Peole call me Rye; and Rye is a cereal. At least my life-long identity crisis has been answered simply by a grass-grown grain. I am not alone, since barley and wheat are my cousins. I also happen to be useful. According to Wikipedia (copied verbatim; hence plagiarism) "Rye grain is used for flour, rye bread, rye beer, some whiskies, some vodkas, and animal fodder. It can also be eaten whole, either as boiled rye berries, or by being rolled, similar to rolled oats."
So I guess you now know who I really am. If the title seems familiar, well I got it from the title of A.J. Salinger's book (plagairims again).
The book is about a youth who was afraid of adolescence. He was expelled, bullied, beaten and finally was taken to a mental institution. His mission in the book was to catch children falling from the rye baseball field; thus the title of the story.
So I guess I should be thankful that people call me Rye. Wait till my friend Phallus (Aris) hears about this one.
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