The simple red and white inverted triangle of the “Cedez le passage” road sign put me in mind of a festive merkin. It also put me in mind of stopping as it would be a bad Sunday indeed that included a collision with a tractor with merkin on my mind. I’ve never really got to grips with the concept of the merkin particularly as it pre-dates the currently fashionable full Brazilian. This being the case, wearing a merkin would be akin to wearing a wig over a full head of hair. The wearing of a head wig (where do earwigs come into this) is understandable in that it can change the appearance of the wearer for better or worse or, indeed, help to conceal their identity. In the case of the merkin it’s hard to imagine how successful its use as a disguise would turn out to be, save in relationships that involved very short men and very tall ladies who chose to meet in the semi obscurity of dimly lit chambers. A merkin on the mind is not an aid to careful driving. The “Cedez le passage” sign had set my mind racing through an area far removed from the navigation of narrow country lanes. Cyclists, walkers and oncoming cars all had narrow escapes as I careered along the road whilst mentally delving deeper and deeper into the mystery of the merkin. My mission of buying bread was nearly forgotten and on arrival at the boulangerie I made sure that my eyes remained downcast as I ordered my “pain cereale” lest la jolie boulangère noticed the merkins of my mind clearly reflected in my eyes. On my return I checked out Wikipedia to clarify any misconceptions I may have had on the merkin front, and it appears that there is no question that where there’s merkin there’s a great deal of smirking. It would seem that all things ribald could be covered by a merkin. Mentally exhausted by my research I needed sustenance and, it being around that time of day, I made the simplest and most delicious pan of sliced smoked sausage, intense tomato sauce and an egg from a nearby farm. This is as sexy to eat as it looks – now where was I?
Merkin whoopee….
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Hysterical Roger. I was fortunate enough to know what a Merkin is (a gay pal of mine told years ago!) but I bet there will be a lot of people googling it today 😉
Google is full of strange stuff about the merkin:)
Didn’t know what a merkin was but know a good repas when I see one.
Well spotted – it really was delicious:)
In NYC, near Lincoln Center, there is Merkin Hall, which whenever I pass always elicits a smirk.
Can you imagine someone having that name – “I would like to introduce to you to my bearded chum, Merkin Hall”:)
Almost like Yurasis Dragen! A character in some eminently otherwise forgettable novel.
Good name though:)
This post could bring down the Wikipedia servers, Roger. Funny stuff — and I’m not just referring to your writing.
When you enter the world of the merkin it all gets very strange:)
I just had to look it up…
Never look up a merkin – it’s very bad manners:)
as in “merkin whoopee” perhaps? hmmm…
A whoopee merkin would certainly make an unusual present:)
Quite delightfully and not unusually I have no idea what you are talking about, but the knife in the bread is an interesting and possibly revealing study! c
Warm, very warm:)
…and I thought you were talking about the chancellor!
Brazilians ar plain weird (and not the people) – perhaps we should stick to windmills 😉
It’s a mad world, MD:)
Wow, everything in that pan looks amazing. Not that I’m surprised.
Cheers, Greg:)
You’ve got a way Roger…you suck us in with the first two words and don’t drop us til you’re fully finished with us, and we’re the happier for it. Another very funny read!
Thanks for that, Antoinette:)
Oh, you do make us do our homework: well, tick next to ‘merkin’ – think I’ll try that one on the next friend in thru’ the door 🙂 !
A merkin in the bush, etc:)
OK, you win! You can come to my New Year’s Party if you bring a few of those merkins.
I’m packing my merkin case as we speak:)
Now that is a great overhead shot.
Such a good taste, too:)
So of course, ex-convent school girl that I am, I had to go and look up merkin. And found it owes its name to mercury which was the cure for sexually transmitted diseases in the 18th century. Of course it made all pubic hair drop out and thus ladies of the night, tall, short or otherwise, donned a tiny toupée to make the magic live on, as it were. Wigs were all the rage then, on men, on women, on any available area so I can quite see how this ludicrous business took off.
I shall never look at Cedez passage signs in quite the same way ever again 😀
Well, I’m glad you’ve cleared up a few of these questions, Kate:)
Oh, the things you learn on the Internet. Excellent, mouthwatering shot.
Just bizarre:)
Well I learned something new today 🙂
🙂
Have to admit I had to look it up..Roger from a road sign to a merkin what an astounding imagination you have!! A very amusing piece !!
Cheers, ken. Hope you’re well/ speak soon:)
You and Anthony Bourdain would make quite the interesting conversation – he was discussing something similar last week 😉 Great image – Anthony Bourdain is a chef too 😉
I know the writing of Anthony Bourdain – he’d be great to talk to.