Baird, Frances

English

Digital Commons @ Butler University

MANUSCRIPTS 29shanty to get her shoes and put them on her tiny feet. I rememberthat, as I came out of the shanty, her face was all aglow and hereyes still sparkled in the moonlight.'vVe started to her house, her hand so warm in mine. She laughedand talked as we trod through the icy snow. The night was so still.When we reached her house and were standing at her door, her eyeslooked into mine and mine into hers. I said, ''I'll call you," andthen we said good-by. I don't know what else happened that winternight-I just woke up a few hours ago.As I lie in this hospital and look out upon another beautifulwinter eve, such as it was only two nights ago, I realize that I shallnever have the chance to call and tell her how I feel about her.Mom and Dad and Doc are afraid to tell me that I have only a fewhours to live, but-I know.Reaction of the Distaff Side toMr. Wylie's Essay("Science Has Spoiled My Supper")Frances BairdMR. WYLIE, I admire your s~ientific interest, education andbackground. You are an integral part of that world ofscience and knowledge that has made possible those con-troversial modern foods and their eye-appeal packing. But let's notrationalize, Mr. Wylie: it was not science that spoiled your supper.Science was only the tool in the hands of the real culprit, woman.As one gourmet to another, your reflections on the foods fromthe era of our (we are contemporaries) "Momism" reactivated tastebuds that had long lain dormant. The mention of jam, particularly,called to my mind the incomparable goodness of real apple butter.Did you, Mr. Wylie, ever have real apple butter? The kind that isshort on, beautiful, smooth texture and exciting color, but oh, so ,/filled with a wealth of the flavor of freshly picked apples and un-refined spices? The kind that makes it a sacrilege to call the cannedstuf f on the super-market shelves by the same name? You did?But did you ever have to rise at dawn, gather apples-bushel baskets '~--full of them-sort them, wash them, peel them, quarter them and,added insult, wash them again? Did you ever have to carry armloads of wood to keep the fire at the correct temperature for constantsimmering? (Of course, Mr.'vVylie, I don't doubt that you realizethat food cooked on a good, old-fashioned wood stove has animmeasurably superior flavor to that cooked with gas or electricity.)And do you remember those delicious little noises made by thosemillions of tiny bubbles breaking the surface as that wonderfulconcoction, in those enormous kettles, slowly and arornatically becameapple butter, perfect apple butter, the kind you haven't tasted since?30 MANUSCRIPTSLet me remind you, Mr. Wylie, while you drool, that this wasan ali-day job, with time taken out only for the small, incidentaltask of preparing the regular three meals expected, as usual, by theman of the house. The fact that the man of the house was most oftena "Life with Father" kind of man merely, I suppose, offered anextra touch of excitement and a greater challenge to the womanin the kitchen.That woman, Mr. Wylie, is your culprit. The same one whoseculinary skills you so ardently extol eventually came to realize thatthe game wasn't worth the candle. She rebelled. In rebellion shefound her strength lay in alliance with science which, as you so ablypointed out, is applied honesty in search of truth. Now the tru!his that we can eat with our eyes. Witness, as an example, the stillgreat number of over-weight men and the fast diminishing number ofover-weight women. The former still relish food, modern or not,and the latter no longer find it necessary to taste while cooking toassure the indomitable male a palatable meal.In short, Mr. Wylie, woman has asserted her right to live alittle too, and her first step toward that goal had to be out of thekitchen. I'm afraid your call to insurrection is a bit late, thankHeaven.Another LifeJudie PennyIFI WERE a: Hindu and still believed in reincarnation, I would notbe too concerned about terminating this life and beginning anewin a different form. I am not convinced that the life of a hOl1Wsapiens is the best. In reality we are weak creatures, ill prepared forexistence-we are susceptible to disease (the strongest are no longerthe ones that survive), have no natural protection from the elements,such as fur or feathers, cannot sleep through cold or adverse months.Our highly developed mind with the ability to reason abstractlysupposedly has made up for our frailness, but is this true? Is not amind often a burden? How many people have committed suicide orhave gone insane because they could not bear the weight of theirthoughts? Also the origin of much sickness is in the mind. Becausewe a~e gregarious and thinking animals, we have set up certainbehavior patterns to be followed to the letter (Emily Post incorpor-ated) ; that these "rules of order" may be unnatural seems to be ofno concern. One soon realizes that man is the least free of the warm-blooded creatures here on Earth. If I had my life to live over, Iwould be born something wild and free, without care or concern.Because I'm partial, I might choose to be a crow in my next life,although th~ form of a snake, racoon,. mouse, cat, or deer would doas well. With luck, I would be born 111 a tall oak, safe from otherbirds of prey, small boys, and hunters. From the time I pecked my

Reaction of the Distaff Side to Mr. Wylie\u27s Essay

https://digitalcommons.butler.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=2533&amp;context=manuscripts

Reaction of the Distaff Side to Mr. Wylie\u27s Essay

Abstract

Similar works

Full text

Available Versions

Digital Commons @ Butler University