Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: MONDAY, January 24, 1994 TAG: 9401250279
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: A9 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Monty S. Letich
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
``You don't bother to say `hello' anymore?'' I responded. It was, after all, after 10 p.m. and I was trying to watch ``Northern Exposure.''
``Have you got any yeast or not?'' she snapped. ``I've been to every Kroger in the greater Roanoke area and everyone's out of yeast.''
``Did you try the Winn-Dixies?'' I asked her. ``How about Food Lion?''
``Listen,'' she started, a thin edge of anger ready to break through her voice. ``This is an emergency.''
``A bread emergency,'' she replied. I guess she could tell I was listening now. She was regaining control of her voice. ``I need to make bread and there's no yeast left in all the Roanoke Valley.''
I wasn't quite sure to which of those oddities I should reply first. Finally I said, ``Why do you need to make bread? It's after 10 p.m. It's 5 degrees below zero and there's ice on every sidewalk in 16 counties.''
``That's it!'' she cried. ``You do understand!''
``I do?''
``About the biological necessity of bread. The drive to forage. The need to carbohydrate-load when the temperature drops below freezing!''
``The foraging you mention,'' I said, ``that would be a reference to looking for yeast?''
``That's why there's none to be found,'' she said. ``Everyone's foraging. Particularly everyone of Northern European extraction. They're preparing. Storing up fat for the winter.''
``It's a little bit late to be preparing, isn't' it? I mean, the last week of January and all.''
``Do you know anyone - and I mean anyone - who hasn't gained at least 5 pounds in the past month?'' she shot back. She was beginning to sound triumphant. ``It's a biological necessity. Like sex. Like the sucking reflex born in infants. Fight or flight, you know?''
``Yeast,'' I asked her, ``is like sex?''
``Yes,'' she said. ``Yes! So, have you got any?''
I paused before answering. This seemed to me a tricky question, especially after 10 p.m., especially watching ``Northern Exposure.'' You know how that show is. ``I think I have some yeast,'' I finally said carefully. ``But I don't know how old it is.''
``Great!'' she crowed. ``Age doesn't matter! I'll be right over.''
And, sure enough, she was. Weather updates kept interrupting Joel and Maggie, but in minutes my friend was at the door. Bundled up as if for a guest shot on the show.
``I won't stay,'' she assured me. ``Just grab my yeast and run.''
I handed her the red and yellow packet.
My friend took it as if it were manna. She kissed it! She turned to scurry away. But then she turned back suddenly.
``Oh, I almost forgot,'' she said, great clouds of breath obscuring her face. ``I need some flour, too. I could go over to Joan's and get it, but since I'm already here ... ''
\ Monty S. Leitch is a Roanoke Times & World-News columnist.
by CNB