Keep your hands above the counter where I can see them.  No one is going to die if you just keep calm and recommend superb cheeses.  Oh thank you.  I love Camembert!


You know, I haven’t always been like this.   Desperate.  Knocking over cheese shops to get a quick fix.


I used to have a life.  A wife.  Like me shared my passion.  Every morning we would devour the triple brie on our nightstand, make love, and she would sing this little song “aye, aye, aye, aye, I love new cheeses.”


And oh did we have new cheeses.  Smokey vintage Goudas in amber tones firm and flaky,  silky drunken goat in striking violet tones decadent and creamy, the most pungent of epoisses washed in apple brandy and aged to nutty, meaty perfection.


But then our fortunes took a turn for the worse.  We couldn’t afford anything anymore.  We hit rock bottom.  One night, while eating a cracker barrel cheddar, there was the sound of whimpering.  We both looked up in surprise.  It was both of us, we had both begun to wimper without realizing it.  As time wore on the cracker barrel devolved into velveeta and the whimpers into sobs.  And I couldn’t remember the last time I’d heard her sing her little song….


Yes, all of the English Cheshire.


I begged her to sing.  She started “aye aye aye…”. Her voice cracked.  She didn’t have the heart to continue.


I tried to cheer her up, but all I could offer was kraft singles….  She grew listless, lying in bed all day staring at the ceiling.


One day on my way to pick up food stamps I passed this wonderful cheese shop.  I stared through the glass my eyes bouncing like desperate pinballs between a Roquefort, lindburger, and a taleggio…writer Clifton Fadiman’s words came to me “cheese is milk’s leap toward immortality.”


As if in a dream, I walked quickly into the shop, my hand in my coat like this….back then I didn’t actually have a subcompact Glock in my pocket, I assure you I do now…


I scared the heck out of the owner, and I came home with a board from heaven – Gorau Glas, Bitto, and Moose cheese.   It was amazing, like Robert Deniro in awakenings, she came out of her stupor.   She ate we smiled we laughed.   I asked her to sing.


She started, aye…..   Stopped too weak to go on.
The next day another cheese shop, another aye… Aye, aye…
Every day another shop another blissful board another aye until she was able to sing aye aye aye aye, I Lu…Lu….Lu….


We had hit a block at the word love.   But I knew with enough high end  cheese we could push through it…  And I tell you sir, I feel that I am getting close – I am 27 cheese shops into this thing – and I am close to the mother-wedge that will set her free.


It will be sublime.  Her voice strong and clear will ring out and I will rejoice as I hear her sing our song once more.


“Aye, aye, aye, aye, I love new cheeses.”


Now put the rest of that Stinking Bishop in the bag and this will all be over.