So, I was laying in bed this morning, while my wife was out running, and I suddenly had a morbid thought:

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If I were on Death Row (not the record company), what would I choose as my last meal?  

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As I pondered this hypothetical situation, I first needed a back story.  

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You see, I’m not a violent person. Philosophically speaking, I’m a pacifist. I say philosophically, because I’ve never been in a position in which I needed to be anything but a pacifist. I’ve never been on the receiving end of a home-invasion. I’ve never been witness to violent crime against someone who needed defending. I’ve never been a citizen of a country under attack. If push were to come to shove, I can’t say how I’d react. It could very well be that, if my wife were being threatened, I’d fly into a blind rage, attempting to vindicate, defend and protect her…at any cost.

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That’s it, though. If I were on death row (not Dr. Dre’s version) for any other reason besides religious persecution, it would be for killing someone who tried to hurt my wife; someone who took my love.  

[I told you this was a bit morbid…I’m trying to keep it whimsical, though]

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So, my last meal must fit into this situation.  Also, it must fit my unique and quirky personality.  

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Then, here it is - the menu for my last meal:

  • Chipotle chili-rubbed, pan-seared Alaskan salmon, drizzled in a balsalmic reduction
  • A coupling of oven-roasted asparagus and brocolini, lightly tossed in olive oil
  • Roast garlic and wild-mushroom couscous  
  • For dessert: fresh crème brûlée, with coffee

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All of these things have been special dishes for Ferial and I (except coffee, which she usually doesn’t care for, unless it’s a caramel macchiato).

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If I am to die on death row (not at the hands of Snoop), may it be said that I…

a) loved my wife

b) had excellent taste in food

  1. johntrammell posted this