the Saucer of Philadelphia

(Originally posted 1/11/2021. Everybody is just looking for their cup.)

I wish the word saucer also meant “somebody that turns things into sauce.” I’m fine with the whole “a shallow dish, typically having a circular indentation in the center, on which a cup is placed” but when I hear the word that’s not what comes to mind.

I think “somebody that turns things into sauce.” As in “I am a saucer”, said proudly, feet apart, back straight, hands on hips and eyes looking off into the distance.

It would also make the term flying saucer much more terrifying. You’d instantly picture an inter-galactic vessel heading home with its shelves packed with humanity in enormous canning jars.

It’s at this point in the ramblings that I usually reference some famous saucer. There are none. This is going to seriously affect the length of this rambling.

It’s at this further point in the ramblings that I suddenly wish my writing was a bit more popular. If I were Dan Brown or J.K. Rowling I could simply mention the Saucer of Sierra Leone and he/she/it would spring into existence. Standing there proudly, feet apart, back straight, hands on hips and eyes looking off into the distance. Perhaps with his/her/its cart laden with humanity in enormous canning jars.

It’s at this final point in the ramblings that I acknowledge why I’m not a more popular writer. The fact that I refer to what I’m doing as rambling as opposed to writing tells you everything you need to know. I’m forced to recognize that I’m a saucer without a cup, if a saucer represents my stories and the cup represents an audience. If I were Dan Brown or J.K. Rowling I’d have to admit I was certainly no Saucer of Sierra Leone. Of course if I were Dan Brown or J.K. Rowling I would be a Saucer of Sierra Leone so I guess that invalidates that particular observation.

My point being, that there are saucers and there are saucers. There are saucers from the Ming Dynasty’s Chenghua Emperor (1465 to 1487) that are worth millions and then there are the other 99.99999% that are almost worthless.

The same can be said of writers (and ramblers) apparently.

Either way, they both need a cup to feel complete.

That’s why I wish the word saucer also meant “somebody that turns things into sauce.” I say this proudly, feet apart, back straight, hands on hips and eyes looking off into the distance.