Nostalgia

After a long drive back to my old stomping grounds (San Jose), I was nothing short of famished, and nothing felt like it would hit the spot more than a McRib. As the distance separating me from my destination shrank, the cravings grew stronger. It almost felt like there was a voice in my head telling me that I had to buy one, but that may have just been the commercials that kept coming over the radio. Neither the packed parking lot at the local McDonald's nor the fact that I would be eating alone could stop me. Even the lack of a drive-through wasn't enough. So, I pulled in, walked straight to the register and didn't even have to look up at the menu before telling the cashier that I just had to have a McRib meal. Even though it couldn't have been more than a couple minutes, the wait for that meal felt intense. The anticipation was building. Once I received the meal, I grabbed some ketchup, sat down, snapped a quick picture (that felt weird), and within minutes, the tray was bare, except for some dirty cardboard and destroyed ketchup containers. My hypothesis was correct. That definitely hit the spot.

Let me give the uninformed an abridged history lesson. The McRib was introduced in the early eighties, but was already destined to be removed from restaurants in the mid eighties. In the mid nineties, it was brought back. In 2005, McDonald's announced it would be removed for good and hosted it's first farewell tour for the sandwich. In 2006, they brought it back for a second farewell tour, and they have repeated that process (for about six weeks each time) each year since. As of right now, it is available (probably until mid December).

Now, I'm definitely not one to claim that the McRib is anything approaching fine dining, but there is something about it that makes me feel a little warm inside. I wouldn't make it my last meal, but every time McDonald's announces another limited-time offering of the McRib, I make sure to get one. It's probably the marketing, but McDonald's definitely has me getting the feeling that I'm hosting my own little homage to my younger years, bringing back memories of the past. It's like a throwback jersey. It makes us think about our past, and, as we all have a tendency to reminisce in a positive light, it's typically a pleasant experience. So, what better throwback to my past than to go to the local McDonald's I used to frequent far too often, on my drive back home for Thanksgiving, to spend the weekend in the home I spent so many years in, swapping stories with my loving family, and order a simple McRib with a side of fries. It felt like my own little "welcome home" celebration. Now, that's nostalgia.