I'm Going to Barbecue University

Guess what? Nope. No. Guess, again. OK, I'll tell ya. I don't often publicize it, but I'm a Borders Rewards Member. I'm not tryin' to sound "braggy" ...but, hey, I'm a member.

Recently, I got an offer to submit a written description - 250 words or less - of my "best grilling experience" for a chance to win a spot at the prestigious (it must be, right?) Barbecue University. I've often scoffed at the idea of continuing my education, but even I can be persuaded that an advanced degree might be worth it. What follows is my submission ...hey ...my "ego" is right in the title of this blog, people. Deal with it.

To Whom it May Concern at Borders and Barbecue University:
Like so many men in their mid-30s, that elusive grilling-dream-come-true story had eluded me. Until a few weeks ago. I've often watched Bobby Flay, Steven Raichlen, and Bob Rainford and marveled at their grilling prowess. I've thought, "I can grill like that...I just need a shot. Put me in coach!!!" Queue a going-away-party for our neighbors. My opportunity was finally here. Fajitas were the call. Steak and chicken. And a rice side dish. Thirty guests were mine to impress. Drinks were chilled, sides were brought by neighbors near and far, and laughter and conversation filled my backyard. Now all that was left to do was create the main entree and "WOW" all in attendance. I grilled. I flipped. I misted. I marinated and seasoned. I cut and filleted. I brought rice to a boil on the seldom used side-burner. The neighbor men folk were amazed. The women swooned - well, not really. And in the end, though my equipment may be meek, my efforts were lauded by everyone. The fajitas were magnificent. I was proud. I had, until that point, not yet tasted the sweet nectar of hosting a backyard party. Hamburgers and hot dogs were all I knew. Now that I have truly hosted and grilled, I want more. Borders? Barbecue University? Make my dreams come true. Help me to spread backyard BBQ happiness to generations of friends and family.
Yours Grilly,
-Don