Please don't say it...

Not much happening here in Grand Forks. Not horribly late nights, only one song to cue which we did last night. Show is running almost like clock work. Perhaps a clock missing it's second hand, but a clock none the less.

Benny, who's working on the programming with me, went to dinner early today, so I asked him what was on tap.
"A weird Asian beef thing, which didn't look good, so I had the fish, because Josh recommended it."

"Ugh, I replied, I don't eat fish," There was dead silence while Benny gave me the deer in the headlights look,

"Please don't say it..."

Then, he said it...

"For a guy born and raised on an island, how can you not like fish?"
Let me say it now, pass this blog on to everyone you know... I do not eat fish. Most any seafood for that matter. I can eat tuna from a can (if doused in something like mustard or mayo), I can have abalone soup from Kin Wah in Kaneohe, but salmon, Chilean sea bass, shrimp, lobster, crab, shark, anything in salt water swimming around. No thank you.

I think I pin pointed the two things that put me over the edge, because I remember as a child eating fried fish my mom made.

The first episode happened in elementary school, in second grade. We had just moved from our house on Makalani to Uhilehua. I had attended kindergarten and first grade at Puohala elementary, and changed districts and now had to attended Kapunahala elementary school. One day, for lunch they had fish sandwiches, which I had never had before. So, of course, I stood in the cafeteria line, got my sectioned of tray and the nice lady put a fish sandwich, green beans, a roll, and some Jello squares on my tray. I sat down at the long lunch table with the rest of my class, ate some beans, bit the roll and washed it all back with a big swig of milk. I grabbed the fish sandwich and took a huge bite.

Next thing I know, the plate is covered with half chewed beans, a bite of roll and a big swig of milk, along with a
huge bite of fish sandwich. A life altering moment in 2nd grade, not to mention the sandwich didn't taste anything like my mom's fried fish.

The second life altering moment happened years later. I was on the swim team at the time, and we practiced every night from 5 until 7 PM. My mother worked nights at the time, so she'd make dinner and go to bed while we were swimming and my dad would pick us up. Dinner was often warm on the stove when we got home, and we'd serve ourselves. My mother had a favorite pot that she would often make stew or chili in. This night, when we walked in from swim practice, there was the pot warming on the stove. My mouth watered in anticipation of the wonderful smells of beef stew or the tickling spices of my moms chili. I rushed over and whipped open the lid and stuck my nose in.

If you've ever seen "Raiders of the Lost Ark", one of the final scenes where the evil French archeologist, Nazi interrogator and General melt and/or explode when looking into the now opened Ark of the Covenant. Well, that's what happened to me. For the stew and chili pot did not have the wonderful of beef stew or tickling chili, it was full of warm briny squid.

I was choking on the smell, and probably for the first time in my life, happy to go to bed without dinner.

Nope, seafood and I haven't gotten along for many years. They say that your taste buds change every 5 years or so. And I have come around to spinach recently. So maybe, something will change. I've tried things every few years to see if its changed, crab cakes, seared ahi. But so far, nope.

I'd rather snorkel with the fishes and enjoy their beauty and fluidity.