Those words don't go together
One of my early job requirements for Pad & Quill was to become familiar with Pinterest and like many of my technology adaptations, I began with a shudder, gave it a noble effort then abandoned it when I couldn’t recall my sign in information. Then a friend of mine announced her engagement and suddenly Pinterest was the only proper means of communication with the female side of the bridal party. So, I hunted down my sign in information and began once again perusing the form of social media that most certainly is the insurance asset should Martha Stewart find herself incarcerated again. Thanks to Pinterest, I am now convinced that baking soda and vinegar are the solution to every domestic dilemma from dust mites to indigestion.
Speaking of indigestion, Pinterest had me arranging my refrigerator in alphabetical order, with the helpful “m” admonition that any item rendered nondescript due to a colony of mold growth be discarded. Was Christmas really 4 months ago? By far my favorite letter to organize was “C” as in chocolate and cheese, the incontrovertible couple of comfort. After dispatching the indistinguishable, I discovered I had an amiable array of cheeses, including both artisan and everyday staples. Lacking an idea for dinner it seemed brilliant to melt them into a marvelous crock of mystery mac and cheese.
Since I am now leading a Pinterest life, it was only reasonable to complete the trifecta and post an Instagram of said dish to Facebook. In the process of compiling a pithy comment to accompany my post, I typed the word “artisanal” only to have one of those parallel universe-spelling encounters where you swear a word should be spelled one way but spell checker asininely insists you are wrong. My culinary sense wanted to convey the buttery goodness of hand crafted cheeses, but my aging eyes could only see “art is anal”. And as Mr. PQ pointed out in his “comment”, anal and dinner really shouldn’t be in the same sentence. The dietitian in me wanted to point out that there is only about 31 feet of separation between the two (7 inches of esophagus, about 6 for the stomach, 25 feet for the small intestine, and 5 feet for the large intestine- for you non physiology types) but the writer in my was stuck on anal art.
“Art is anal” seemed so crass when describing the cache of excellence the word evokes. But that got me thinking, good art, art that can be appreciated for it’s beauty, creativity and inspiration probably is anal at some level. It’s rare to achieve wonder without tedious attention to detail and craftsmanship. We see this in every Traveler iPhone 5 case that is stitched with parachute thread, and every Midtown wallet that is meticulously cut from full grain leather. We want our craftsmen to be ‘anal’ so that we can assure you, our customer, are receiving the pride of what we have to offer.
And, in case you were wondering, the mystery mac was delicious!