The Outsider: Shotguns and serving spoons
|By Will Jones - The Outsider | May 24, 2018|
As I drove to work recently, I listened with interest to an interview on the CBC. The radio host was discussing the success of a recent province-wide gun amnesty with some bigwig from the OPP. It seems that all manner of unwanted and unlicensed firearms had been handed over to the police by people who had rifles, shotguns, hand guns, even black powder guns tucked away in closets and cupboards. Guns that had been lent to them; left in the estate of some long gone relative; or, just plain forgotten by a now long distant neighbour. Folks simply took them to their local police station and handed them in; all feelings of guilt, shame and worry lifting as the smiling police officers relieved them of their unwanted weapons.
Now, I am a gun owner and I like the few guns that I have and I own a license for them, too. But this radio interview got me thinking about a different but altogether just as potentially guilt-ridden and embarrassing problem that I have. And it’s one that I just know many of you folks will have been worrying over too. What to do with the collection of crockery and utensils left at your house after those potluck dinners? The stuff that has been hanging around for too long now; long enough that it would be embarrassing to just go ahead and, well, return it.
I have to admit that my kitchen cupboards are slowly filling with other people’s pots and bowls, plates, jugs and serving spoons. Each time we have a get-together, folks bring a salad, a cake, a pitcher of ice tea ... and each time we clear up after our guests have left, there is always something extra to add to the cupboard.
Now, every time that this happens, I swear that I’ll drop by their house and return said dish or plate, and every time I say this, I really do intend to do it but I forget for a few days and then those days turn into weeks. Before you know it, a few months have gone by, and when I look at the dish in our cupboard, I begin to feel guilty about not returning it but I feel embarrassed about the length of time that we’ve had it. And so, the dish stays put. It’s Catch-22. The dish should be returned but the time lapsed between party and present make doing just that impossible.
And so, as I listened to the officer lauding the success of the gun amnesty, it dawned on me that what I need to do is have a potluck dish amnesty. I’ll invite everyone I know and they can invite their friends, too. Everyone can come, bring their own collection of ‘other people’s pots and plates, turn them in at the amnesty and pick up the jugs, dishes and salad forks that belong to them. Dan, come round and get your serving platter; Keesha, we have your olive bowl; James and Lesley, whom I only met once, come get your lovely yellow bowl and carved elephant handled salad spoons; Eleanor, hmm, we have a chopping board, plates, bowl, even a mattress, borrowed far too long ago to mention. Then, there is a glass pitcher, a vinaigrette jug and a crock pot, yes a fully operational crock pot, all of which I have no idea where they came from but my amnesty could sort all of this out I’m sure.
So, yes, a potluck dish amnesty, the perfect solution to my guilty crockery woes. I’m gonna’ do it. And, hey, if you’re all coming to the amnesty, let’s make a party of it. I’ll provide the time, the place and a big ol’ bonfire. You guys bring something to drink, and for food ... we’ll do potluck.
WILL JONES - is The Outsider