Fuel for Dagwood’s wood
Some thoughts on sandwiches and hot comic-strip nookie.Once again, us Earthlings living in this part of the globe have rumbled into that segment of our annual journey around the sun called summer. It’s the time of year when our afternoon skies often look exactly like the opening segment of The Simpsons and when we get the green light to dress with a sort of dogged skimpiness that combines nicely with our Western sense of crass tastelessness.
One of the truly fine pleasures of summer is the avocado, tomato and onion sandwich. I base much of my caloric intake in June, July and August on this beauty, which, when done well, can approach Dagwoodian abomination, and I’m fantasizing here about lettuce, mayo, mustard, a couple of strips of bacon, maybe some cheese … but wait.
Speaking of Dagwood, does anybody around here remember that oblivious and bolivious sandwich-making mofo Dagwood Bumstead? Or am I revealing solid graybeard credentials yet again? And who was taking care of his fine, curvy über-babe of a wife, Blondie, if Mr. D was always downstairs stuffing his pie-eyed face with those perilously stacked quadra-deckers?
Now that I think of it, it actually must have been Dagwood himself who was taking care of bidness on the home front, and I base that assumption on two observations. First, Blondie seemed to have an extremely pleasant disposition at all times, which tells me she was perfectly willing to put up with a fair amount of thoughtless b.s. from her eternal nincompoop of a hubby because she knew that in the middle of the night, chances were good that goofy bastard was gonna get after the brillo with some serious gusto. No wonder she kept that waist of hers at 18 inches for 48 years! (Note to feminists: You’re always picking on Barbie, but Blondie makes Barbie look like Tony Soprano.)
The other reason I suspect Dagwood of being a surprisingly major sex machine is … well, why else would he be sneaking down to the fridge in the middle of the night to knock off all those bodacious sandwiches? It had to be because Blondie is, as most American men have suspected for many years, an absolute hellcat in the sack, and after she brings it on hot and nasty and relieves Dagwood of a whole bunch of his juju (no wonder the poor slob is permanently pie-eyed), old Dag has to go downstairs and put the super glom on one of those legendary sandwiches just to be able to crawl out of bed in the morning.
So, where was I? Ah yes, the avocado, tomato and onion sandwich. It’s a good one, if you’re unfamiliar with it, a guilt-free creation that can be sinfully tasty, totally satisfying and yet still get a total thumbs-up from all doctors and nutritionists. A well-made ATO, with a few tortilla chips and an extremely cold beer … friend, that is very large, yet extremely affordable summertime livin’.