Bread stink instinct!

I wonder who the big bag of gas was that came up with the idea that money should be referred to as ‘Bread’! It wasn’t any of my corny ilk since when you live under a troll toll bridge, there are too few opportunities to make cash except from recycling cans, and overnight reclamation of the neighbor’s copper plumbing. The only REAL bread that I ever see and retrieve on a daily basis is those charity crumbs that the pigeons and furry vermin choose to leave behind.

Who really associates cold hard cash with a yeasty smell, flour, warm water, and a pinch of salt anyway? Isn’t all that stuff more akin to the luxuries of prison life rather than the genuine glow of wealth and prosperity? On second thought, I forgot that I usually have to take out a loan to purchase any of those ‘artisan’ bakery loaves offered at every overpriced organic snobby suburban market’. Gee, if Americans aspire to acquire so much ‘bread’ in their daily lives, I am curious what other kinds of dough the rest of the world rolls in and informally calls their currency?

I guess the English probably would name their scratch, ‘Muffins’, though if you pile them high enough they will most certainly add up to a few POUNDS on their buns. The Israelis might shuck their shekels in favor of the more valuable and ‘hole-ier’ Bagels, and the poor Italians end up with those throwaway triangle 'crust-backs' bonded to the bottom of greasy pizza boxes. What do you call those things anyway – maybe ‘I-SAUCE-n’-cheese’ is a good fit that will STICK?

Hmmm, come to think of it, except when I’m ‘Puttin’ on the Ritz’, I guess  savory ‘bread’ is a better money metaphor than any flaky biscuit or cracker will ever be. After all I would much rather be a hard n’ crusty ‘breadwinner’ instead of just any ol’ oaf sitting on his soft-sofa loaf! Regardless, instinctively I have learned to keep my opinions and SOURdough personality to myself, because when too much of my hot air escapes rapidly in public, people have a tendency of LEAVENING me alone.