged, arguably most beautiful coastline (20 minute drive to La Push) in one direction and the UNESCO Biosphere Reserve Hoh Rain Forest in the other, the town remains a pass-through kind of place. Its residents depend on the ever-shrinking logging business. There aren't many places to eat. The Forks Cafe works fine.

I didn't feel up for steak or a burger (last night) so I jumped on the breakfast-all-day option. Oddly, though, it offered four main items: Canadian ham, bacon, corned beef hash, or hamburger steak. Each served with two eggs, hash browns and toast. I like eggs and bacon so I ordered the bacon. A few minutes later, a plate came to me with six slices of the thick-cut, well-cooked stuff. Six slices all tangled up in one another like an unruly litter of puppies. To the side sat my eggs over easy, toast, and hash browns.

Six slices.

That's when the blog tried to kill me. I told myself not to eat them all... I'll wake up sweating, parched, perhaps lethargic in the extremities. But the thought of writing about having eaten an entire plate of bacon as my dinner entree was irresistible.

I strategically placed one piece on an egg sandwich. Repeat. Eggs down.

I tried to sop up yoke with the third slice and it worked about as well as cleaning a paint spill with a wet shower curtain. But I ate the yellowed slice and it was good, too.

My final two toast halves enwrapped four and five like broken-zippered sleeping bags around boy scouts.

The sixth sat alone, ignored by me, the proud, healthy, disciplined diner. But the waitress dallied and the bacon remained, an island of savory temptation. I tried to keep my eye on the televised football game. But it wandered, following my mind.

The blog, David. Think about the blog for once.

Bacon VI went down smooth and naked, nothing to compete with the buttery fat edged in salty crispness.

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