urthechange blog

Dear Cheese,

I would like to first and foremost recognize the fact that the following is not meant to be directed at any single cheese, like cheddar, for instance, but is directed at all cheeses. Even though each is so different in it’s own unique way, they are still created equally and each distinctfully stored in a special place in my heart.

Cheese, you have always been there for me. From the time I was a mere toddler and I discovered you melted amongst a plethora of shell-like noodles. Then later, you were found a grand companion to things that had become dull to me, like salad. All the way up until I was lucky to have come across you, brie - how did I survive so long without the knowledge of your existence?

You make so many things that would be considered lack luster by many, and make them incredible works of art. In this great country, I am one of the lucky few to reside in the beautiful land of California. But you, cheese, you’re the “real California”. How do you go about your day knowing that you are compared to such greatness? Under such pressure, my feeble knees would buckle, but you hold your ground.

The way provolone thrives as it’s melted amid grilled chicken, or, when heated, the way swiss becomes one with pastrami; the way brie brings people together at small gatherings, or the way gouda is named gouda; There’s no single place you aren’t accepted. Sporting events, no, you’re there. Extravagant outings, there you are, staking your claim. Galas and the sort, you’re all around us.

What other nutriment is said everytime a photograph is snapped? There are no other provisions being adorned atop ones head in below freezing temperatures, are there? If I happened to be enjoying myself and get carried away, am I not referred to as “cheesy”?

There are some close to me who have strong arguements against you, cheese. But when faced with adversity I look my opposer in the eye and say, “nay, for cheese has always stuck by my side, so, likewise, I will continue to stand by it.”.

Keep on doin’ your thing, cheese.

Love always,

Parker