Bananas, Bananas and More Bananas

When life takes away my bananas, I make foster.

That’s just the kind of person I am. Literally. Last night I had a hankerin’ for some bananas foster, so I sauntered into the kitchen to take a quick survey of all the necessary ingredients. Butter… check… brown sugar… check… Blue Bell homemade vanilla ice cream… check, check… Rum… check… bananas… bananas… bananas…

To my short-lived horror, there were no bananas. I distinctly remembered buying a beautiful bunch of pristine yellow bananas a few days earlier. However, in the midst of a craving induced fit of stupor, I came to a realization about my 2 year old’s inexplicably bad habit of eating just a bite of banana only to decide she’s not really in the mood for bananas: It cannot peacefully coexist under the same roof as someone who deeply loves bananas foster. As the bleak truth that we were out of the key ingredient for the perfect foster sank in, I immediately started to complain. I tend to do that at times. I’m a bit of a… what would you call it… well… a complainer, at times. But then it hit me. When you have no bananas… why not make foster… just plain ol’ regular foster? Tapping into the vein of the very pioneering spirit that made this county great to begin with, I forged into the great unknown, determined to make the first banana-less foster in Dismukes’ history.

In retrospect… probably not the single greatest creation of my colorful culinary career. But in a pinch, I had bettered a bowl of plain ol’ vanilla ice cream, AND I got to play with fire in the process. Not bad for one man with a handful of ingredients and belly full of hungry. I’d like to see McGyver make do with as little. But perhaps even more impressive was my determination to turn a bad situation into a win/win for me and the bananas – I got a satisfactorily tasty dessert and they didn’t get eaten, while safely slumbering at the local grocery store.
I hate to boast about myself, however, I will gladly do so when given the opportunity. This just happens to be one of those opportunities.

While I’m sure no one will ever write a book about this event, nor will anyone ever sing of the tale of the banana-less foster, I have joined the ranks of an exclusive society. I now count myself among those who have turned the tables on defeat and emerged victorious, despite unfathomably horrendous odds. Members of this hallowed club include the entire 1980 Olympic Hockey Team who, after being crushed by the Russians just days before the opening ceremonies in Lake Placid, came back to claim their membership with a “miracle” run to the gold medal. They had no bananas either… yet they made Olympic foster. Another fellow victor is fictional high school basketball coach Norman Dale as played by Gene Hackman, who led the undersized and undermanned Hickory High School basketball team to the Indiana State Championship, thanks in part to the decision of Jimmy Chidwick, local round ball prodigy, to join the team in mid-season. Coach Dale had no bananas… but he made Hoosier’s foster.

On a side note, William Lear, designer of the Lear Jet was a former member of the club. After his remarkable success in aircraft design, he went on to “grace” the world with the 8-track tape. Apparently the society members decided Lear was headed in the wrong direction and his membership was revoked.

The great Dale Carnegie once said, “when life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” Cute, Dale. But let’s be honest. To make lemonade, you still have to have water, sugar and ice. I mean, if you only put lemons in it, it would suck like a Hoover. A better quote would be (and I’m thinking of petitioning the National Cliché Society), “when life takes away your bananas, just make foster.”