Mister Toast was born. Since that time, he has eaten approximately 35,000 slices of Buttered Toast and an indeterminate but definitely lesser number of English Muffins, Bagels, and even, God help us, Toaster Waffles and Pop-Tarts, the last two of which he obstinately refuses to discuss, ascribing them to youthful folly. He is the owner of, at last count, sixteen slots of toasting power, including a pre-WWII Knapp-Monarch manual model. Although some of his equipment is currently out on loan, he could at any moment, by calling upon all of his resources, toast up most of a loaf in a single pass. And he’s got the butter to cover the job on hand.
Apart from Toast, there is little of note to say about Mister Toast. That is to say, he's pretty much an ordinary joe who likes toast more than most people do. He does take an active interest in the lively arts, as seen in his involvement in KDHX Community Radio in St. Louis, where he donates his talents to the Arts Calendar, Performing Arts Reviews, and occasional Public Service Announcements. He also has studied three languages besides English as well as psychology, philosophy, and photography; reads about twenty-five books a year; plays guitar and mountain dulcimer; and enjoys camping, though you wouldn’t guess any of the foregoing by looking at him. Mister Toast is fortunate to have a very patient girlfriend, who basically thinks he’s the cat’s pajamas in spite of everything. The cat herself is of an emphatically dissenting opinion, inasmuch as she knows her pajamas when she sees them, and that weird, misshapen cat with the stunted ears and no tail doesn’t look a thing like them.
Mister Toast has virtually never met a photograph of himself he didn't dislike, and consequently avoids being photographed whenever possible. However, this photograph, dating to 1995, will give you some idea how much toast he eats. This is also documented in this more recent image of Mister Toast and Brother Peter settling a 2001 bet over who has the more elegant belly. Brother Peter won, but it's probably only because he's older and has had more time to perfect his toast-eating skills. Mister Toast is on the left, which I mention only because some benighted and extremely undiscriminating persons have voiced the preposterous opinion that Mister Toast and Brother Peter resemble one another in some way that is not perceived by Brother Peter or Mister Toast. Why, prior to Brother Peter's losing his beard in a prenuptual agreement, the two resembled one another no more than any other pair of short middle-aged bearded balding graying dark-eyed white guys of Irish-Scandinavian descent with glasses, elegant bellies, and a shared love of Toast. Now that Brother Peter is clean-shaven, it is hoped that people will stop saying they look alike. Regrettably, there's not much hope that people will stop thinking they sound alike; even their sisters can't tell them apart on the telephone.
