The Flavor of Meat and Other Deep Issues

Is it just me or does this time of year—the beginning of hibernation season—bring forth loads of unanswered questions to ponder throughout the coming cold months?

Why is it that salad needs dressing to make it edible, whereas chocolate needs nothing extra at all? Which reminds me…it’s coming up on Halloween again. Children dressed in store bought costumes, plastic capes flapping in the wind, standing on my doorstep demanding free candy—or else. Now if they were actually children I recognized from the houses around us, it would be different. But when kids are driven to my neighborhood by sugar-deprived adults and told to blanket the area, I feel a bit used.

Have you ever wondered why people that can barely get out of their car and walk, are allowed to drive? Not only that, but they get the prime front spots in the parking lot. There are lots of recent news stories about how texting and talking on your cell phone while driving is more dangerous than driving while intoxicated, but no one ever ventures into the “elderly” scenario. That is obviously a politically incorrect topic. But have they tested whether people eating Big Macs, applying mascara, and flossing their teeth have faster reactions than the 96-year-old woman in the Oldsmobile? I’m pretty sure if they did a test, there would be a lot of people in my area who should no longer be behind the wheel. I’m not against “older” people driving, but if you can’t walk without a walker or a mobility scooter, you have no business operating a vehicle, anymore than a teenager with a cell phone glued to his head. Your reaction time is close to zero. That is just the reality of aging. So, if I reach a certain age and still think I have Mario Andrette skills, just take away my keys. I wouldn’t want someone’s death on my conscience.

After watching recent news, and because I’m a believer in equal opportunity, (blast the old, now I must blast the young) I also wonder: Why would anyone think that college age “adults” are capable of voting intelligently? I’m sure there are some of you out there who know things other than the name of your favorite band or quotes from “The Office,” but apparently they didn’t find any of you at the universities where they asked, “What is the name of our Vice President? How many United States Senators are there? Who is the Speaker of the House? Not trick questions like, “How many senators does it take to screw in an eco-friendly light bulb?” but fairly simple ones. None of these higher learning individuals could come up with the answers even after two or three guesses. But then I doubt whether politicians care if young people are educated on the issues or even American history, as long as they vote the party line they’ve been indoctrinated in. Apparently, young men overwhelmingly look to Jon Stewart as a trustworthy fount of information. I suppose the young women are waiting for Lady GaGa to spout something profound as well.

Have you ever wondered why the Turkey is the only bird used as a substitute for all other meats? Those poor dumb birds, shot, decapitated, stripped of their feathers, gutted of their innards, and sealed up with plastic handcuffs holding their legs together as though they might jump out of the freezer section and run away at any moment, are never given the respect they deserve. And often they don’t even get the decency of being eaten as a turkey. They are advertised as turkey burger, turkey ham, turkey bacon, as though just being a turkey isn’t good enough. They have to be flavored like a pig or a cow or maybe even a hotdog (whatever kind of meat that is). It’s just wrong.

Speaking of edible birds, why are strips of chicken, battered and deep-fried, called “fingers?” And why did someone decide to rename chicken wings served up with strangely sour hot sauce—buffalo wings? Sounds like identity crisis is going around the fowl world.

Commercials portray us as obsessed, unable to break free of our phones, as though we’re addicts of technology. A man in China recently took that addiction for his phone farther than I would dare go. He refused to be parted from it even when it flushed. He reached down that little hole and around the bend of the ceramic tank like Gumby and held on until someone called the Chinese equivalent of 911 to break him out of his predicament. When it was all said and done, chunks of broken ceramic toilet bowl all around, he was still gleefully holding on to his phone.

I won’t even ask why “Survivor” keeps getting renewed for another season. That is a profound question for another time.