It salami time!

Maybe it’s the lingering effects of unaccustomed sun beating down on my fish-white neck all day yesterday as I tried to rototill a garden with my bare hands, as the bug-eyed little boy from next door snuck up behind me every time I hit my stride and shrieked, “KIN I TELL YOU SUMPIN’!!!!!!!” in my ear (what he wanted to tell me was, “A BABY WORM!!!!!!”), but for some reason this video from Neatorama struck me as funny.  It’s an automated salami-sorting device. 

 To be honest, the machine itself didn’t seem especially amusing or miraculous, or even discernably useful, to me (what about all the salami it’s letting go?  Are they just going to throw away all that other salami, or what?).  It was the little blurb before the video that tickled me:

  Input disorganized salami and the robot will produce beautiful, orderly rows of salami, keeping track of the status of the salami. Considering how important salami is, I’m amazed we ever trusted anyone other than robots to sort it.

I think “input disorganized salami” is what we call a statistically improbable phrase — although not around my house, actually.  Here is a recent shot of my daughter, age Knows Better, attempting to input salami directly into her ear:

Still reading?  Okay.  Salami has been important in my family for generations.  My mother always used to say to my little brother, while fixing lunch, “Jacob, do you want salami, too?” leading him to believe that the name of this delectable meat product was actually “lami.”  Of which he was being offered “some.” 

If you watched to the end of the video, it turned out the food item being so dubiously sorted was actually some kind of unholy cross-breed saddled with the moniker “Peperami.”  Peperami.  That, in combination with the wholly salami-inappropriate music, is what makes me question why I’m posting any of this. 

Speaking of unholy, I seem to have just spent 26 minutes searching for a video clip of Howard Dean stating that the Bush administration, in nominating Harriet Miers to the Supreme Court, was trying to play “hide the salami.” 

Well, it was sunny yesterday, but it’s raining today.  KIN I TELL YOU SUMPIN’????  This right here, what you’re reading today, is why I’ve decided not to homeschool anymore.  Why I’ve decided to continue blogging here is anyone’s guess. 

Simcha Fisher


Simcha Fisher is a cradle Hebrew Catholic, freelance writer, and mother of eight young kids. She received her BA in literature from Thomas More College in New Hampshire. She contributes to Crisis Magazine and Faith & Family Live!, and blogs at I Have to Sit Down. She is sort of writing a book.

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