Seattle University's student newspaper since 1933

The Spectator

Seattle University's student newspaper since 1933

The Spectator

Seattle University's student newspaper since 1933

The Spectator

Thoughts of A Liar

    A namesake is often all one can stand by in this world. So when the pride of a last name, truly a lineage, comes into question it must be defended.

    I come from the lineage of Salsbury. My last name represents ages of a clan in which honor was held in the highest regard. Those who were Salsburys were known to drink and fight, pay the phone bill on time and brush their teeth every night. Needless to say, they were very respectable people.

    As in every family, there is always some tragedy somewhere in the chronology that hinders a family name, and that is why I speak to you.
    The year was 1786. The place was Germany. My quintuple-great-grandfather was just coming back from a Mariner’s game and was distraught over the happenings in the seventh inning when he came across a butcher shop. He ventured inside and asked, not for a slab of meat, but for ground beef. This in itself was a momentous step towards his goal as never before was ground beef used in a dish.

    My quintuple-great-grandfather then strode home, pondering what life. How would he prepare his dish? What was his wife doing during the baseball game? How could he make his name and the name of his descendants legendary?

    Upon arriving home my grand-grand-grand-grand-grand-dad made a loaf with the meat, pressed it down, cooked it up, and invented something
    extraordinary. He named it Salsbury Steak. Little did he know that twas not his name that would be attached to this delightful use of beef, but to another man of similar name: Adolf J. Salisbury.

    Salisbury was an evil man, as well as a fan of the Yankees. He took my five-times-grandfather’s recipe and marketed it before anyone else, snatching the glory and all the Salisbury Steak-fame-train had to offer. Any who, Salsbury steak has led to the invention of the hamburger, meatloaf, meatballs, etc., all without any recognition going to my family and our names being erased from the history books.

    I fight for reparations to be made! I wish for my quintuple-great-grandfather to RIP. I wish for justice for this heinous crime. Never forget: there is no I in Salsbury steak.

    Leave a Comment
    More to Discover
    About the Contributor
    Chris Salsbury, Author

    Comments (0)

    All The Spectator Picks Reader Picks Sort: Newest

    Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *