There are two guarantees to making me want to eat pizza. The song “Hey Jude” by the Beatles and the month of December. The first was entirely my Mothers fault. She would haul my brother and I out for Pizza and then proceed to plug the jukebox with quarters pinning this song down for the remainder of the evening playing it over and over again. Her and her friends would sing, sing, sing along and to this day if I hear that song there better be a pizza coming, strike that, there better be a DAMN GOOD pizza coming.
The second was when I worked in a mall at the local Pizza Haven that sold pizza by the slice to all of the hangry (hungry + angry) shoppers lining up around the block to get their pizza on. Everyday, I made an endless stream of pizzas for consumption. Thousands were made and consumed every December thus deeply embedding the Holiday Pizza in my head. I will never be the same and am nowhere near recovery, but I like to think I am trading some if this off. Like this image for instance, I am hoping that in the years to come I am thinking more about raining, cold, foggy mornings rather than delicious, piping hot, fresh out of the over pizzas. Hey Jude. Have yourself a nice little evening.