by Barron B. Hoffbeck (no. 12513)

Lodge 129 has long found fulfillment and brotherly fellowship in congregating ‘round the hall longtable for a potluck supper. The proverbial “Jacob’s join” is a wonderful and exciting meal experience–the thrill of discovery, the pride in sharing a toothsome treat. Unfortunately, last week’s potluck was mired by a loathsome abundance of that most lazy vehicle of empty calories and carbohydrates: the potato side dish.

The evening began with usual tempered zeal–ruby red plastic tablecloth clipped, the after-dinner coffee percolating. How warmly did I survey the ever sprawling concatenation of tupperwares, dutch ovens, and crocks.

Unfortunately, the promise of a wonderful meal was quickly turned by that most turgid spice: excess. When we approached the kitchen island, plates in hand, the crock lids and dish linens were cast aside to reveal that out of the eight dishes brought to share, six of them were of the potato. It is a credit to our fine lodge and temperate upbringings that we “hitched up our britches” and faced this culinary deconstruction of the spud with smiling faces and stoic hearts.

That is not to say there were not still some shining moments among the tuber onslaught. Tumbler Abernath’s prized German potato salad made a welcome return.  A rather uninspired showing from Locksmith Markett–”baked” potatoes (obviously microwaved)–was positively resuscitated by a heroic appearance in the third act by Locksmith Pfenderson’s homemade salmon spread (still a few jars available–makes an excellent stocking stuffer!) Sadly, Locksmith Haggerty’s peach tart was positively sullied by errant gratin from a reused a serving spoon. I can’t say it enough: bring your own serving spoons, people!

If there’s a lesson to be learned from this potluck, it’s that we should never forget the founding principles of our illustrious order: “secrecy, subterfuge, solicitude.” Let us not rest on our laurels and count on serendipity to deliver a balanced supper. Suss out your neighbor’s potluck plans. Peep at her pantry. Tip off her grocer. If you know the plans of your fellow potluckers, victory is assured.

I’m reminded, dear reader of Lodge 129’s involvement in the 1996 Summer Olympics in Atlanta, Georgia. Traditionally, the Order of the Grand Lock enjoys complete and unmolested control over the events of Field (but not Track, sadly). In the summer of ‘96 we were dismayed to learn that our rival lodge, the Guardian of the Orb had infiltrated the Olympic committee and taken our rightful spot as “maître de la marionnette” of Field events. Lo but did we not spring into action! Through duplicitousness, cunning, and some Hollywood movie makeup, we infiltrated the Guardians of the Orb themselves, allowing them to falsely believe they were in control when in fact it was through our steady hand that Balázs Kiss (HUN) took gold in hammer throw.

“Secrecy, subterfuge, solicitude.” Remember these principles, dear reader. Until next potluck, toodle-oo for now!

From Volume 871 Issue 14 – Subscribe here, members, to be the first to get the next newsletter!