The meat of the matter

I have been a vegetarian since about 1986. I stopped eating meat for many reasons. Chief among them was that I didn't really like the flavor OR the idea of eating animal flesh. This decision didn't sit well with my family, especially my dad, who still offers me meat to this day.

**********

After work I was talking to my folks. My dad was born in the late 1910's in the Santa Ynez Valley of California. My mom was born 7 years later in Santa Barbara.

My mother said she didn't remember eating meat much as a child. Times were hard. She said they ate a lot of soup, potatoes and beans flavored with a little piece of pork. A chicken was a nice treat for Sunday dinner.

Dad grew up in the country. He, his father, five brothers and cousins hunted and fished, so they ate meat all the time.

He said he remembers leaving the house before dawn, barefoot, taking his shotgun to hunt up some quail or pigeons for the family's meal.

He talked about other times when he would shoot a deer, field-dress it (removing entrails, head and legs) and haul the rest home by himself, which he said was tricky since the deer's skin was loose and he had to carry his rifle, too. (A full-grown deer usually weighs between 120 and 150 lbs).

*********

Hearing their stories made me realize why eating meat is such a big deal to my dad. It isn't just some redneck macho thing. It is a link to his heritage and his feeling of belonging and importance in his family, that he could provide something of real value through his efforts.

Bringing home meat was a man's job, and, for them, a big part of becoming a man - literally "bringing home the bacon."

By becoming a vegetarian, I have cast aside a piece of my history and removed myself from the web of that family tradition. I didn't mean for it to be a hurtful choice, but now I can see how strange it is to my father.

Weekend update

Some newly scanned old family photos up at Flickr. I am having a blast scanning them and looking at them.

*********
I'm a bit worried about the new neighbors.

I met them Saturday out in their front yard and talked to them about their new house. They bought it at auction for $220k, which is good in this neighborhood, since most houses have been selling around here for about $350-$400k.

It is, however, only 400 square feet. Yes, you read right. They said the bank papers call it 690 SF, but they bought it largely sight unseen and that number includes a semi-enclosed back patio.

These houses were built between 1930 and 1940 and were mostly for single oilfield workers or newlyweds - people who could live together in a 20x20 space and not kill each other.

While I was talking, I noticed that the woman, Laurie, had a paint roller at her side. I could have sworn that it was coated with orange paint, but I was so busy talking that I didn't have much time to think about the implications.

When I walked by today, I saw inside. Yes, ever single wall of that 400 square foot dwelling is painted International Hunter Safety Orange.

I am not the most interior designy of people, but this just seems like a baaaaad idea to me.

*********
My friends and I are going to the Fancy Food Show this weekend and I am getting so excited that I feel a little nauseous, which is sort of ironic, no?

It is open to "the trade only," so we are representing a friend's catering supply firm, but to tell the truth, we are really going mostly for the food samples.

The show is amazing. How amazing? Last time I went, I narrowed my sampling down to four items. You really have to, otherwise you will pop like a tick from trying to sample everything. My four items? Chocolate, cheese, coffee and olives. Of course: the four basic Suebobian food groups.

There are like 7000 vendors and the aisles are laid out by country, so you can stoll down the rows of Italian food, French food, Chilean food...oh yeah, it goes on and on, hallways of gourmet fare of every sort.

Last time, by the end of the day I had sampled so much chocolate that I walked by the Godiva booth with a dismissive wave of the hand. They were handing out full-size samples of all the Godiva flavors. I thought "Eeh, who needs it?"

I still remember the best thing I sampled all day: A six-year old cheddar cheese that made my knees buckle and that brought tears to my eyes. No exaggeration.

Ooh, I can hardly wait.


moar funny pictures

Wow.

I guess I struck a nerve with that talk about TV news.

Anyone want to comment on how bad mainstream radio is?

One small change, okay?

Since it is The Month of Resolutions, I want to ask you to consider making one small change that will benefit your life immeasurably.

Quit watching the TV news.

Huh?

Yes, quit that crap. The national news is bad enough, but the local TV news is pure, unadulterated poison that I am surprised that anyone allows into the sanctity of their home.

If you don't believe me, sit down with a stopwatch and a notebook for just one day and time the newscast. How much news do they provide in one half-hour segment?

I estimate it will go something like this:
Commercials 9 minutes
Weather 3 minutes
Mindless chitchat 1 minute
Sports 3 to 5 minutes
Something that looks like a news story but is a carefully crafted press release about a new product or service, probably something medical 3 minutes (you can tell because no newsperson will appear and the subjects will not be identified by title or where they are from)
A car chase or bank robbery 2 minutes
Some celebrity and/or animal story 3 minutes
Blatant fearmongering 3 minutes
Traffic 2 minutes
Actual News 1 minute

Especially do not watch MORNING news (I include the Today show, GMA etc in this group). It is bad enough when you are fully awake and conscious, but when you are just beginning your day, do you really want to pour murder, mayhem, abuse and gossip into your tender mind?

If you can't break your news habit, just do me this one tiny favor: whenever they begin a new segment, ask yourself: Is this news? Why is this news? What do they want me to believe/think/feel?

This all came to me tonight when I was at the folks' house and the news said for the thousandth time: "After the break, a frightening new study..." and I started shouting "Be afraid! Be very afraid! Something is going to kill you! It is DANGEROUS!!"

Question: why do they want you to be so afraid all the time?

Politics as unusual

Barack Hussein Obama. Dang me. I don't know exactly why I burst into tears when I heard he won Iowa, but I did.

Is it that he is biracial?
Is it that he is so damned smart?
Is it that he isn't Hillary?
Is it that he has a wife who is strong and opinionated and not at all run-of-the-mill? (Maybe. Michelle Obama has more conviction in her left ear than Hillary Clinton has, period.)

I know John Edwards would make a great president. Chris Dodd is a fine man, too. Bill Richardson is pretty cool and has a lot of diplomatic experience.

But Obama - he can talk hope. And hope is what I need right now. I just want to curl up and listen to him tell me things can be better.

If the president is largely a figurehead, then give me a figurehead who makes me feel good for a change.

No time to write

But there are a lot of newly scanned photos from Suebobian history up at my Flickr account.

The sets of me and my family crack me up the most, I think. We had some good hairstyles!

Kind of a reverse polar bear

One of my most fun and memorable New Years Days was spent at the Carlen Soulé Memorial Polar Bear Dip in Cayucos, California back in 2001.

Mind you, a Polar Bear Dip in California is not quite as polar as those in the Midwest where you have to chop ice before you plunge. But the water is still a brisk, refreshing temperature, about 54 degrees or so.

Something about running into the cold green sea on the first day of the year with a couple hundred other loonies makes it seem like a real turning point, a time for to wash that old year right out of your hair.

Today I did a slightly different version. I have a shower outside in the back yard that the landlord set up for dog washing after a prior tenant clogged the drain with massive amounts of golden retriever hair.

I was dyeing my hair outside, so I decided to take it to its logical end and rinse outside too.

I thought about putting on my swimsuit but it was still cold and clammy from yesterday's water aerobics class, so I took a nice, fully naykid shower outside.

My yard is set up so that you would have to be an acrobat or at least very, very nosy to see back there - which is good because I would not want any of my neighbors to suffer cardiac arrest on the very first day of the year.

It was a little breezy and I surprised the hell out of Goldie, but it felt like a fun way to begin a new year - doing something I had never done before. And the water was a lot warmer than the Pacific Ocean.