Day 12: Buffalo Wings

Let’s talk about *buffalo wings. Conversation came up the other day from Geoff Millard, an Iraqi War veteran who had been
speaking out against the war. He was from Buffalo, New York and wanted to know why everybody called buffalo wings ‘buffalo wings’ while the folks from Buffalo call them ‘chicken wings’? Well, I didn’t know the wings were named after a city in
New York. I thought it was named after, well…buffaloes. Maybe an old native American delicacy.
A hunger strike is just like in the movies about starving POW’s sitting in a circle and reminiscing. Conversation goes straight to food and what they’re going to eat when they get out—or in our case, get off this strike. Yesterday I had a hankering for barbque potatoe chips. Usually it’s pizza or Mexican food. One fella that fasted for a week said he ate so much after getting off the fast that he made himself sick. Ate four meals in one day.
I have been cautioned about my lack of caution on how I end a hunger strike. Most authorities ( even Doc Gregory) say
start sloooooow on diluted juices for one week, then broth for a week, then… Well, you get the picture. My first hunger strike I ended with a pizza, the second ended with Mexican food, the third with Pizza, fourth with Mexican food, etc etc. My only rule of thumb is alternate Mexican food with pizza. I have no idea why my stomach doesn’t totally rebel but I believe it has to do with my philosophy about sickness. Just ask my kids. We were shrimpers, scraping a living, and health insurance was not in our vocabulary. So every time one of the kids got sick , I said, You’re not sick. “You’re ok.” And usually they were. Then too, there was all that poison ivy that wove a mat across the pasture and ditches and trees. Every time I got one little bubble of ivy trouble, I’d look at it and say, “Go away.” And usually it did.
I recently saw a documentary on Link TV about a tribe in Africa that never experienced sickness and when they were asked how
that was possible, the natives said they just said “No!” to sickness. That’s kinda my attitude about the pizzas and the Mexican food, I just tell my stomach, “No!”
*Buffalo’s chicken wings*
Deep fry a batch of chicken wings. Nothing added.
Just fry. Mix melted butter with Frank’s red hot sauce and add to fried chicken wings. Eat ’till you’re full.

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