rogue |rōg|

noun
1 a dishonest or unprincipled man : you are a rogue and an embezzler.
• a person whose behavior one disapproves of but who is nonetheless likable or attractive (often used as a playful term of reproof) : Cenzo, you old rogue!
2 [usu. as adj. ] an elephant or other large wild animal driven away or living apart from the herd and having savage or destructive tendencies : a rogue elephant.

• a person or thing that behaves in an aberrant, faulty, or unpredictable way

No, I’m not talking about Sarah Palin’s new book. I’m talking about not being afraid to do something different than it’s traditionally been done. Going rogue is typically thought of as a bad thing…but it doesn’t have to be.

Take this poem, The Calf Path by Sam Walter Foss, for example:

One day, through the primeval wood,
A calf walked home, as good calves should;
But made a trail all bent askew,
A crooked trail, as all calves do.

Since then three hundred years have fled,
And, I infer, the calf is dead.
But still he left behind his trail,
And thereby hangs my moral tale.

The trail was taken up next day
By a lone dog that passed that way;
And then a wise bellwether sheep
Pursued the trail o’er vale and steep,
And drew the flock behind him, too,
As good bellwethers always do.

And from that day, o’er hill and glade,
Through those old woods a path was made,
And many men wound in and out,
And dodged and turned and bent about,
And uttered words of righteous wrath
Because ’twas such a crooked path;
But still they followed — do not laugh —
The first migrations of that calf,
And through this winding wood-way stalked
Because he wobbled when he walked.

This forest path became a lane,
That bent, and turned, and turned again.
This crooked lane became a road,
Where many a poor horse with his load
Toiled on beneath the burning sun,
And traveled some three miles in one.
And thus a century and a half
They trod the footsteps of that calf.

The years passed on in swiftness fleet.
The road became a village street,
And this, before men were aware,
A city’s crowded thoroughfare,
And soon the central street was this
Of a renowned metropolis;
And men two centuries and a half
Trod in the footsteps of that calf.

Each day a hundred thousand rout
Followed that zigzag calf about,
And o’er his crooked journey went
The traffic of a continent.
A hundred thousand men were led
By one calf near three centuries dead.
They follow still his crooked way,
And lose one hundred years a day,
For thus such reverence is lent
To well-established precedent.

A moral lesson this might teach
Were I ordained and called to preach;
For men are prone to go it blind
Along the calf-paths of the mind,
And work away from sun to sun
To do what other men have done.
They follow in the beaten track,
And out and in, and forth and back,
And still their devious course pursue,
To keep the path that others do.

They keep the path a sacred groove,
Along which all their lives they move;
But how the wise old wood-gods laugh,
Who saw the first primeval calf!
Ah, many things this tale might teach —
But I am not ordained to preach.

Or take these Turkey legs for example:

Tradition would have none of it. Tradition would say that you’ve got to bake a 30lb yard bird at 700 degrees for 9 hours, or just long enough to create a Turkey-shaped sawdust formation that no one really wants to eat except as a vehicle for Grandma’s homemade gravy.

Maybe you’re good at roasting a Turkey. Few are, and to those who are successful – I applaud you.

Some of you suck at roasting whole Turkeys. You just stink at it. It’s time to admit it and veer off the calf path into the land of deliciousness. Roast Turkey Legs instead.

* Rub them down with herbs, spices, and olive oil
* Sear them on all sides for a minute or two to create a nice crust
* Fill roasting pan with a few cups of Chicken stock, a couple of sticks of Butter, and herbs/spices
* Roast Turkey Legs in the oven @ 350 degrees for 1 and a half to 2 hours
* Experience Turkey Bliss…Viking-Style

Almost everyone wants the legs anyways, but for the white meat snobs you can add in a few Turkey breasts. Separate legs and breasts are available at almost all grocery stores this time of year.

Stop bowing down to tradition. It’s harmful to your creative health.