Six Delicious Degrees
Most highly contested things in the universe seem to have constants attached to them. An immutable law of some sort that has a lot of math, pain, and well-studied anguish.
The only equation I could think of for bacon would involve six degrees. I'm not sure how that would be formulated, but we know someone we can ask about it. I'm not going to guarantee that he would be close to an answer. He was the guy who came up with the six degrees thing in the first place in the earlier fabled days of the Internet while guys were likely still programming soda machines at MIT to provide sodas on demand from remote.
Anyone from the 90s Internet days is familiar with Kevin Bacon's Six Degrees website. Honestly, back in the day, we thought he came up with it himself, and somehow it became another thing where folks were connecting with each other in a manner that may have been the basis for some of the matching algorithms in MySpace and Facebook. I speak for no one else here; I just remember meeting people in common in very interesting ways.
What Kevin did come up with was sixdegrees.org, which is a site based on a similar thought process that actually helps people. This doesn't surprise me much because it doesn't take that long to understand that he is like all those other people in your life that have good hearts and just make life better.
His professional life just seems to be the icing on that cake. Somehow Quicksilver led me to Greg Lemond and shaving my legs. Jami Gertz was in that movie, which for the record, I enjoyed very much. I crossed paths with her once in a Los Angeles restaurant. We said hello, and I scampered off in another direction because she had no idea who I was, and just like in other interactions between strangers, that makes it awkward.
Except for grocery store lines. For some reason, you can talk to anyone about anything, sometimes even Grandma's pelvic exam, although I work hard to bank right on those conversations.
I understand how it feels. For a few years, I would get met by smiling faces of tourists wanting an autograph, but I was so much of a people pleaser that I would write something nice with a scribble. Never figured out who they thought I was.
So if you have something like that with a doodle of a sperm with a hula hoop, probably me. Who am I? But sorry.
I just wanted to drop all of that on you since I had the punny platform. This discussion really started when a compatriot on Twitter asked which bacon was better, crispy or soft.
That is a very dangerous question in the house of my youth. You could start a war that way. I like my bacon the way you get it in a diner. My father liked it cooked so hard it resembled something out of an Egyptian tomb, replete with dust and sadness for lost, forgotten days.
My answer was that it wouldn't be there long enough to matter. Which is actually the truth of it. I know people who wrap bacon in chocolate. They claim it makes the chocolate taste better. I'm not that brave. I also have nothing to do with Stanford, so I'm not afraid of words.
If you are, bless your heart. Here's a tissue.
And some bacon.
