Kim and I used to host a chili and fudge party in our old house.


Way before we ever met I worked in urban contemporary radio under the name of Fudge.

For the record, I didn’t come up with that name, but I embraced it and worked at WDMT for many years and then briefly at WZAK under that name.

I always volunteered to work on Christmas Eve and Christmas so that co-workers who celebrated those holidays could spend it with their families.

My tradition was to make a whole bunch of different flavors of fudge, box it up, and deliver it to friends and family so that it was on their doorstep when they got up on Christmas day.

I kept the tradition when I went to work at WMJI and later the Wave, even though I was working under my own name by then.

When Kim and I got married, that tradition had to end.

We started going to our dentist’s house for a Christmas Eve seven fish dinner and we spent Christmas Day at her parents’ house for Christmas dinner.

We decided to have friends and family over for a party but figured you can’t just serve fudge. That’s when we decided to host our chili and fudge party.

The week ahead I’d make batches of fudge and gallons of chili. On the night of the party we’d keep a crockpot filled with chili and surround it with bowls filled with various fixings.

We’d have trays of fudge set out. Most people would be too full from the chili so they’d take the fudge in the to-go boxes we’d set out.

Whenever people come over for a meal, I encourage them to bring containers to take left-overs home with them.

This year Maggie and I decided to host a chili party for game one of the World Series.

The five people that joined us had come to the chili and fudge parties years before. I’ve known two of them twenty-some years, two of them thirty-some years and one of them more than fifty years. I averaged the time I’d known them (I know, of course I did) and came up with 36.6 years.

We put the chili down on spaghetti and topped it with onion, peppers, cheese, sour cream, and oyster crackers.

The only thing missing was Kim.

I was surrounded by people who had known me longer than I knew Kim. Only two (and one of them was Maggie) had known me for less than the twenty-four years I knew Kim.

We ate chili and watched the game.

A room full of Indians fans who remembered the trips to the World Series in the 90’s. A room full of fans who remembered plays and players from decades before that.

One of them was at my bachelor party twenty-three years ago. The bachelor party was an Indians game at the old stadium. It was a day game. A beautiful day. Twenty of us walked up on the day of the game and got seats behind home.

The Indians won that game and these Indians won  game one of the World Series.

So many memories between that day and this.

Tonight Perez had a great day behind the plate and at bat. I love when someone unexpected steps up to win the game.

All in all this was a fun chili party.

I packed up the leftover chili in to-go containers and sent it home with our friends.

Great food. Great company. Great game.

The only thing missing was Kim.

Well Kim and five flavors of fudge.



Published in: on October 26, 2016 at 9:15 pm  Leave a Comment  

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