Men and Their Grills
Finally, after two weekends of watching him grieve, I couldn’t take it anymore. I announced, “Come on, let’s go look at some gas grills.” Immediately, his face lit up. “Where should we go?” he asked in thunderous anticipation. “We should probably scout out as many stores as possible. We want to get the best grill at the best price.”
You know, until this point, I didn’t realize the bond which existed between this man and his gas grill. To me it’s an appliance; to him it’s a friend. And apparently, Edward isn’t alone in this assessment. We went to one of the big home stores, and we couldn’t see the gas grills, because a wall of men — about 40 feet thick– was surrounding them. We pushed ourselves forward to get a better view. And when we reached the front of the line, I heard my husband gasp. For there, standing in front of us, was the mother of all gas grills. I saw my husband’s face, and then I looked around. Every man wore the same look of amazement on his face as Edward did.
Yes, this grill had captured the attention of every male in that store. It had won their hearts. Frankly, I was confused. I never drool over kitchen appliances this way. I view them as necessary evils. I have no desire to become attached to them. And I never see men drool over these appliances either. How could a man have trouble operating the stove in a kitchen, but put that stove outside and stick a propane tank under it, and that same man turns into the Galloping Gourmet?
So, here we are paying homage to this grill. I’ll admit, it was impressive — or at least massive. It was composed of three pieces of metal which would completely encircle whoever was grilling. It was luminescent green in color. Four levels of racks sprung up and sparkled like chrome on a new car. The grill had more counter space than most kitchens; it had more square footage than most homes. It had a cutting board, two extra gas burners on the side, a rotisserie attachment and a spare propane tank. It also had a price tag of $949.
“Edward, I love you from the bottom of my heart and soul, but there is no way in this lifetime you are spending that kind of money on a barbecue!” I said calmly.
“But, it would really come in handy when we have guests,” he retorted.
“How many guests are you talking about? One? Two? The entire county?” I asked facetiously.
“You’re right,” he conceded. “We’ll find something appropriate.”
Now in agreement on what we wanted, we walked around looking at the other models. And there in the corner stood a nice, little, unpretentious grill. It stood there alone. No one crowded around it. My heart went out to it. It looked as if it needed a home and someone to care for it. None of the men in the store seemed to want it. It had no super duper grilling rack. It had no side burners. It was not painted luminescent green, and it had no rotisserie. But what it did have was a price tag of 150 bucks. Now, I was in love.
“This one?” my husband asked incredulously. “But look at the difference. This has nothing — not even a side burner to cook vegetables.”
“Well, pardon me,” I apologized. “Let’s spend an extra $500 so you can stir beans at the same time you’re cooking hot dogs. Be realistic. How would you put that other monstrosity together?”
It was then I saw the light bulb click on over his head. The assembly — that was the key. He forgot about the assembly. Edward hates putting gas grills together.
“Okay, you’re right,” he admitted quickly. “A smaller grill will be better for us. But let’s not buy it right now. Maybe we should look around some more and see if there’s a better deal.”
I agreed for I know he’s hoping that somewhere in some store is his dream grill, already assembled and selling for no more than $300. I’ll let him dream on for a while. He deserves it because as we all know, a man and his gas grill is a relationship worth fighting for.
