Bittersweet news: our Bacon of the Month saga is coming to a close. I’d almost decided never to bother writing about bacon again. Then my son, who’d slipped into the bed during the night woke me up early by kicking me in the nuts…a lot. His slender boy foot was like keen-edged garden shovel trying to chisel off my scrotum. Naturally I thought Elisa was behind the assault so I made a heavy armed swat for her – nothing but pillow. Where the hell was my wife’s head?

Then Jacko arrived, after a long labor, and a martial maternity nurse came along to demonstrate how attach him to his mom with the mechanical roughness of a wrench to a lug nut (upon request she was promptly replaced with far nicer nurse.) She was followed by La Leche League’s Mz. Furrlip with her rolling kiosk of books, tapes, lubes, lotions, Tupperware, rubber hats…and machines with gears, nozzles, tubes, whirligigs and what appeared to be little brain transference caps straight out of a Bugs Bunny cartoon. With her whiskery, smile-free face and brusque demeanor I’d wondered why she was allowed to sell her wares in the hospital. Wasn’t breast feeding just as much about love and bonding as it was nutrition? This sour gant was far better suited for abortion protests or working an organic turnip stand. It had gotten very weird

Saturday mornings I drag my ass over to paint lines and set up goals. I also get to spray paint notes to my son on the sidelines! Interesting how things change over a lifetime. Scoot past Jack’s arrival a half decade ago and travel to Boston of fifteen years past. What was young Frankie doing at 25? Well if it was 6:30AM in April I was already getting sick of the early sunlight and thinking about finally going to bed. I might be dialing a cab for a ride back from wherever the hell I was or wondering how many people to boot out of my apartment to make it quiet enough to sleep.

 
   First off, I’d like to note how cool Wynonna Judd is for staying fat for her fat pill commercials. It saves us all from having to wonder if alli® actually works. Therefore this installment of Bacon of the Month goes out to that wonderful, Country singin’, crybaby cow.
 
   We’re …

Happy Belated Evacuation Day, btw, for all you souses who took a day of rest after annihilating yourselves in homage to our patron Naomh Padraig. 
Anyhow, it’s the 19th and we’ve yet to eat any March bacon. I’d like to think my last review, a weeee bit unkind towards the owner …

Even my bacon junkie boy, Jack, grimaced and winced as though a pig had just punched him in the face, “Daddy, can we buy good bacon next time?”

This stuff goes right to the top into that Scarlett Johansson’s tongue category. It was awesome, wicked decent as they say in RI, and a hell of a nice way to start The Year in Pork. Vande Rose Farms attributes the outstanding bacon to its Iowa Duroc hogs…