“[E]verything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”—Viktor Frankl
[Previously spotlighted quotes]
The Pood StoryWhy do I call my recipes and food section “pood”? Well, it’s largely due to the neologistic tendencies of my prime conspirator, Don Lobo Tiggre ...
Way back before he and I merged households, we were separated by much of the U.S. Early in our friendship, we’d discovered a shared fondness for Rush’s music, and made an agreement to try to see a concert together someday.
When the Test for Echo tour was announced, I scoured the dates, searching for any possibility that would work for us to share a concert together. Few venues were close to him in Wyoming ... ones that were close to me were on weekdays. Finally, one date lit a candle of hope: a Saturday concert, in Rockford, Illinois. After a series of phone calls and email exchanges, The Rushian Adventure was a go: I’d get tickets for the show and make hotel reservations online; Lobo would fly into Indianapolis and I’d pick him up there; then we’d cruise up to Rockford to enjoy the show.
Well, like any complicated plan, it didn’t go off entirely as envisioned. However, we did get to Rockford in plenty of time for the concert. Walking around outside the concert hall, we decided we should eat some dinner before the show; but there were no fast-food places in sight. Choosing a random street, we set off in hopes of finding a good, quick bite to eat.
After only a few blocks, we came upon a corner joint that appeared to be a restaurant ... except its lovely, glowing neon sign looked more like “POOD” than “FOOD”. Lobo arched an eyebrow at me, and asked, “You willing to try some pood?” I nodded, and in we went.
The waitress was a rather typical harried hash-slinger; even so, she was a good sport about Lobo’s pun-laced, fast-paced, amusing banter. His query about the sign, however, brought her up short. She had never paid much attention to the sign, apparently, and it just didn’t sink in that the sign could be read as anything other than “food”. That simply added to our amusement. When our orders arrived, we discovered, amid much giggling, that we did indeed enjoy pood very much.
So, the term has stuck. Much to our delight, our children were amused by the neologism, and have picked it up as well.