By Monday of this week it would have been easy to feel “holidayed-out.” By that I mean we spent at least two or three days getting ready for our Independence Day celebration, then there was Sunday and, by Monday, it could have been back to the salt mine.

Imagine my great surprise when I read and heard on television that there was another holiday for Monday. It is a part of the federal register of holidays so I’m not just making this up. July 6 was National Fried Chicken Day. Why, it’s enough to warm the cockles of any true Southerner and this preacher in particular!

How National Fried Chicken Day skipped my mind I’ll never know. Fried Chicken 101 is an integral part of any preacher’s basic education.

I can remember, quite vividly, the Placement Test that I had to take upon the call into the ministry. I did pretty well on the Biblical portions but one multiple choice question in the Fellowship section stumped me.

The question was: “You are at the front of the covered dish buffet at Homecoming and you can only have one dish. Which do you choose? (A) Chocolate cake, (B) Banana pudding, (C) Fried Chicken, (D) Surprise, there is no ‘all of the above’.”

I left the question blank which caused much consternation for the Committee to Choose Preachers (CCP). The CCP called me in and laid down the Law of Dietary Propriety for Preachers.

“Son, we’re going to approve you, but you’ll be a Probationary Member until you learn to revere the holy bird.”

I replied, “Thanks, I’ll never forget your kindness. Where is the closest KFC?” I had a three-piece dinner to celebrate.

Monday morning, after I was reminded of the high and holy day of National Fried Chicken Day, I re-read my copy of Colonel Sanders’ History of Fried Chicken. It is placed right next to the Bible. I learned that this delectable dish had been brought to the United States by the Scots. They liked to fry their chickens in lard.

In addition to my wake-up coffee Monday morning, I heated up a spoonful of canned Crisco and slurped it down. It was the closest I could get to a spoonful of lard. Please don’t tell the Federal Drug Administration. They will hold me down and make me drink a diet soda!

Even though I probably do eat a little too much fried chicken, like maybe 5 times a week, I think I’m doing alright. After all, I have been eating it all my life. It ranks right up there with chili dogs as one of my favorite entrees. I have a very sophisticated palate.

Some people may think that having a holiday named for fried chicken is silly, but our annual calendar is full of crazy holidays. For instance, today (Tuesday) as I write this column, it’s National Macaroni Day. I don’t know if cheese is included.

Plus, National Fried Chicken Day was not exclusively for fried chicken. It also was the day chosen for International Kissing Day. I kid you not. That gets my mind to rambling.

Let’s see, if we combine greasy, finger-lickin’ National Fried Chicken Day with International Kissing Day and it all comes right after we have celebrated American freedom and the Fourth of July, imagine the possibilities.

I know. We can kill two birds with one stone, as they say. We can plant a big, sloppy kiss on a greasy drumstick! Then, eat it.