What I Smell?

Though I can't remember what prompted it, I well remember a time in his teenage years when my oldest son Matt decided he was not going to eat any more pork ... no bacon, no chops, no roasts, no sausage, no ribs. I also remember being especially irritated with my suddenly meat-choosy son during his porkless phase. You see, back then, pork was one of the less expensive meat choices, and I had three seemingly always ravenous teenagers to feed. I don't recall how long Matt stuck to his "No swine!" mantra, but I'm betting that the amazing aroma of bacon sizzling in a frying pan had a lot to do with the eventual reversal of his previous pork-free stance.

I find it quite comical that my eldest son now has two daughters who love, love, love sausage and bacon ... seriously, those little gals can throw back some pork like you wouldn't believe. I'm relatively sure if it was up to the two of them, they would eat sausage and bacon for every single meal and probably for snack time as well. Though pretty much everything Coraline says is absolutely adorable, there's one exchange concerning sausage that her dad will probably never let her forget ... you know, one of those events from her childhood that will be mentioned at every family get-together for the rest of her life. Matt and Becca were in the kitchen cooking when Coraline suddenly came running in and shouted, "What I smell? Sausage?"

It's more than safe to assume that I've laughed a ton over my sweet little blonde-haired, blue-eyed granddaughter's "What I smell? Sausage?" question, but it's also more than safe to assume that laughing is the last thing on my mind when I'm told by other people that I need to "wake up and smell the coffee." Me being me, I did a bit of research on the meaning and origin of that phrase ... "wake up and smell the coffee" ... and discovered some interesting things. The meaning didn't surprise me ... "to face up to reality, especially in a difficult or unpleasant situation" ... but the person who is generally credited with it becoming a popularly accepted phrase in our society certainly did ... newspaper advice columnist Ann Landers (which was actually a pen name for two different women who penned the column over the years). The phrase became somewhat of a trademark for the beloved and well-respected Ann Landers, eventually becoming the title of a book containing some of her most famous advice-filled and wisdom-loaded columns. I had absolutely no idea that's where "wake up and smell the coffee" earned its wings, but it makes perfect sense to me now.

In my recent post "May I Please Be Excused?", I wrote about my tendency to be too loyal at times ... to be too trusting on occasion ... to believe in people to a fault more often than perhaps I should. I closed that post with these words, "I want to keep believing in people ... I want to keep trusting people ... I want to be loyal and committed and honest and true," and I stand firmly behind those words. What I didn't say in that post, however, was that I've been told to "wake up and smell the coffee" a lot lately ... a whole lot. And I'm pretty sure I'm not the only person out there who doesn't much like being told that I'm not seeing (or smelling, as the case may be) certain situations or circumstances or people for what or who they really are rather than what my too trusting, too loyal, too much believing in others to a fault nature wants to see (or smell, as the case may be). And way more than I don't like being told to "wake up and smell the coffee," I hate that those words force me to entertain the possibility that I need to do just that.

I went to a movie with a couple of friends last night ... it's been a really long time since I've been to a movie with friends, by the way, and I realized last night how very much I miss doing things like that. Not only did this particular film intrigue me enough to get me to spend 10 bucks on a ticket, it intrigued me enough to get me to ignore the bad reviews it's received. I'm glad I went for several reasons, not the least of which is that it was a great movie. It's the story of two old guys who set out to walk the Appalachian Trail from Georgia to Maine, and the film is both funny and poignant in its portrayal of their journey. This may sound crazy, but as I watched the story unfold on the big screen before me, I had a "wake up and smell the coffee" moment of my very own.

See, here's the thing ... when the main character's wife put her foot down and said he couldn't hike the Trail alone, he called a bunch of his "friends" with the hope that one of them would agree to go with him ... but not one of them did. Nope, not one of his rich and successful so-called friends would accompany him on his journey ... not one. Instead, it was a forgotten, ill-mannered, foul-mouthed, out of shape friend from his past who volunteered to walk with him. Volunteered is the key word there, by the way ... his less than desirable former friend wasn't among the ones asked to go along on the adventure; in fact, he wasn't even considered for inclusion in the invitations. Yep ... it was his long ago discarded friend who volunteered to walk the trail with him even though he knew he wasn't on the original invite list.

There's a ton of irony there you know ... a ton of "wake up and smell the coffee" irony for sure. The friend who didn't possess great wealth ... the friend who had lived the most difficult life ... the friend who had nothing but himself to give ... he was the only friend who volunteered to journey with his old pal. He was the friend who had every right to be angry and bitter over a friendship tossed aside, and yet he was the friend who made the call ... he was the one who braved ridicule and rejection ... he was the one who stepped up and made the effort ... he was the one who cared enough to go.

I'll leave you to mull that over for a while, friends, but be attentive as you ponder ... be watchful as you contemplate ... be open as you muse ... be mindful as you question. Be all of those things and more as you consider ... for you might just have a "wake up and smell the coffee" moment, too.

"What I smell? Sausage?"