Tomatoes, Weiners, and Horses: Three Lessons

Over and over, the crow cries, uncover the cornfield.

- Cabinessense: Brian Wilson & Van Dyke Parks

Here are three lessons to be learned from stories in real life and the news.

Lesson #1: Rotten Tomatoes
I live in a big city, on a main street that leads to the 'centre' of town. There are currently 3 supermarkets within an eighth of a mile radius from my apartment. Yesterday, I went into the closest one, the one in which I usually prefer NOT to go to. It's small, the cashiers don't smile, and the store's inventory is more suited for senior citizens. Well yesterday, only because it's across the street from me, I popped in quickly because we were out of milk. When I was checking out, one of the usually sour-puss cashiers offered me a package of cherry tomatoes … for free!

I was impressed, to say the least. I said thanks and left. When I got home, I mentioned to my 'significant other' the amazing circumstance that had transpired. Now she likes cherry tomatoes and so I wanted to show her this wonderful bounty that had fallen to me. She also was surprised I had got them for free. I joked, “yeah, they're probably from Spain or Germany and teeming with that new strain of E. Coli”. I laughed. She laughed. Then I looked at the label; it read “product of Spain”.

Lesson to be learned: Never look a gift horse in the mouth, unless it has Mad Cow Disease, or has brought you produce from Germany or Spain.

Lesson #2: Sarah Palin Rides Again
Sarah Palin, gun nut and potential candidate for the President of the 'United Stated of Central America' was in the news again this week. In case you haven't heard, she mangled the story of Paul Revere and his ride to Lexington, Massachusetts, to warn Samuel Adams and John Hancock that British troops were marching to arrest them. Most first graders know the story. You like to assume that most presidential hopefuls do, too.

During a visit to Paul Revere's house she was asked about his famous ride. She replied with that 'deer caught in the headlight' meets Miss South Carolina meets 'we're not in Kansas anymore' look and then offered that Paul Revere “warned the British that they weren't going to be taking away our arms, by ringing those bells and making sure as he was riding his horse through town to send those warning shots and bells that we were going to be secure and we were going to be free.”

So Paul Revere warned the British, huh? He stood up to those Red Coats by ringing bells and firing warning shots telling them something like “you ain't gonna git my guns, you media lovin' liberals!”. I'm fairly certain if Sarah Palin's revisionist version of history was correct, the British would have shot him on the spot claiming 'What a silly sod'.

In a related episode, Wikipedia's page in Paul Revere was so inundated with Palin supporters trying to change history in her defense, it was locked. And, a day later or so, Sarah was asked on a TV talk show if she realized that she had screwed the pooch in her comments on Paul Revere? She attempted to re-revise her revisionist account, but also basically said the media was out to get her by cornering her with a “gotcha” question.

Lesson to be learned: When in doubt, some questions are better left unanswered, even if a 6-year old can answer them.

Lesson #3: Weinergate
Anthony David 'Weiner', U.S. Representative for New York's 9th congressional district, screwed his own pooch, and possibly his web-cam, by first denying and then admitting having sent sexually explicit photographs of himself to several women on Twitter. One of the photos, sent via yfrog, was of his erect sex-related 'namesake' bulging in his boxer shorts.

At first, he lied straight-faced to the media and blamed unspecified 'hackers' for the photo. I doubt he was referring to 'Lulz Security', the infamous hacker group that has been in the news lately for their raucous attacks on Sony, and whose logo is 'the Lulz Boat' (ala TV's Love Boat). I don't know, maybe he was thinking about his 'mast' and made the connection in his mind. Anyway, you can imagine that since the public leak, his Jim Beam must surely be flying at 'half mast'.

Lesson to be learned: If you're going to keep your family name 'Weiner', make sure your son's not a dick, or a politician.

Bonus Math Lesson:
And by the way, after reading lessons two and three above, I'm sure most anyone can understand who the rotten tomatoes from lesson one should be thrown at.
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PS. Thanks for reading! Do you think Anthony Weiner should give up his seat in the Senate, or is it probably a better idea for him to stay seated until the swelling goes down?

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Put The Pork Down! Step Away From The Table!

Born In The USA ?

"My doctor told me to stop having intimate dinners for four unless there are three other people!" - Orson Welles

Seeing as a new strain of  Escherichia Coli is spreading across Europe, I thought the timing was ripe for me to focus on all matters gastronomical. Don't let the technical term for e. coli scare you, it's still the same old bacteria that might be swarming over your 'gherkin' - um, that's German for cucumber, and of course it's those German cukes you do want to be careful of. Know what I mean? I think you do!

Anyway, recently I read an article in USA Today excusing the fact that Americans are rotund, overweight, fat, tubby and obese. No, terms like 'pleasantly' or 'deliciously' plump did not spring to mind, nor did the culturally insignificant 'zaftig'. I was amazed at how wishy washy and namby pamby the exoneration was for us Americans who readily squirt Ready Whip and Cheez Whiz down our gullets. Perhaps the author intended to inspire sympathy for a nation of genetically challenged porkers. I'm not sure, but let's be honest here, I'm an American, ipso facto I've been conditioned to consume ad nauseum. I'm fat, and it's not because of my DNA. It's because I open my mouth and act like a Hoover vacuum cleaner whenever I'm at the table, in front of the fridge, and at every convenience store I chance to pass.

Yes, I love to (in alphabetical order) banquet, chow down, devour, digest, dine, eat, feast upon, gobble up, gorge, gormandize, lunch, make a pig of myself, munch, nibble, nosh, partake there of, peck, pick, pig out, polish off my plate, pork out, scarf and scoff, snack, swallow whole, and wolf down anything edible. I draw the line at grazing, however, as I'm not an animal!

I attack my plate with gusto and revel in my cultural heritage (burp). It's amazing that my jaws haven't burned out from years of overuse. When asked the philosophical question "do we live to eat or eat to live", I am most likely to respond with my mouth full. I exude gastronomic hedonism, but not in a hell-bent way ala' the late Marlon Brando.

Now, I know that I'm not alone in saying that for us gluttons there is a double whammy; we really do enjoy our food (read: eating, cooking) and we also abuse it as a source of comfort to us in time of stress. We worry and so we eat. We're nervous and so we eat. We're upset because we eat so much ... and so we eat some more. Heapings of mashed potatoes topped with dollops of gravy, fried chicken dipped in BBQ sauce with a side of spare ribs, pizza with all the toppings and some garlic bread, ... and then there's lunch and dinner.

Suffice it to say that it's hard losing weight. It's even harder not gaining weight! Adding insult to injury, the United States Department of Agriculture (USDA) recently unveiled their new logo to replace the old food pyramid. They replaced it with a plate of food. Are they kidding? Don't they understand that if they show us a plate of food, there will be mass salivating of biblical proportions? So much so that the flow of drool will make the recent flooding in Missouri look like a babbling brook.

Given that we Americans are addicted to our food, one might wonder why it's the USDA involved in promoting nutrition and not the the Food & Drug Administration (FDA). After all, isn't one of the missions of the USDA to support food producers and promote their products? The answer is obvious: more brainwashing compliments of the powers that be. Make people hungry and watch the sales tax flow like ... well like the aforementioned drool. If you ask me, this smacks more of the domain of the Department of Homeland Security, whose mission it is to "ensure a homeland that is safe, secure, and resilient against terrorism and other hazards". In terms of 'hazard', it's a no brainer that all the junk food, fast food and comfort food we shove down our throats is killing us!

I don't smoke. I don't drink (well, at least not to excess). I don't snort anything besides my own snot. But I eat. It's a sickness. But what bothers me is how others are profiting from my misery, and all in the name of good ole American free enterprise. Fast food has become synonmous with the USA. It's as American as blue jeans, baseball and apple pie (which technically also qualifies as junk food). At some point, we the porkers of the United States of America need to stand up and shout "no thanks!" to McDonalds, Burger King, Wendys, and Taco Bell. No thanks, we don't want your poison. We need to tell 'the Colonel' we don't want his three-boobed, six legged Kentucky Fried Chickens ... though a few spare 'Hot Wings' can't hurt, right?

We need to stop terrorizing our bodies and nuture our health and minds, not our guts. We need to stop supporting pharmaceutical manafacturers who hawk their bottles of antacids and Pepto Bismol to us in the name of gastronomic distress relief, and who also produce toxic food additives that prevent us from feeling full and keep us coming back for more.

Lastly, we need to tell Uncle Sam that he needs to start taking care of his own, and not 'big business' lobbyists with appetites only for our disposable income. If the USDA really wanted to help, they'd plaster the following words across their fangled and newly minted plate: "Put the pork down! Step away from the table!"

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PS. Thanks for reading. It's been said that more die in the United States of too much food than of too little (John Kenneth Galbraith). Do you agree or would you rather I get back to you after dinner? Either way, let me know (burp).

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