July 2009 Archives

There is a voice in my head that nags at me after I've made out-of-the-ordinary social plans. It begs me to just stay at home and flop on the couch.

Family reunions, professional gatherings, theater shows, and visits with old friends are just a few examples of these occasional events that add to the quality of my life and are very important to me, but when the time comes to get in car, I often begin to feel lazy and introverted.

Why is that?

So far, I've successfully ignored that "just stay at home" voice by remembering the other voice in my head that screamed about how family is an such valuable part of life, networking builds relationships with clients that can further my career, live shows are richer than those viewed from my couch, and visiting friends is the only real way to stay connected.

Almost immediately upon arrival to the event, I snap to my senses and become internally embarrassed by my near laziness.

I suppose a social life requires a certain commitment, and that commitment is hardest to keep when I must move out of my daily comfort zone.

Does this happen to you?

I recently listened to a serious debate between friends over who served the best pizza.  

It's funny how we harbor such strong feelings over this combination of tomato sauce, cheese and flour. I never hear animated discussions over spaghetti even though we Americans eat plenty of that.

Then it occurred to me that there will never be a consensus. This is partly because our deep-rooted, individual pizza preferences are often tied to subconscious, positive memories.

I remember the pizza from The Berlinsville Hotel. I think there was just one Italian family near the tiny town of Berlinsville, and they didn't own or cook at the Hotel. Nor did the place have a brick oven or fancy chef. It was simply where Mom and Dad would go on the rare occasions that we strayed from our culinary routine.  

Occasionally I would wake to find an empty box in the house, evidence that my parents treated themselves after we kids went to bed. It's entirely possible that this pizza was not good enough to warrant my distressed reaction to the discovery, but frankly, to me this basic barroom pizza was the best, and I've never found an adequate replica.

Where do you stand in this debate?  Can you still get your favorite pizza?