The text on the TV screen mutated. It whirled elaborately. It metamorphed, blue, gold and spiraly things. When the fantasia cleared, I learned that if I rushed over on Saturday, Saint Casimir's church promised there would be a "covered dish." What do you suppose a "covered dish" is? I got an impression of leftovers camouflaged under Saran wrap. No, they wouldn't be boasting about day-old meat loaf or the diced calf-brains au gratin that little Randolph abjured. It had to be something else. I got the impression of a block of refrigerated lasagna oozing ricotta and hamburger grease into a Tupperware bowl. Maybe it was a platter of soggy spaghetti and meatball sauce crowned with crinkled aluminum foil. Was there, I wondered, an "un-covered dish" or only covered dishes. The dictionary was unavailing. "Covered bridge" was listed. "Covered smut" (don't ask) was listed. Nothing for "covered dish." Maybe Saint Casimir has an innovation. Once there had been only the un-covered dish. Then Saint Casimir or his minions flopped on a top. Transubstantiation! it was a covered dish! I glanced back to the TV. There was no explanation. By then the Freedom Fire Company on Catawiss Street was promising a "roast pig and NASCAR" party. I took that as a bad omen. I saw it as prophecy boding poorly for some obese driver. Clearly, I have grim imaginings. Who, I wondered, was jotting that event on her calendar. That's hard-up! Later the American Hose Company offered and "all-you-can-eat" breakfast for the bargain price of only six bucks. Better than "roast pig." In the perpetual loop, the covered dish didn't reappear. It was like the Twilight Zone. What became of the covered dish? There was midget football, several of them. Was that little people playing kick or big people playing with a diminutive pigskin. Brawny players were certainly not punting field goals with dwarfs. But someplace, Australia, I think, someone had been playing catch with the little guys. I watched and watched. The alluring offer of a covered dish failed to return. I could buy alternators or starters. I could drop in on a gigantic "yard/bake sale." I could have my car washed for $8. But what was the covered dish? I couldn't find a Saint Casimir in the phone book. Had it been a trick of my maudlin mind? I turn to you, learned reader. I appeal for an explanation. In the name of Saint Casimir (if there really was such an esteemed prelate) what is a "covered dish" and why? Tell me, please. Is it a "pot-luck?" a cute coed in a chemise? a television antenna under a dome? You know. Why won't you tell me? Rebecca's Bargain Antiques Collectible Vintage Photos Fine Prints - Old Maps Sheet Music - Old Books Elegant Antiques and Collectibles "Man without enemies is like dog without fleas" Sidney Tolen in Charlie Chan's Murder Cruse, 1940 You are welcome to use or republish any of our material. Please give www.prisoners.com credit as the source. Return to the Works by Prisoner Authors and Others Menu Return to the Main Menu. Go to our site's Search Engine Send us Your Comments or Input.