“In order for there to be a ritual, there must be a set of beliefs and values that members of a group accept and want to have reinforced,” according to “Living Folklore,” of Chapter Four, “Rituals.”
When I look back at my life, beliefs and values always were surrounded by family, through Christmas, Birthdays, and special events that became their own rituals. But, there is one ritual that comes to my mind which is still “repeated,” and “more of a purpose,” that no one could ever image would.
My grandmother (or Grammy as we called her), had a husband that loved “Beans and Cornbread,” and she would make it for him every chance she got when he was alive. It became a popular dish over time that continued with her four sons, wives and grandkids and is still served at special times when we all get together. But, there was something unusual about these dinners that made it different.
My parents moved around a lot when I was a kid, but family was still very important to them both. When we did go visit everyone usually once a month, “Beans and Cornbread,” was served more times than I can remember.
Grammy would always get a huge pot out and start the beans a day before adding ham and/or bacon to give it a little flavor to the pot. Cornbread would be made in muffins pans, and smell heavenly cooking in the oven. The table would be set and later on have food spread evenly all over it. Of course, the men would want to drink beer with the meal, while some of us who didn’t like beans would just make sandwiches. But there was always plenty to eat.
When the meal was served it looked as though a food fest was around and you didn’t dare bother anyone who might be eating. But, jokes and laughter would come from this kitchen and everyone always enjoyed their meal.
After dinner the men would go into the front room set up a card table and get ready to play a game of euchre, while the women and the grandkids would help clean up after the meal.
When the dishes were done and everything was back to normal, the women would stay in the kitchen and gossip, while encouraging the grandkids to stay close to them in the kitchen. I thought it was strange the men would be in one room and the rest of us in another room until an hour later, after the meal.
You would hear the men cutting ever so loudly, but just at certain times. For about 10-15 minutes you could drop a pin and hear it. Then these strange noises would begin surfacing from the movement of their chairs or sometimes catching one of them hiking up their leg. Not long afterwards, discussions from them arose to saying things like, “Did you wipe after that?” “Wow did that come out of you? Or “That was a pretty good one, do it again.”
Then a mysterious and strange green fog would make its way to where the women and kids were at, smelling as though a dead skunck had come in the front doors and died in front of the men. The odor grew and became so intense you felt a little quiens to your stomach.
The men continued on with their boyish game and before the night was over had the entire house smelling of Beans, Cornbread and of those extstrneral pressures that made it way out to everyone including the poor chairs the men sat on. And though the women might complain they would be invisible to the laughter and smells these four guys would create.
Overtime, the women still would get frustrated by the guys, with their smells or sometimes getting out of hand pranks. And you didn’t dare walk in on them for fear you never come back alive. But as the grandkids grew they wanted to get into the act more and began creating their own sound effects with their hands up by their cheeks, under the armpits or even with their hand between their legs to see if they could be just as loud as their own dads. Occasionally, the moms couldn’t help but laugh at what their kids would do and how creative they could be. Even Grammy from time to time put her comments in expressing “Wow that pretty good,” or””Your just as loud as they are.” It would bring laughter to the conversation encouraging all of us to want to do more.
As the years passed some things did change. But the “Northern Beans and Cornbread Dinners,” were still just as strong as before as well as the stories and the smells that came afterwards.
This ritual may seem gross even disturbing to some. But it was a way these four guys could be boys for even if it was just for a couple hours while teaching the grandkids it was okay to be who we want to be and not take life so serious, just be silly sometimes.
Thanks to my grandparents who began a simple meal of “Beans and Cornbread,” a silly ritual has made us all grow closer to where even now, we may not see one another as often as we would like but still carry the values and importance of family with us.
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1 comment:
Funny
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