The scene plays out like this: barbecue served a la carte and by the pound. Worthy appetites only need apply. Pictured here is the aftermath of pulled pork, roasted ham, beef brisket, short ribs, handmade sausage, baked beans, cole slaw, German potato salad, rolls, and equal parts beer and sauces. This was Custer's last stand. This was the Gettysburg Address of dining. This was the last supper Jesus wishes he had. While my mind may be going soft from the mandatory flu shot I received today, exacerbated by the near freezing temperatures and unrelenting rain of October in New York, I will fondly remember this meal as an apt tribute to my southern roots. Swayed by vaccine I am tempted to vote Republican, justify the war in Iraq, and engage in some good ol' fashioned nation building. And even though the CIA may be moments away from activating me into assassinating some foreign dignitary at least the taste of slow-cooked pork is still sweet on my lips. Regardless of the fact that my existence will circumstantially be denied by the country I call home, I will die a happy man.
