I was half-hungry because I’d been to a meeting where pie charts had been displayed.

I saw a slice of pie in the convenience store where I’d stopped to buy gas after the meeting. There is an “I” in pie. I considered buying the pie and warming it in the microwave oven in my hotel room, but I didn’t. I’d learned from past experience that pie microwaved in a hotel room tastes like bad popcorn.

Eating pie is like going home. My father favored lemon meringue. He believed in moderation in all things except eating lemon meringue pie. My mother agreed with Alice Munro who wrote in “How I Met My Husband,” “Have a house without a pie, be ashamed until you die.”

My mother always had a pie up her sleeve. When life gave her lemons, she made lemon meringue pie.

I’ve worked at a good number of church soup and pie suppers. People of a certain age line up early in order to get a shot at a slice of sour cream and raisin pie.

I’ve eaten some strange pies, like vinegar pie. I’ve enjoyed them all. I don’t know any better. Amish sugar cream pie and Dutch almond pie delight me.

There is no bad pie, other than octopi and chocolate cream. They make mighty poor eating. I’ve never tried a cow pie, but I hear it’s almost as bad as chocolate cream. I love cherry pie. My mother and my bride have made me cherry pies instead of birthday cakes. One of many reasons I love them. Pecan pie is sublime. Strawberry and key lime pie rock. Blueberry pie is yummy. Pumpkin pie can be sublime. Apple pie is good, especially if it’s an old-fashioned one with a crust made with lard. It’s easily found in your major health food stores.

The best things to put in a pie are teeth. Whipped cream or melting ice cream make all pie better.

Pie is a dessert and it’s a weapon. When I was a boy, I attended John Deere Days and Allis-Chalmers Days in beautiful downtown Hartland. Films were shown that highlighted pie-in-the-face slapstick comedy. The Three Stooges starred in “The Sweet Pie and Pie” and pies flew. It was great. We didn’t see Laurel and Hardy featured in perhaps the greatest pie fight film of all time. It was called “The Battle of the Century” and 3000 pies were used. The pie commonly used in those films was probably a cream pie without a crust. Maybe a custard pie. Today, it’s usually a paper pie plate filled with whipped cream or shaving cream. I know from personal experience that shaving cream makes a miserable pie.

In the cartoons, Bugs Bunny hit Elmer Fudd in the face with a pie. In the comic books, the Joker schemed to hit Batman in the face with a pie.

Maybe you’ve been hit with a pie. I have. It was at a charity fundraiser. My life flashed before my eyes. It tasted like whipped cream. Not a bad thing. My mother made homemade whipped cream that caused angels to dance and I once was employed by a company that made Cool Whip.

The last time my life flashed before my eyes was when I fell off a 50-foot ladder. I was lucky that I was on the first rung.

Girls used to make mud pies. Girls probably still make mud pies. They weren’t good even when covered with whipped cream.

There’s nothing sadder than a man who is all bib and no pie, but I can’t eat as many slices of pie as I once did. I’ve solved that problem by cutting a pie into four pieces instead of eight. I’m a different person after eating pie. I’m not sure who that is. Maybe Jimmy Buffet’s cousin or one of Andy Devine’s kids.

No matter where you go, there you are. The neon sign blinked a welcoming, “aily Specials.” I was eating breakfast when a stranger came into the Eat Around It Cafe. He was sporting strange headgear.

“Why are you wearing a banana cream pie on your head?” I asked. You’d have asked the same thing.

“It’s a family tradition. I always wear a banana cream pie on my head on Tuesdays, just like my father and my grandfather before me.”

“This is Wednesday,” I said.

“Oh, no! I must look a total fool.”

He did look foolish. He should have been wearing a cherry pie.

 

Al Batt’s columns appear in the Tribune every Wednesday and Sunday.