A while back, my wife made me a chicken salad with a barbecue ranch dressing she had mixed herself. It was really good! As I wolfed down my second helping, I started singing a little song in my head about it. For some reason, it was a slow country ballad and the voice singing it sounded an awful lot like Johnny Cash. It became this.
The Ballad of the Summer of Barbecue Ranch
A long day had come to a close
And me, I trudged homeward to doze.
But I filled with contempt
At my wife’s meal attempt:
A salad. With barbecue ranch.
My day had been long and tough.
This bird food would not be enough!
That had been my notion
‘Til tasting that potion:
That nectar, that barbecue ranch.
I gobbled a bowl, and then two.
The lettuce got barely a chew.
Yet I swirled on my tongue
And inhaled to my lung
The essence of barbecue ranch.
This newly-found delicacy
Became an obsession for me.
And those next months were spent
With my new condiment,
That summer of barbecue ranch.
To satisfy each hunger pang
I needed that sweet tasty twang
And soon all my grilled things —
Hot dogs, burgers, or wings —
Were slathered in barbecue ranch.
One day when I got home from work,
A note told me I’d been a jerk:
“Look, the children and I
Have to bid you good-bye.
You’re crazy — for barbecue ranch.”
I felt so lonely and sad.
How had I let things get so bad?
I spilled many a tear,
Not in whiskey or beer,
But a tall mug of barbecue ranch.
I straightened out my wayward life
And sought a reprieve from my wife.
“Maybe I was deranged,
But now baby, I’ve changed!
I’ve sworn off the barbecue ranch.”
Our life ever since has been great.
I eagerly anticipate
When I get home tonight
We’ll dine by candlelight
On salad… with buffalo ranch.
Copyright 2016 Jim Eltringham