These two pivotal discoveries, fire, and later, alcohol occurred roughly 136,000 years apart, yet each helped pave the way for the modern-day barbecue. Not that there has to be alcohol at barbecues, but if you saw the caliber of folk I hang out with, you'd know it could only help.
So today I started thinking: What was the first barbecue like, the first one with alcohol on hand? This was probably during the Neolithic period, so imagine with me if you will . . .
. . . a sunny day in Asia Minor, a block party is in full-swing and the blocks are granite. The event is a B.Y.O.V. (Bring Your Own Vessel) gathering. Oonka Ugga is scolding her children for bothering their father.
“Goon-Goon! Morsquat! Leave your father alone! You know it takes him forever to build ONE SIMPLE LITTLE FIRE! And you know he’s even slower when people WATCH HIM!”
“But we wanna learn how to build a fire!” whines Goon-Goon.
“Well, you certainly won't learn by watching your father! Now scoot!”
Clodchunk Ugga is a man on his knees, literally and figuratively. Sweat is beading on his brow. A tiny spark kindles amid the leaves and twigs before him. A fragile flame takes hold and Clodchunk Ugga can’t believe his good fortune. Excitedly he blows on the fire and . . . the fire goes out. Clodchunk’s thirty-third time’s a charm, however, and this time the fire leaps to life.
”Hah, Oonka!” he yells derisively, pointing at the flames. “Take that and shove it where the hot and golden ball don’t shine! And while you’re at it, stop belittling me in front of the kids!”
Oonka groans, dismissing her husband with a wave of her dainty, calloused hand. “Oh, puhleeze. People have been building fires for 136,000 years and it took you that long just to build that one! Do you have any idea how slow you are at fire-building compared to Wham-Bam Boom-Boom?”
“Now that’s just great!” yells Clodchunk. “It’s been all of five minutes since the last time you mentioned him! Congratulations, you broke your own record!”
Despite his bravado, Clodchunk feels emasculated. Soon he is pouring his first gourdful of bite-bite juice. Several gourdsful of bite-bite juice later, Clodchunk is itching for a fight and if it turns out to be with Wham-Bam Boom-Boom, why, that's even better.
It’s just a matter of time before Wham-Bam saunters over, all cocky and arrogant-like. He is tall - nearly 5'7" - and his jet black hair stylishly glistens with boars' fat. He sneers at Clodchunk then gives Oonka a long and leering once-over.
“Well, hi there, Oonka.”
“Hello, Wham-Bam,” Oonka demurs, coy and blushing.
Wham-Bam directs his attention to Clodchunk.“Who started that little flicker for ya, Cloddy old boy? Did Goon-Goon do that? Or was it Morsquat?”
Clodchunk pretends to ignore Wham-Bam, squats down near the flames and points. “Hey, wow!” he yells. “A diamond – right there by the fire! Well, will ya look at that!” He reaches toward the flames then jerks his hand back. “Ooh! Ooh! It’s way too hot for me to even touch it! I guess I’m just not man enough!”
Wham-Bam rushes over to where Clodchunk still squats. “Where? Where’s the diamond? I don’t see it!”
“Right there!” Clodchunk bellows, still pointing. “You can’t see that? Why, it’s huge!”
Wham-Bam gets down on his hands and knees, his rump in the air, his face practically in the fire. “I still don’t see it!” he yells.
"It's right - THERE!" grunts Clodchunk, shoving Wham-Bam's head into the flames which instantly singe off Wham-Bam's eyebrows. "Oh, sorry, Wham-Bam. I guess that was nothing but a big - dumb - rock . . . kind of like you."
Alarmed, Oonka hurls a gourdful of bite-bite juice at Wham-Bam’s head in an attempt to cool him down, but the alcohol, combined with the boars' fat and an errant spark, cause his hair to erupt in flames. Explosions can be heard for blocks. A second dousing of bite-bite juice only makes things worse for some reason.
Grinning, Clodchunk jerks a thumb in the direction of Wham-Bam’s smoking, bald head. “Now, that,” he boasts to Goon-Goon and Morsquat, “is how you build a fire!”
