Tuesday, November 5, 2013

I Poked the Bear One Too Many Times

Many years ago, like a decade or more, the Island King's best friend Saul and his wife were at our house for dinner.


The Island King was blackening fish, which always smokes up the house, and as he turned away from the stove, Saul walked in and proclaimed the fish to be done.


He flipped them onto plates and handed them to his wife and I.


The fish was delicious and to poke at the Island King we started talking about how Saul makes the best blackened fish ever.


The Island King got his knickers in a bunch because he says he's the one who cooked the fish and Saul got all of the credit. Because he considers himself the best chef ever that really bothered him and ever since then, when I want to poke the bear, I'll say something about the best blackened fish I've ever eaten – which always makes steam come out of his ears.


So here we are, many moons later and I've been having trouble with our camp coffee pot. I have a small one cup pot with the clear bubble on the top and because I can see the coffee as it perks I know when it's ready. But it's one cup at a time which is a problem in the woods on a cold morning so the Island King finds a big pot at a yard sale and declares it the new coffee pot.


A coffee pot that consistently makes the worse coffee I've ever had. I keep complaining and wanting to go get a full sized pot just like the old one and he keeps telling me that we don't need no stinkin' bubble on the top to make good camp coffee.


This past weekend he was determined to prove that he could make good coffee with this pot. He stood there with his watch timing things, kept his ear close to the pot so he could hear the perking and when at some magical point declared it to be done.


He poured some into my cup and seemed surprised when it was the color of tea. I rolled my eyes, he poured the coffee back into the pot and cooked it some more.


When it was finally done it was possibly the worst cup of coffee I've EVER had.


He didn't like hearing that so he made more.


The second pot was as bad as the first. So was the third.


This was Friday afternoon so he threw his hands up and declared that he'd figured out what the problem was and that Saturday morning's coffee would be better.


I didn't believe him – which is good because Saturday morning rolled around and with it came a fourth cup of really bad coffee.


Saul got to camp a little later and when I said something about the bad coffee he got his coffee pot – which is the kind with the bubble on top – and made me a decent cup of coffee.


I couldn't resist poking the bear so I looked at the Island King and said “This is the best cup of coffee I've ever had.”
The Island King rolled his eyes but didn't say anything.


The next morning came and Saul made coffee again and again I poked the bear by talking about how delicious the coffee was.


A few hours later he tells me that he wants to make a video but won't tell me what he wants to video.


“Just take the camera, stand over there and tell me when you're rolling” he says.


So I did – and this is what happened.



I've poked this bear many times but I'm starting to rethink that now.



Well, at least I won't poke him about his cooking skills.

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