Assistant Scoutmaster Gordon Greer taught me that making pancakes was neither art nor science, but rather a religious rite.
I was a nervous twelve-year-old. I kept an assortment of phobias in my pockets at all times and I lacked the boisterous bluster that every other adolescent boy seemed to possess. This would all change in a couple of years, in large part because of my experiences with the Boy Scouts of America.
But at twelve, I was on my second campout ever and was faced with the daunting task of making breakfast for the troop. Gordon was the adult supervision that morning. He picked up on my overwhelm and patiently showed me how to operate the rickety, propane camp stove and mix the pancake batter.
Then came the actual making of the pancakes, and one of the most important lessons I’ve ever learned.
As I white-knuckle-gripped the measuring cup I was going to use to pour the batter into the heated and greased pan Gordon said, “Just use a little batter. The first pancake is a sacrifice.”
I poured a small bit of batter, forming an unlikely puddle in the bottom of the pan and Gordon explained what he meant.
“The first pancake will always be…
