Wednesday, August 17, 2011
No Carne, Por Favor...
08/17/2011
August 11, 1995, exit 22 on I-68 near Grantsville, Maryland. I was on my way home from The Nancy’s house in Grafton, WV, and I was getting hungry. There aren’t many places to eat along I-68 in Western Maryland, so I flipped an imaginary coin and stopped in the only place to eat at this exit – a Burger King.
Prior to this day and about once each month I was getting what we all commonly refer to as a “stomach flu.” Mine would manifest itself in the form of mild abdominal cramps at the start, and getting more intense over a eight to ten hour (maybe longer) period. Most times this would culminate with me tossing whatever was in my stomach or just some dry heaves. Gees! I hope none of you are reading this at mealtime? These episodes would then quickly subside after the cleansing. I used to refer to this as my period because it happened just about every month for five or six years.
As I drove down the road at breakneck speed chowing down on a Whopper – made my way - and scoffing down French fries by the handful, that old familiar feeling began to come on. I was about 220 miles from home, and by the time I pulled up to my condo in Richmond, VA some four hours later, I was doubled over with cramps, sick as a dog. As I made my way into my house I decided the Whopper was the last meal with meat I would ever eat.
Fast forward sixteen years and here I sit having kept my promise to myself. I have not intentionally eaten any critter – critter being animal flesh of any kind, no bovine, no porcine, no fowl, or no seafood. Amazingly, to some of you shaking your heads thinking you could not give up meat, I must tell you I really have not missed it, and…I have not been ill (regurgitating) since August the 11th, 1995. Yea me!
I do not call myself a vegetarian. I just do not eat meat, but I have been known to knock down some eggs and I have a huge fondness for cheeses.
Now having spewed all this BS for you, I have to confess to very recently telling my favorite local chef I will eat one of his meat meals if he get his dreadlocks cut off. I didn’t think he would ever do it until his hair dragged the floor. The joke it seems is on me, he has already made the decision to donate his hair to a group called Locks of Love. I am Hoist in my own Petard, as it were.
I will let you know how this episode in the life of “Hell of a Guy” turns out, but I ain’t looking forward this at all. Me and my big mouth.
And that is all I have to say about that…