Best Supporting Actor
Puss (left) and Hammer (right) celebrating the life and times of a great supporting actor, Christopher Plummer. He was a leader in his supporting roles. Just like the snow supported the hounds in this picture.
In my twenties, there was a certain friend we had who lived his life like he was the main character in a high school movie and we could all see it. Everything was so dramatic with this guy, and we quietly chuckled at his histrionics knowing we were wiser to the fact that none of us were special, that we were merely dust in the winds of time. But that was then and this is now, and now, well now, now I understand that we aren’t just the star of our own movies, but we’re also the director, the editor and the audience. Youth is wasted on the young, just as kraut is wasted on people who put ketchup on their hotdogs.
Ye ol’ Puss you won’t be shocked to find out, has always hated birthday parties. Not other people’s necessarily although those generally suck harder than an Amish girl on Rumspringa – Puss everlasting over here, I always hated my own parties, I just couldn’t stand the attention – I was simply convinced I wasn’t worth it. And this lasted a good long while, in fact right up to the point where no one truly gave a shit about me anymore, which coincided perfectly with the birth of my first child. It was then that I realized my marquee position as the lead role in my life just got second billing to my little kraut pup. And immediately I wanted it back. I still do.
I sometimes describe having children with a Microsoft Excel analogy: you have this huge data set with thousands of rows, each row descending in importance but all of them necessary. Your kids are those top few rows, frozen panes, locked – as you scroll down to your health, your relationship with your high school friends, and further to your oil change, they’re always there in the dominant always-visible top position. Those people who took ownership of their leading role positions in their younger years and lived like corny main characters, I suspect they handle this transition just fine – it’s their kids turn now, they lived it up, they soaked up admiration and attention, signed autographs, gave dinner-table junkets on their Spring Break trip to Cancun. But Mr. Sauerpuss here, I was so convinced that I was an unworthy piece of shit, I denied myself the pleasure (NO, the right!) to bask in the limelight. And now I sit in sauer juices watching my kin shine, playing supporting actor to a couple of drooling, mumbling albeit charming toddlers. Take it from me my krautciphles, when life gives you a shot, take it. As for me, at least when life sucks, it’s long.
- The ‘Puss
“And the Golden Bun goes to…” Please, as if there would ever be a doubt. Sauerkraut is as skilled at acting as it is at being flavorful. It always plays its role. Put it on a hot dog and the sum is greater than the parts. Add a bit to a pastrami sandwich and you have yourself a Reuben that would make Pee-Wee jealous. Or simply add a 2 to 3-inch-thick layer under your favorite tubular meats and you have yourself a proper kraut-fest. The thing about kraut is that, outside of this website, it is not the star.
Who wants to be the star? Certainly not sauerkraut. It’s too rugged. It has too much gumption. It won’t sit in its trailer (can) and cry that the Impossible Hot Dogs are shit. Nope. It will get out there and carry that fucking fake dog all the way through my digestive tract. Supporting actors are the pillars of a good movie, a good meal, and a good life. Make sure to recognize the supporting actors in your life. Here is a small sampling of my list:
· William Peels whiskey – Thanks for being just as strong as nicer whiskey, but at a price that I just can’t quit.
· Soft toilet paper – When I’m raw and chapped, you are still there for me. Sometimes I find myself hugging you after a good session. Then I need to shower.
· Holey socks and underwear – I know I should have thrown you out last time, but I can’t quit you because you don’t quit me. The last pairs I reach for, but you are always there to remind me it’s time to ask my mom to come do my laundry.
· Coffee makers – You’re not the coffee, but you make the coffee. You’re a coffee maker.
- Krauthammer
