Setting Records with Manning

I had a dream. It was a sports dream, which is unusual for me because I’m not exactly the world’s most athletic guy. I don’t watch football and I don’t ski downhill. In fact, I’m more likely to make great chicken wings for people who watch football and more likely to fall downhill.

But last night, in my dream, my wife and I heard that Peyton Manning and Dallas Clark were trying to break a record for the most receiving yards on a ski slope. It was a pretty ingenious set up. Dallas was on skis. Peyton was at the top of the ski hill; this is Indiana so it wasn’t really a mountain. Peyton would yell Omaha and Hike! and fall back while Dallas would shoot off in a downhiller’s tuck. Peyton would cock that shotgun arm and throw the ball. As Dallas approached the bottom of the slope, he would reach up with grace and ease and snatch the ball out of the air, pulling it into the numbers every time.

Because it is a dream, my wife and I decided to go to the slope and see if we could help. My reasoning was that I could be sliding down the hill and receive a ball or two while Dallas took the ski lift back for another run. We could double the yardage thrown (and set the record as a team).

When we arrived at the top of the slope, Al Michaels and Cris Collinsworth were sorting through a box of my old bank statements. While everything else about the dream felt real, that part didn’t make any sense and the illusion began to fade. Al and Cris said that Peyton had just thrown a whopper of a pass to Dallas and in his enthusiasm, had run downhill to celebrate with his receiver. Not to worry, they would be right back.

I agreed to wait. My skis were strapped on and I was ready to get into the game. My wife, while nervous for me, was supportive and encouraging. As we waited I practiced my snow plowing, because it’s been 40-years since I strapped wooden boards to my feet and voluntarily threw myself headlong down a mountain.

But minutes turned into hours and despite Al and Cris’s reassurance, I realized that Peyton and Dallas had gone into the ski lodge. They’d set their record and left the slopes, without me.

From there, my dream shifted to a school and/or diner / and or Welcome Back Kotter episode and the entire storyline fell apart.

As a general rule, I don’t interpret dreams but I’d like to give this one a try. We all know that dreams reveal our subconscious desires. It’s obvious that my subconscious somehow connected to Peyton’s subconscious, subconsciously. What I learned in that dream and from my subconscious connection to Peyton Manning is that he is trying for a comeback, and my subconscious knows this. He’s calling out for help. I think I’ll email him today and ask how I might be able to ease his pain.

I have no idea why Dallas was in my dream. He’s a nice guy and all but just like a yellowshirt character on Star Trek, he is just an extra in my movie of the mind. Al and Cris were simply obnoxious.

I feel better unpacking that little drama; now here is to helping set the record!

A Portrait of a Dog

FB_IMG_1462584344065
Photo Credit: Emily Austin 2016

For those of you who follow this blog, you know that Sidney has been both a joy and a challenge.  Entering our lives in the summer of 2009, she was a rescue from a sad daily existence that consisted of a 14 hour day in a crate, a short break in the evening before it was time to return to the crate for another night.  When she joined our family, she needed socialization, love, constant attention, and a good long walk.

Six years later, she has become an ideal companion. Age has helped, as anyone who has ever raised a Labrador knows, but she has also learned that she can receive a pat on the head without the need to lick the hand that pets her (as well as the arm, leg, ankle, face, and neck). She’s discovered that we expect her to follow the rules and that we will give her a little grace when she ignores us.

She’s absolutely fallen in love with my daughter and joins her every evening in her room, laying quietly on her pillow while Emily puts around.  There is nothing she likes more than to sit at my feet when I work from home and is happy to join me in the garage when I’m working on a project of any kind. She simply wants to be near those she loves…and those who love her.

The transformation wasn’t quick and it wasn’t easy.  Going from a manic hound to man’s best friend didn’t occur overnight.  It was a slow, sometimes painful process, and while she is much better today than she was six years ago, the growth and change is a process that continues with each passing day. And honestly, we’re quite proud of her.

Sidney isn’t alone in her journey of growth and change.  The same can be said for each one of us. We all have our own manic moments. We all struggle with those bad habits and personal issues. We all have inner demons created through early trauma, pain and perceived neglect. Often, these inner miseries take on a life of their own, and while we know we could be living our best, we sometimes act our worst. You know it is true, even if you pretend no one else sees it.

But, as Sidney’s life reveals, there is hope. Progress is possible. Revitalization can be a reality. Transformation is no longer unthinkable. Yes, change is a challenge but not an impossibility. It might take time. It might require constant vigilance. It might demand extra effort. But it is doable. It is a worthwhile goal.

Get out of the crate of your past. Let someone love you and love them deeply in return.  It just might change your life for the better.

Happy Anniversary

IOLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA‘ve been writing a blog for nearly ten years.  October 2004 was the first post of Austin’s Acre.  Three years ago today I switched from Blogger to Word Press and in that short amount of time I’ve received over 28,000 hits on my site.  Sure, some of the traffic is nothing more than well-developed spam. Other visitors were nothing more lost web browsers looking for the Scottish cartoon character from Bugs Bunny.  But most were people who were interested in the short stories and little insights that I write. 

Over the past three years I’ve written humorous observations and posted beautiful photography.  I’ve commented on society, reviewed books, movies, and restaurants.  I’ve even documented some travel from time to time.  I’ve laughed at myself and others and along the way I’ve looked for the good in most and attempted to reflect God’s love to all. 

You may be one of the faithful followers of the Acre or you might have just wandered in looking for instructions on how to cook the perfect roasted chicken.  Either way, you are more than welcome.  Poke around.  Look for something interesting.  Make a comment.  The next ten years promise to be just as rich (and diverse) as the first ten.

Mostly, stick around for what is up next.  You won’t want to miss it.

I’m a Mountain Man

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
Mount Rainier, 2014.

If you were to give me a choice between a vacation on the beach, lounging on surf and sand, or a vacation in the mountains, hiking hill and dale, I would chose the mountains, hands down, without question, every single time.  It’s not that I hate the beach.  I love the ocean, the surf, and the birds.  But there is something about the majestic beauty of the mountains that calls to my soul. Perhaps it is the way they change in shape and form with every angle.  It might be the way they hide in a mist of cloud and fog one moment yet suddenly tower above you in the bright light of day a moment later.

A mountain is visible from hundreds of miles away and appears to be so close you can touch it, but the harder you try to find it, the further away it feels.  And, while climbing a mountain gives me the sensation of a slight heart attack, it also fills my heart with  joy: Flora and fauna surround.  Ice and snow turn into babbling brooks and gurgling streams.  There is no sound but that of the mountain, its inhabitants, and the wind blowing through the pines.  Ah, be still my heart.

Over the years we’ve found ourselves in the mountains all across this great country.  We’ve poked along the Appalachian and Blue Ridge Mountains.  We’ve traversed the Rockies, scaling the Flatirons on Green Mountain and cogging our way up to the top of Pike’s Peak.  We’ve lounged in the Adirondacks, lost our breath in the Tetons and celebrated beauty in the Cascades.  Even with these adventures, we’ve only begun to scratch the surface of the possible heights we can explore.

You can keep your theme parks and big cities.  You can have the waves on the beach.  You can forget fancy hotels and high-end boutiques.  I’ll stand on a granite peak every time.  Sure, the air is thin and the climb takes effort; but isn’t that the truth about everything worthwhile?  We have to work to get there and in the end, when we take a moment to look down from the summit, it takes our breath away.

 

Changing History

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
Abraham Lincoln, ranked No. 5 in the 100 most influential people of history.

I often wonder about the mark I will leave on this planet when I’m gone.  It is common for us to be interested in our legacy.  We want to stand out.  We want to make a difference.  We want to be unique.  We want to be known for something.

But the truth is, you are only one in 7 BILLION people living on the planet today.  A 2011 estimate suggests that at least 107 billion people have populated this planet over the course of all recorded time.  Of those, only a rare few have made it into the pages of your 5th grade history book.

TIME Magazine ranked the top 100 historically significant people of all time. I was not surprised to see many religious figures on the list; Jesus (1), Muhammad (3), and Gautama Buddha (52).  Philosophers and deep thinkers like Karl Marx (14) and Socrates (68) will find their names on the list, if they ever care enough to look.  Way too many American presidents are on the list.   Many church leaders, artists and writers win a spot; Martin Luther (17), Leonardo da Vinci (29), Shakespeare (4), Dickens (33) and Martin Luther (17).

Of note, and worthy of its own blog, only a few women made the list:  Elizabeth I (13), Queen Victoria (16),  and Joan of Arc (95).  Seriously?  You either have to rule a monarch or be burned at the stake to be an influential female.

But here’s what I realized as I thought about those 97 men and three women on TIME’s list:  A list of 100 people in a world populated by 107 billion is absurd.  People change the world, influence history, make a difference each and every day.  You just don’t know their names.  They might not free slaves like Lincoln (5) or start wars like Bush (36) or conquer the world like Caesar (15), but they leave a mark, just the same.

For instance, who created the perfect cup of coffee?  I don’t know his name but he changed my world.  How about Napoleon’s (2) mother?  She helped shape the little man, for better or worse.  Why isn’t she there to get a little credit and share a little blame?  At the very least, an honorable mention should go to the guy who invented indoor plumbing. And while we’re on the subject, how about a nod for the genius who developed softer toilet paper?

If it were up to me, I would have added Neil Armstrong (101) for, oh, I don’t know, walking on the moon, and Rosalind Elsie Franklin (102) for truly discovering DNA.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
Generals develop strategies but it’s the soldiers who win or lose a war.

Over the course of history, men and women fought tyranny and oppression by storming beaches, hiding refugees, and standing up for what is right and against what is wrong.  Millions fed hungry children, provided shelter for the homeless, helped the hurting, and held the hand of the dying.  We will never know their names.  We will never know the full story.  They are the anonymous masses that make life bearable.  We only know the world is a better place today because of their selfless, courageous acts.

And that’s the lesson, isn’t it?  Not everyone can or should grow up to be President.  (Of the 472 million people who were born American, only 44 of them ever took the oath of office.)  But everyone, every single one, can make a difference.  They CAN leave a mark.  They can change the life of someone through tenacity, courage, creativity and love.

We may never make the list of the top 100 influential persons of all time, but we can, we must make a difference in the world.  Starting today.

 

Service With A Smile

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
Ken earned five dollars for impressing us with his singing and his service!

Occasionally, you stumble upon someone who has that certain sparkle, that extra flash, the “it” factor.

Ken is one of those people.

You might miss the special quality if you concern yourself with the freshness of the post-wedding salad, the seasoning of the chicken, the snap of the green beans.  Talking with other invited guests at the table, you might not look up from the dinner to catch the enthusiastic grin and skip in your server’s step.  But, if you watch him work the table, if you follow him around the room as he serves the meal and clears the dishes, you will be impressed; you will be amazed.

It was my delight to take a moment to talk with Ken and discover that his is more than a talented waiter.

Many young people serve food because it is nothing more than a starting point in a life of greater, more meaningful employment.  But not Ken.  He doesn’t do this job out of necessity.  He serves at banquets, celebrations and social events because he loves people.  He gets jazzed by the work.  He lights up when he serves.  He enthusiastically ensures that the guests are well cared for.

I suspect that Ken won’t work for this catering company for very long.  My guess is that in a very short time he will OWN this company.  His work ethic, charming personality and firm handshake guarantee that he will use is degree to quickly rise to a place of leadership.  He will blaze a path to the top and in the process, he will make many, many people very happy.

You Just Have to Dance

Anything can bring about the urge:  The birth of your daughter, the special honor at work, or maybe a beautiful spring day after a long, cold winter.  Perhaps you felt it when you graduated from high school or finished your college career.  It might have happened when you met the love of your life.  It could have been losing those first 10 pounds, giving up a bad habit, or getting that perfect job.

Whatever it is, there are times you just have to dance.

It’s possible that today could be one of those days when you hear the music deep in your bones.  Your heart will fall into rhythm.  Your spirit will soar!  So, kick off your shoes.  Bounce your head just a bit.  Strike a pose.  Turn up the stereo and let it all go.

Trust me.  It will be good for your soul!

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

 

 

 

My Newest Venture

The newest member of my income-making family.
The newest member of my income-making family.

By all accounts, I am an entrepreneur.  With a little creativity and a lot of hard work, I’ve been able to earn funds from funerals and gather wealth from weddings.  I’ve written blog posts for profit and gardened for a little green.  I was lucrative at landscaping and remunerated for my readings.  In short, I am always looking for a way to make some money.

And so, when I bought my new-to-me John Deere L130 garden tractor last fall, I knew there had to be a way to cash in:  Enter my neighbor.

Having hired my kids to mow his yard each summer for the past decade, I knew he would be looking for a replacement mower after the boys moved out last autumn.  As the grass turned green this spring, I subtly dropped the hint that I would be happy to mow his yard, but only if he wanted me to.  I knew I could knock his yard out in record time with my new 48-inch cutting deck and teeth-rattling 23-horsepower under the green hood.  Reluctant at first, he was quick to sign on after mowing his yard himself for the first time this year.

I was thrilled!  A yard that took my boys 45-minutes to push mow would take me a mere 20-minutes of comfortable riding.  For very little effort, I would make quite a bit of dough.

For many years my neighbor paid my boys up to $25 per mowing job.  However, because we are friends, I’m only charging $20.  But problems started early on when my “friend” texted me one evening as the thunderclouds began to form on the horizon.  He wanted me to mow before the rain hit; a difficult task as I was just finishing my own perfectly manicured lawn.  The tension began to rise when I explained how his last minute request fit into my pricing schedule:

  1. The Friend and Family Rate ($20) = This is subject to change by how snotty you are if I don’t respond to your beck and call (See #4)
  2. The Convenience Rate ($35) = I mow at my own convenience
  3. The Use-To-Be Friends & Family Rate ($50 + the cost of gas) = (See #1)
  4. The Emergency Rate ($75) = My car payment is due so I’m mowing your yard whether you need me to or not.
  5. The It’s About To Rain Rate ($85) = You didn’t look at the weather and now you need your yard mowed right away.

This text request clearly fell into price #5.  However, the argument was entirely my fault.  I failed to provide my pricing schedule up front.  My neighbor was under the impression that every yard mowing came in at the Friends & Family Rate.

To alleviate any future confusion…or fist fights…I’ve decided that I should print business cards with my services outlined (weddings, funerals, lawn mowing) and the pricing schedule above.  I expect that I should soon be able to retire from my day job and simply drive around the neighborhood on my mower, cutting grass, performing weddings and the occasional funeral, raking in the cash as I roll!

Taking Out The Trash

cropped-austins-acre-sunrise-barn1.jpgLet’s be honest.  This was a week of crazy.  This was a work week of stupid.

In just three short days in the office I dealt with a liar and a thief and a couple very smart people without an ounce of ethics in their bones.  I was trapped in my office as people went on 30-minute rants about their drives to work, the conditions of the roads and the stupid people who drive them.  I suffered a man who seems to desire nothing more than making his girlfriend uncomfortable with his choices, his humor and his selfish desires.  I tolerated a woman who finds joy in making her coworkers’ lives miserable by assigning meaningless tasks.  I endured another woman who needed action on a project immediately, resulting in hours of work on my part only to find that she meant her 32 emails to go to someone else and their project.

It was a banner week.  One for the books.  And I can guarantee you’ve had one just like in the past…And will have one just like it in the future.  People can get under our skin.  Their constant droning can ring in our ears like the 7-year locust on a hot summer day.

However, I’ve discovered a new trick to avoid the annoying buzz they bring:  I let them carry out whatever they’ve carried in; not literally, of course, but in my own mind’s eye I see them hauling out the hubris.  What I do is this:  As they talk, blab, drone, blather and complain, I grab a notepad and I scribble down their story.  I record their rant.  I compose their confession.  I draft their droning.  I write their rant.

It’s like taking notes in a meeting…only a lot more fun.  I don’t write entire sentences but only jot key words, central themes and great quotes.  And when they leave, I throw it away. I simply toss it in the trash. I crumple the complaints. I destroy the diatribe.  I shred the sound off.  I trash their tirade.  When they leave the room, they take their garbage with them and I eliminate the evidence.

I don’t allow them to leave their emotional litter.  I pick up their piles of poisoned passion and I sweep away the sour sentiments.

Imagine a day in your life when you are not side-tracked by crazy.  Imagine a time when another person’s philippic doesn’t become your own internal struggle.  Imagine living life free from other peoples’ problems. This is one way to clear your desk and your mind and get back to the things that matter most.

Try it next week.  It just might work as well for you as it does for me!

 

A Priest, A Minister and a Drunk Walk Into Paradise

paneraTrue story:  I was sitting in a local Paradise Bakery working on my laptop.  A local priest took a seat one table over and got out his laptop to work on his own project.  A woman came in, spread her coat across a chair back and started talking on her cell phone…very loudly.

As an aside, I’m not sure why people think that their conversations are private when they talk at full volume in public places…but this woman had no idea that every word was broadcast for all to hear.

Back to the story:  And so, as she went on at full volume, everyone on our end of the establishment were privy to many details about her life that I would rather not know.  For example, I now know that her boyfriend, who was on the other end of this call, won’t shut up or believe anything she says.  I know about her undying love for her boyfriend, her commitment to him, her promise to never, EVER to be angry with him no matter who he looks at or how many nights he stays away.  I know that she went to the liquor store to purchase his “booze for tonight”.  I know that there is another woman now staying in a hotel because of “the pictures” (I am not making this up).  After ten minutes of this, I looked over to the priest and said, “Well, I’ve heard a lot of stories in my time but this is one of the best.”

He mentioned that if he wasn’t wearing his collar, he would sit closer and just stare at her and soak it all in.  I explained that as a former pastor, I’d heard my own fair share of interesting stories…And together we just laughed and laughed!!

And it was at that exact moment then the woman got up and walked over to the priest, stood in front of his table and said, “Father Patrick?”  He stammered a response but before he could say anything she went on, “It’s me!  Judy!” she threw her arms out wide, her eyes were bright with excitement to see the Padre.

Father Patrick replied, “Why, yes…uh, Judy.  Of course.  How are you…J, J, Judy?” his lack of memory of this woman was obvious and Judy was on to him.

“You don’t remember me do you?”  She put her hands on her hips and tilted her head to one side and a sly grin came across her face.

“Of course I do!”  He smiled but it was too late.  That ship had sailed.  “How are you?”

“I’m great.  Three years sober.  Remember?  You use to drive me to my AA meetings each week?” And her story went on from there.  I won’t bore you with the details but suffice it to say, this section of her story wasn’t nearly as juicy as the cell phone section.  I suspect she toned it down for her former Priest / Chauffeur.

After what seemed like an eternity, she finally said good-bye.  When she took her seat across the restaurant, Father Patrick leaned in and whispered to me from across the table, “I’m just glad my foot isn’t any bigger or it wouldn’t be able to fit in my mouth.”

And together we just laughed and laughed!!  Well, I laughed.  Father Patrick, not so much.

Memories of Bananas

18001452168Many, MANY years ago, I snapped this picture as part of a photography project for art school.  The assignment, to complete a set of pictures as part of a series, was a fun task that challenged my creative nature and technical skills.  I decided to carry a bunch of bananas with me to various locations and take pictures of them in unusual situations.  These locations ranged from a downtown city street to a hog lot at the Davis Purdue Ag Center.  By the end of the project, the bananas were black, slimy and disgusting.  I got an “A” on the project.  It was after all, great art.

My favorite shot occurred in front of the swing set while my nephews played in their back yard during a family gathering.  The picture itself won high praise from my professor who loved the angles (roof of the house, swing set, and shadows) , the compartmentalized individuals (my nephews, my father-in-law on the porch, my wife to the far right), and the action occurring while the fruit is in the foreground.

This picture also is one of my favorites because it represents a more innocent time in our family’s life.  It is a symbol of life “Before”.  This shot was taken when the boys were young.  It occurred when we were all living a more simple life.  It was before tragedy had visited.  It was before Alex’s accident and death.  It was before Granny’s stroke, the cancer diagnosis, the fall down the stairs.  It was before Alex’s accident, his death and funeral.

It is a moment of time, captured in that perfect state with shadows stretching long over the newly cut grass, children’s laughter ringing in the air and the smell of barbeque lingering in the cool evening breeze.  And it is a moment that will never be again.  When this picture was taken, the bananas were still fresh and ripe in the basket. 

I love this picture…for so many reasons.

From Boys to Men

Boys to MenThere is a beautify that comes from living with good friends over many years.  A rhythm develops and a give-and-take grows from weekly interactions, soulful conversations and an ongoing, loving dialogue.  You get to know each member very well and they, in turn, get to know you.  They can see when you are struggling.  They can help you prepare when the dark clouds form on the horizon. They stand beside you when parenting is hard.  They are present during surgeries, illness and family funerals.  They love you through the painful days in ways no one else can.

And they can share in your hopes, dreams, joys and celebrations.  They relish in your successes.  They are present when babies are born.  They cheer when graduations occur.  They sing at the tops of their lungs during birthday parties.

They are good friends walking with you along this path of life.

I’m am so happy that I am able to reap the benefits of this relational treasure.  But with the benefit comes a responsibility that to the members of your group and the generations that will follow.

The picture on the left is from May 2006. It reveals the men of our group and young Elliott, then 10 years old, as we volunteered at a local women’s shelter.  That day we moved wood, cleaned trash piles and gave sweat and blood to the project.  In short, we all spent a fun morning doing hard work that made a difference.  Elliott is now 18 years old.  He donates his time to the church.  He travels on missions trips.  He engages the community.  He is a productive member of society.  And we were a small part of that journey to adulthood.

The picture on the right was taken last night (July 5, 2013).  Javier is eight.  He is funny, energetic, and creative.  The men in our group engage him in conversation, ask him questions about his life and love him like a son.  There is no way for us to know what he will be ten years from now.  But we do know that it is our responsibility to stand with him, to love him, to guide him along that path and into adulthood.

Over our many years together, our group has helped raise Eli, Abby, Jonathan and Emily.  Most recently, we’ve loved Benjamin and Elliott to adulthood.  But we aren’t done.  We still need to hug on and pray for Claire, Hannah, Javi and Mia.  The youngest members of our troupe, Audry and Wesley are just learning what it means to be a part of this odd mix of extended family: Aunts and Uncles that are not in their blood line but love them as if they were.  And with each passing year we will find new ways to engage, love and care for these blessed charges as we continue to engage, love and care for each and every member of our group.

May God continue to give us wisdom, patience and love as we live out this incredible responsibility, this amazing challenge, and this awesome opportunity.

Old Man

0008_In%20FocusIt was nothing more than an attempt at Intaglio printing; my first print from 1982.

It doesn’t have a name and there is only one copy remaining in my portfolio.  And yet, it is one of my favorite prints.  There isn’t anything about it that will win awards.  It doesn’t excel in composition, line quality or style.  It doesn’t tell a story.  It is doubtful that it will ever hang on a gallery wall.  But I like it.

It represents a time when I was trying to learn a craft.  It reflects a moment when I was willing to take a chance.  It reveals a period of my life when I stretched my comfort zone and explore new media, new ideas and new goals.  It tells the tale of a desire to be different; to be better.

When is the last time you took a chance?  When is the last time you stepped out into the unknown?  Was it 1984?  Have decades rolled past without a challenge?  Have you stayed in your comfort zone so long that the idea of peaking over the fences into greener pastures is terrifying?

Since 1982, I’ve changed jobs (pastor, deli manager, warehouse worker, ICU clerk, law firm lackey, research coordinator) and each new position brought new challenges.  I’ve become a writer (blogging since 2004, 3rd place winner of Writer’s Digest Short Story Competition) and some of my stuff is really good and others stink.  I completed my Fine Arts degree.  I completed my Master of Divinity degree.  I’m starting on my Bachelors of Science in Communication degree.  I’m learning Spanish.

Perhaps more important than any of these, I’ve learned how to cook the perfect roasted chicken and a yummy Beef Bourguignon that would make Julia Child very proud.

But the point is I’m still that guy who drew this face back in 1982.  I’m willing to try it.

New job?  Sure.  Different food?  Of course!  A revolutionary idea?  Why not?

What will you do today to stretch your comfort zone?  What will you try that is new and different?  How will you grow beyond the self-imposed boundaries that you’ve created over the years?

I suggest you try drawing an old man, rather than becoming one.

 

Life Lesson #32 – Use the Baguette

IMG_4154[1]Whenever making a chicken sandwich, it is best to roast your own chicken and then slice it into nice, thick pieces.  Refrigerate the remaining chicken for later use.  Gather an onion and some fresh lettuce and a perfectly ripe tomato from your garden.  Slice them into thick pieces.  Whip up a little mayonnaise using fresh egg yolks from your barn-yard chickens and a little light olive oil and freshly squeezed lemon juice with a pinch of salt and a dash of pepper.  Gingerly slice some 3-year-old Gouda and prepare to toast the meat and cheese to a bubbly perfection.  Combine all the ingredients and enjoy.

Please understand, all of this is negotiable.  The sandwich is good with these ingredients but the truth of the matter is that the meal will live and die based on the bread you use.    It is possible to buy sliced chicken, lettuce and onion.  You can skip the tomato and use Miracle Whip if you want.  Throw on a slice of processed American cheese if that is all you have.  But you must never, and I mean NEVER use anything but a whole wheat baguette for this sandwich.

Slice the crispy, crunchy, wonderful bread along the body of the loaf.  Use six inches for a nice sized sandwich.  Put on the meat and cheese and place it in a toaster oven.  When done, bring it out and finish with the remaining toppings.

Enjoy with a nice white or red wine.  It will change your life.  I promise and you’re welcome.