What I Didn't Have for Supper Last Night

When I started this blog, my aim was to update it once a month with something similar to what might appear in a newspaper column, if I had one. What I vowed not to do was blab about the boring details of what I had for supper last night, as so many bloggers seem to do. (Geez, I never knew that even FAMOUS people in whom I'm reasonably interested could be so mundane.) However, December is slipping by and I haven't been struck with a great literary inspiration, so I'm afraid we'll just have to make do.

So, umm... guess what? If my mother reads this, she'll drop dead on the spot, but it seems I have become a vegetarian.

Over the last several years, I have enjoyed meat less and less. Granted I've gobbled many a delicious entree... a steak from Ruth's Chris Steakhouse springs to mind especially... but any form of fast food was grossing me out. Hamburgers? Yuck. My formerly beloved Chik-Fil-A sandwiches? Long since deserted. The last time I ordered a roast beef sandwich from Subway, I wound up removing the roast beef because it just looked too shiny, the way meat does when it's been in the fridge too long. In short, I was constantly so worried about meat containing streaks of fat, gristle or other undesirable components, or I was afraid it had been handled in some way that rendered it unfit to eat, that I basically had to choke it down it real fast before I had time to think about it much.

Now that's stupid.

Luckily, in Target one night I just happened to flip through the pages of a book entitled Skinny Bitch, by Kim Barnouin and Rory Freedman. (check out www.skinnybitch.net) I'm sure that on any of a thousand days in my past I would have opened the book, caught the general idea of it, and scoffed, "Ha! Not for me." But somehow, the information imparted in this book came to me at just the moment I was ready to hear it.

If I thought I had been grossed out by finding fat or gristle in my meat, I believe I have now been sufficiently revolted by what happens to even a "good" piece of meat before it reaches my plate to swear it off for life. I have never been a bleeding- heart type of person, about animal rights or anything else. My previous opinion would have been along the lines of, "What else does a cow have to do with its life besides make my milk or become my steak?" It ain't like a cow is going to run for President. However, if I had taken much time to really examine this vague notion, I would have realized I assumed that they and other farm animals and fowl were at least living a reasonably happy life, cared for by dear old Farmer Brown, until that day came.

I have learned that this is FAR from the truth. Turns out, they generally live torturous lives in sort of concentration-camp conditions (except that instead of being starved, they're given growth hormones and overfed until sometimes their under-muscled, non-exercised legs won't even support them). Some animals never take a breath of fresh air or feel grass under their feet in their whole miserable lives. And if you still don't care about animals' FEELINGS, then consider this: under those conditions, animals are nasty, and they are sick. We've all heard about antibiotics in meat--now why do you suppose animals are given antibiotics? Hmm, well when do YOU take antibiotics? They are given antibiotics to keep them ALIVE long enough to slaughter them. Yum, yum--eat up, y'all. And if you think conditions are disappointing at Old McDonald's Farm, you oughta do a little research into how the fine professionals at the slaughterhouse are handling your future meal. Linda McCartney is credited with saying, "If slaughterhouses had glass walls, we'd all be vegetarians." I now agree. Of course, nobody thinks the process of slaughtering animals is pretty, but I suppose we all hope it's halfway sanitary. Well, think again.

I could go on and give you many more graphic examples, but I suggest you read the book, or for a shorter and equally convincing introduction to this topic, go to www.goveg.org and watch a shocking video entitled "Meet Your Meat." You may find it life-changing.

All Right, People. Listen Up.

There are some words you are all mispronouncing, and I frankly cannot live another day without straightening you out.

Evidently I am the only creature on God's green earth who can pronounce the word FAMILIAR.It is FAH-miliar, not FUR-miliar. Think about it--who looks more familiar than anybody else? Your damn family, of course. FAMILY-AR, get it? It's got nothing to do with FUR, unless you were raised by cats or something.

Next on my list is RIDICULOUS. It is RID-iculous, as in, "You are so ridiculous I must get RID of you." The word is not RE-diculous, as in "Please RE-read the dictionary because I am afraid you are RE-tarded."

Weathermen take note of this news flash: the word TEMPERATURE has TWO R's in it! It's temp-RA-ture, not temp-A-ture.

Similarly, Tom Shane please be advised that although you have marred the best years of my life with your boring jewelry commercials, you are mispronouncing the word jewelry. Stop calling it JEWL-A-RY. No A between the L and the R, see?

People please, oh please, stop saying SUPPOSABLY. The word is SUPPOS-ED-LY, and don't even kid yourself that you're getting away with saying it wrong. It's not that nobody notices or minds that you're mangling the word. It's just that we thought you were fairly bright until you said that, and now our disappointment in your intellect or the lack thereof has rendered us temporarily mute.

This is a usage, rather than a pronounciation, but I would like to surprise every redneck in Georgia by announcing that a LICENSE is an IT and not a THEM. Do not say, "I lost my license but I can git 'em renewed later." You can get IT renewed; it's just ONE license. I know that "s" sound at the end confuses y'all, but if you're smart enough to drive a car, you ought to be able to master this little concept. (Note: if what you have is a hunting license, feel free to go ahead and call it a "them." Your friends aren't going to notice.)

Please be advised that the phrase A LOT consists of two separate words. Do not write "alot," as in, "I don't read alot."

I feel very sad for the poor word TOO. Everybody seems to understand what TWO means. And everybody uses TO when numbers are not involved. But the poor, unloved word TOO gets left by the wayside. Folks, that's the one we use when we mean ALSO. As in, "I'm glad you don't read a lot 'cause I'm ignorant TOO."

And finally--now that we're onto spelling--the granddaddy of them all. Apparently a whole lot of people were absent from second grade on the day they taught us the difference between YOUR and YOU'RE. And it's so simple; look at the handy little apostrophe (that's the little thingy between the U and the R) that fills in for the left-out A. YOU ARE, get it? And it does matter--I swear it does--unless you just don't mind being considered dumber than a second-grader. See, YOUR is the possessive--as in, "You neglected YOUR education."

By now you're probably thinking, "YOUR a boring snob." And I just want you to know that--well--YOUR SUPPOSABLY my friends, you know? And your RE-diculous attitude has hurt my feelings. ALOT.