Due to circumstances out of my control, I will be attending a meal at a friend’s house this weekend where the main course will be hamloaf. To say I’m not excited about this is the understatement of the millennium. I think I’m going to smuggle a sub or pizza in or something.

Anyway, I have received much sympathy for my plight. I have to admit, however, that I have never had hamloaf. My whole disdain for the food comes from a natural reaction to thw rod hamloaf and a traumatic event I experienced in college.

My fraternity had its own cook. We lived in this house, which was far too nice for a bunch of college guys. Anyway, we had a full kitchen at our disposal and were served lunch Monday through Friday and dinner Sunday through Thursday.

One night during my junior year, I came home with a bunch of other guys from lacrosse practice and we went right into the kitchen. Ernie, our cook, told us he had made hamloaf for dinner.

We went right back into Ross’ Bronco II and headed for Burger King. After eating, I changed and headed right up to the library because I had a paper due or a test the next morning.

I studied until probably 10 or 11 before coming back to the house. The place was deserted, which was unusual. This was a Tuesday night or something so people were generally around.

We had about 40 guys living in the house (and another dozen in their own houses or apartments) and only a half-dozen were to be found. It was weird.

Well, at some point, the phone rang and I answered. It was one of the seniors, and I could tell he was in a bar. He told me to immediately come down to Two’s Company, a place we went to ocassionally. Everybody was there, he said. We had taken over the place and I had to get down there.

Oh, I also needed to bring a blank check from the fraternity.

Apparently, everyone else had the same reaction to the thought of hamloaf for dinner that my group did. But the rest of the guys all ended up at Two’s, which didn’t card anyone that night. It was something insane like nickel wing night so they all ate and drank a lot. Someone got the idea of starting a tab and one thing led to another.

I never made it down there as academic responsibility – and the realization that I had missed the real fun – set in. And I don’t remember how they settled up the tab.

But like all great historical moments, you don’t need the facts to appreciate The Great Hamloaf Rebellion. It’s the thought that counts.

By the way, Ernie never made hamloaf again. Thank God.