Along the path to adulthood I knew I was making progress when I gave up certain habits. Like the day Pop Rocks and Fun Dip stopped being a part of my regular diet. Or the first winter I went without tossing snowballs at the school bus.
You know, signs along the path of life that make one feel like a grown-up.
Occasionally I wonder if I’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere because I can’t stop at a gas station without buying beef jerky.
There’s something about beef jerky that makes me feel like a kid again. I’ve got a number of excuses ready if the clerk ever asks, “Is that for you?”
But it was expensive. I’d save a few bucks by mowing lawns in the summer or shoveling walks in the winter that I’d have enough to buy the long skinny jerky sticks at George’s Market off 36th Street in Ogden.
When I started playing baseball I graduated to Jerky Stuff. It came in what looked like a tin of chewing tobacco but was filled with 97% fat free goodness. I’d place a pinch in my lip till the flavor was drained or I accidentally swallowed it. Usually the latter.
I can’t imagine the money I’ve spent on beef jerky over the years. Probably enough to buy a cow or two.