While in The Grocery Store a few months ago, I felt flippant about fruit and exclaimed (in jest) that we should purchase all of the too-difficult-for-its-own-good foods like a whole coconut. The Man got that gleam in his eyes, and the spirit of adventure took hold. Why not buy a coconut? Doesn’t everyone want a coconut? After all, any food that requires a hammer can only say something that is a sick mixture of cave man antics and Martha Stewart: “I am a man. I hit things. They taste good and may be used for many delicate desserts.”
So we bought a coconut.
The Man then proceeded to read all things internet-based on coconuts and became something of a coconut connoisseur — a cocosseur? We had raw coconut, baked coconut, and coconut trail mix within the first week. This would have been stupendous if I liked coconut in any way other than covered in chocolate and… well… not really coconut-like in any way. He also attempted macaroons, which is basically the only coconut-based product that I’ll get excited over. They immediately fell apart into what he has affectionately dubbed cocoslaw. Hey if it tastes like macaroons – who cares what it looks like!
The food products have become means to an end, however, since the dining room table has become the workshop for a massive coconut guitar pick business. The Man has even become a hipster about it, too! No power tools will touch the process, only antique hand tools and hours of labor. For the first coconut, it was a fun pastime. Four coconuts later, he has been sending an assortment of sizes cross-country to several guitarist friends to try out the new material, sizes, and textures. All these guys are thrilled to talk about coconut tone and how it would normally cost so much for a pick like this. Did you know this would be nice on nylon strings? I wonder if you make a big one if it would do nice things for a bass. Oh! What kind of oil are you using to finish them? Do you think I could also become a cocosseur? There is a national cocofrenzy!
Somehow a flippant fruit day has united guitar buddies around the world. The Dad even got a batch of picks for Fathers Day. The Dad could not have asked for a better gift! There was even a complimentary tutorial of each of the tools, how to file appropriately, and then a final concert of each pick and what their purpose might just be. I guess we know now that The Man doesn’t half-do any hobby. I wonder what food-based artisan effort will hit our apartment next!