That's not a bad thing. If I'm dead, I'd imagine that I'd care very little about my family line continuing. However, as I near death, it would be nice to have some kids visit me in the nursing home... but to speak frankly, people with my lifestyle don't make it to the nursing home very often. My present retirement plan is "suffer a heart attack at the desk."
That legacy thing does chew at me some, though. It's not even a physical thing. There is nothing in my life that makes me think that the world would be a lesser place without my DNA running around. I don't really matter that much, and I kind of like it that way.
What I need to do to silence the desire for a Legacy is think of some way that people will be forced to remember me after I'm gone. I know that sentence sounds like something you'd write before you went to slaughter everyone at the high school, but I mean it in a far more positive manner.
I want to make an improvement to the world, a permanent change that will benefit people long after I'm gone. I'm not smart enough to cure Ebola, not charismatic enough to become a great President, and not rich enough to build a hospital or something. As I size this task up, I think that my chief positive trait is that I know my limitations.
That said, I have a few ideas that wouldn't be that hard to do, and which would make people happy long after I'm gone. I'll even share them out for free, because I'm good like that. We'll hit you off with several over the next few days. We'll start in you local deli.
THE IRISH SUBMARINE SANDWICH
This idea has been kicking around in my head for decades. I just can't cook worth a damn (I once went over 2 years without preparing my own food, instead relying on take-out and girlfriends who like to cook), so me opening a sub shop to force this change on the world would be a fool's errand.
Go to any sub shop, deli, or what have you. Check the menu. Every sub shop or House Of Pizza that is worth a damn has an Italian sub on the menu, often as the leadoff hitter. This iconic sandwich is some combination of salami, mortadella, prosciutto, bologna (I'm working off Word with no Internet connection, so forgive me if I get the Dago words wrong, I mean no disrespect), cheese, oil, and vegetables. I'd be amazed if you have made it this far in life without having tangled with Old Man Italy at some point.
Most places will also have an American sandwich, which I never actually order, but I assume is some form of ham, bologna and whatever. You may also have the French Dip, which is roast beef au jus. Locally, you may get a Portagee, which is a linguica/onion/pepper beauty that is often incorrectly marketed as a Fenway sausage sandwich.
What about the Irish?
Granted, I am a product of the Irish Riviera. I may see the world through a green shade. However, there are a lot of Irish in America, especially up here in Cranberry County. The Irish Riviera would actually be the northeastern border of Cranberry County, which in reality exists only in these pages.
There may be great truths to running a sub shop which don't make themselves apparent to me, but I would never miss the chance to appeal to a large % of my potential customers. I would also not pass up what seems to be a pretty good chance to have my deli be known forever as the birthplace of the Irish Sandwich. Trust me, you can trace down the exact places where Buffalo Wings, French Dip sandwiches, and New England Clam Chowder were invented, and being the birthplace of something iconic has always been good for business.
So, what would be in an Irish Sandwich?
It is very tempting to say "corned beef," but there are two problems with that. One, corned beef isn't a very good sandwich meat. You order almost everything else on the menu before you get to corned beef, and many people only think of eating it on St. Patrick's Day. You need something tastier than that if you want it on the menu everywhere in America.
Two, corned beef isn't Irish food. People from actual Ireland only have to go back a few generations to find a potato famine victim, and those people (and their often destitute descendants) couldn't afford beef. While Ireland produced lots of corned ("corn" = salt grains) beef, they consumed very little of it.
Corned beef became associated with the Irish who came to America, because it was often the cheapest thing on the menu for the poor bogtrotters. In Ireland, corned beef production took the best farmland for beef pasture, forcing the Irish into 100% reliance on the potato. This killed them by the millions when a potato blight hit Ireland. Therefore, the actual Irish who know their history view corned beef with disdain, and that's before you factor in corned beef's heavy involvement in the Irish-wage-killing Atlantic slave trade. In fact, most Irish had their first taste of corned beef while fighting the American Civil War, where shoddy, maggotty "salt pork" left a rotten taste in their memories.
Only bacon can save this sandwich.
While bacon isn't associated with the Irish, it is a popular item and is very much disresspected on the menus. Beyond the BLT, it is basically just a section of a club sandwich. Let's show bacon the love that it deserves and make it the centerpiece of the Irish Sandwich.
We'd also need cheese, and I would go with "cheddar" for no other reason than it is a funny word to hear Irish Riviera people say. If it can be done (and I have no idea), the cheese should be soaked in a beer bath overnight.
Pickles would have to be involved, as the oft-pickled Irish are veterans of many a well-fought bottle. Pickles also add necessary Green to the sandwich. I'd throw in onions, because onions make everything better. I'd say Yes on tomato, but No on lettuce. You don't want a redesigned BLT, and "lettuce" to an Irishman is what the priest says before "pray."
The sandwich needs potatoes, but french fries don't belong IN the sub. Why not potato chips? A sandwich made of beer-cheese and 10 slices of bacon is already trying to kill you, so why not add potato chips?
Since "Mayo" is an Irish name, we have to coat this monster with mayonnaise. Again, you left your diet at the door once you even pondered trying an Irish Sandwich, so you may as well try to equal the daily caloric intake of an IRA cell.
There we have it. The Irish Sandwich. Almost immediately upon her introduction to the menus of sub shops everywhere, the Irish Sandwich will take over. It will instantly become the most popular sandwich on the menu, and will maintain that spot once the novelty wears off. The popularity will be such that it may spell the end for some less popular sandwich on the menu, like Liverwurst.
I'd love to have had a hand in inventing the Irish Sandwich, and would be pleased to have that as my legacy. Come sit by my grave after I'm gone and eat an Irish Sandwich in my memory... although I may reach up through the ground like that witch at the end of Carrie and try to grab that sucker from you.
You have been warned.
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