On or Off the Mark

Abortion: One Vegetarian’s View

2011-05-17T17:01:00.001-06:00

[Editor's Note: As a person who has never been accused of having an intelligent idea about anything, Mr. Reinhardt is constantly requested not to write about serious and/or controversial issues. Sometimes, though, he loses control of himself. Since we get this column cheap, we feel obliged to occasionally humor him. Our apologies in advance for offending you all.]

I'm a vegetarian, so naturally I'm pro-life. I'm also pro-choice. Needless to say, that combination leaves me feeling uncomfortably off-balance—kind of like a fish on horseback.

In the controversy over abortion, the positions of "pro-life" and "pro-choice" have become extremely politicized, and the emotional rhetoric may have moved both sides so far into the trees that they've lost sight of the forest. I'm not sure just where we vegetarians fit. If our track record is one of reverence for life and an unwillingness to conform our beliefs to what may be politically correct, then we just may not have a place in either one of these traditional camps.

By the time a typical abortion is performed the aborted fetus has a heartbeat, measurable brain waves, and its own circulatory system. The pro-life folks say that's enough to make abortion an act of killing babies. The pro-choice people disagree, claiming that the beginning of life can't be measured scientifically, and is therefore a philosophical and/or religious question to be answered by a woman and her doctor.

Nonsense. To my mind the pro-choice argument here represents the kind of collective guilty-conscience rationalization that would do even the meat industry proud. A fetus is obviously alive and obviously human. In an abortion it is violently killed. To argue otherwise is contrary to common sense. It is, in the popular vernacular, a large crock of peanut butter, and as a vegetarian who's opposed to killing, I'm not going to buy into it.

So, that puts me squarely in the pro-life camp, right? Well, not exactly. Even though I can empathize with the fervency they feel for their cause, these folks have some credibility problems of their own. First, while they claim to be "pro-life," for the majority that commitment ends at the doors to Planned Parenthood. There does not seem to be any concern, for example, over our nation's military activities, or over the state-sponsored killing of human beings in electric chairs or gas chambers. (Certainly there's no overriding concern with the quality of life—particularly for young women who find themselves unintentionally pregnant and want to reassert control over their own bodies.) Similarly, the commitment to end abortion itself seems to be limited to shutting the doors of the clinics and legislating morality. There's no movement to educate young people on family planning or to solve any of the social problems we all know underlie the abortion issue. Perhaps "pro-life" should more appropriately read "pro-life, as long as it agrees with my views of what's politically correct."

Another concern I have with the pro-life folks is in their "killing babies" argument. If they really believe abortion is killing babies (I think they do, and, as I say, I can't argue with them), then why don't they advocate treating it as murder? The reason, of course, is that such advocacy would be political suicide for their cause. If abortion is murder then exceptions in any anti-abortion law for rape, incest, and the health (as opposed to the life) of the mother make no sense. If abortion is murder, women who have them and their doctors ought to be tried and punished as murderers. The political system isn't ready to make these difficult choices. The pro-life people know that, and they're perfectly willing to ignore such troubling issues in promoting their cause. While they claim to want rights for the unborn, they really want only those particular rights that promote their political objectives, not the ones that might impede them.

I really get angry about the abortion issue whenever I hear the "silent scream" arguments. The pro-life people often make a point of describing how well developed the fingers and toes of the aborted fetus are, how it feels pain during the abortion, how its heart is stopped, etc. I don't disagree with what they are saying, or want to discount or suppress this information in any way. But as a vegetarian, I always want to ask the people making these arguments what they had for dinner the night before. A fetus may be a human "baby," but by any objective standard (intelligence, development of its nervous system, mobility, viability, etc.) it is a much lower life form than the cows, pigs, chickens and fish that the pro-life people legally kill for their food every day. (No, these animals don't have the "potential" to become a viable human being the way a fetus does. But if "potential" is the issue, we should outlaw every form of birth control, including abstention.)

We will always have a special concern for issues affecting the lives of our own species, I guess. Perhaps to some extent that may be natural and proper. Abortion, though, is merely part of a much larger web of interconnected issues concerning human life and, more universally, animal life on our planet. On these larger issues the political movement that calls itself "pro-life" isn't really pro-life at all. It isn't even a player.

Even though I abhor abortion, I must believe that it should remain legal and available. It is a huge tragedy every time an unwanted child is brought into this world. All too often it perpetuates a cycle of poverty, lack of self-respect, and child abuse that ultimately begets more abortions. Maybe I'm just naive, but I strongly believe that a program of educating young people before they are sexually active, making birth control widely available, and addressing underlying social problems will prevent many more abortions than the "pro-life" plan of relegating the procedure to the underworld and trying to universally impose moral values that may be contrary to human nature.

However it is viewed, though, abortion is violent and destructive. Every time it is implemented as a solution to a problem, it is an indication that the essential functions of our society have somehow failed. I can't imagine that all reasonable people wouldn't welcome an end to this practice. As vegetarians concerned with the rights of all living beings, we should strive toward that goal.

Is it possible to be both pro-life and pro-choice, without buying into the arguments of either of the political groups that claim those terms? I don't know, but I guess I'll have to give it a try.

Oh, The Disadvantages

2011-04-11T15:50:00.001-06:00

Years ago, in the dark days of my youth, cigarette companies (gasp!) were actually allowed to advertise on television. Today we're more enlightened. Tune in for more than 5 minutes now and you'll see several fast food companies trying to hook kids on hamburgers with promises of free toys. Such progress. (What's that, you say? Something about products that kill when used as intended???)

Anyway, one of those early cigarette ads pointed out all the disadvantages of the sponsor's new, longer cigarettes, showing how they could get caught in elevator doors, make you late for your own wedding, etc. Of course by pointing out these minor disadvantages, their real purpose was to show the significant advantages of their product (more tobacco, longer smoking times, faster lung cancer).

We can play the same game with vegetarianism. Try these, for example:

Disadvantage: "No hamburgers off the grill for me."

Advantage: "I just saved 8 trees in the rain forest."

Disadvantage: "There's nothing on this menu I can eat."

Advantage: "I didn't feel stuffed [sick/guilty/poor/etc.] after eating lunch."

Disadvantage/Advantage: "Oh gosh, all my friends are going into the hospital for bypass surgery, but I wasn't invited."

You get the idea. The primary plusses and minuses of vegetarianism should be obvious to everyone—everyone except meat-eaters I guess. Sometime when you're really bored, though (like when you're reading this column, or when one of those fast food commercials comes on during your favorite show), think of some of the more subtle ways your diet/lifestyle preference has made your life both miserable and wonderful. Here are a few ideas from your fellow vegetarians to get you started:

Disadvantage: "I ordered the 'veggie special' pizza, hold the cheese please, and they charged me the full menu price. You'd think by eliminating the most expensive ingredient they could shave a few bucks off the tab."

Disadvantage: "My dinner came with soup and salad, but I couldn't eat the soup because it had a beef broth. Did they give me a discount? No way!"

Advantage: There is no restaurant in the world where the "Oysters Rockefeller" is priced less than the "garden salad."

Disadvantage: "There have been times when I've been trapped in some of the most primitive places on earth (LaGuardia Airport in New York City, for example), where civilized dining is impossible. Once, when I was eating my dinner of Burger King French fries, I looked over at the people next to me eating chicken salad. It suddenly occurred to me that this was one night when I might possibly be eating healthier if I wasn't a vegetarian!"

Disadvantage/Advantage: The only desserts the restaurant had were loaded with cows' milk and chickens' eggs. Those things seemed gross to me, so it took no willpower at all to go for the berries. I saved a thousand calories' worth of saturated fat and felt good about myself for days."

Disadvantage: "My diet's so alien to them, my friends never invite me to dinner anymore. Heck, they're a bunch of stiffs anyway."

Advantage: "When charities hit me up for money I ask: 'Will my donation be used for animal testing? Will my money be used to buy meat?' If they don't slink quickly away (they usually do), at least I know my donation will go to a good cause."

Disadvantage: "Why does soy milk have to cost more than cows' milk when, all things considered, it's much cheaper to produce?"

Disadvantage/Advantage: "When I became a vegetarian I had to learn to cook for myself. It saved me a fortune and gave me a new hobby."

Disadvantage: "I didn't want to eat butter anymore, so I switched to olive oil. It's really lousy on pancakes."

Advantage: "It's great on everything else."

Advantage: "It doesn't bother me that federal meat inspection is so shoddy."

Disadvantage/Advantage: "I ordered the vegetarian meal on my last airline flight. Not only was it vegetarian, but the margarine was salt-free, the salad dressing was oil-free, and the roll was taste-free. It was still better than what they served the meat eaters."

If you play the disadvantage/advantage game with vegetarianism long enough, a couple of things become obvious. First, whatever disadvantages you might think up aren't problems inherent in vegetarianism at all, but are merely products of our minority status in society and lack of action on the part of meat-eaters. Second, the disadvantages of vegetarianism seem trivial when compared to the advantages.

Of course they do. That's why we're vegetarians.

The True Meaning Of Thanksgiving

2010-11-17T12:12:00.002-07:00

The first Thanksgiving, or so they say, was the fourth Thursday in November, 1620. It being a legal holiday, Irving Schwartz had the day off from his job as an account manager at Plymouth Bank and Trust and was bumming around the woods with his muzzle-loader. He came upon a wild turkey (not the whiskey, but the bird) with a broken wing and, without thinking, blasted the poor beast into the next life. Now it happened that this turkey was the largest and most beautiful bird Irving had ever seen, much less shot. (Actually it was the only bird Irving had ever shot—having been a tailor in London until a few months before.) He ran home trailing the carcass behind him and shouting
triumphantly, but his wife Mabel (people were really named that back then) stopped him at the door. "Clean that bloody thing outside," she said. "I just did the floors."

That afternoon the Indians were in town for a doubleheader. A potluck was scheduled between games and Irving proudly brought his turkey. "Want some?" he asked Rich Garcia, captain of the Indians.

"No thanks, kid, I never touch the stuff," Garcia responded as he stuffed beans into a corn tortilla.

A little dejected, Irving took the platter with the turkey on it over to his cousin Bernie at the other end of the table. "Try some of my turkey. It's real good," he said. As if to demonstrate he took a bite out of a drumstick and broke his front tooth on a piece of shot.

"Nah," Bernie responded. "I can't handle the cholesterol. I'm sticking with the salad."

And so it went all afternoon on that first Thanksgiving—neither Irving nor his turkey had a very good time amongst the early vegetarians of the New World. Of course in time the simple way of life of those early settlers was lost, and we all know the ensuing years have not been kind to our feathered friends. No longer do most people crave the bean enchilada or salad. No, ask Americans what they like best about Thanksgiving and you'll get the same answer from all of them: football.

The Food Rut (or, “I’ve sunk so low I have to reach up to scratch the belly of a snake”)

2010-09-29T11:16:00.001-06:00

Witness these facts: I've got a Cuisinart, two pasta makers, and duplicate sets of fancy French and German cooking knives. I've got 72 (or at least it seems like that many) vegetarian cookbooks, and a thick file with thousands of other recipes. I'm constantly pontificating on the endless variety and excitement of a vegetarian diet. I make fun of boring meat eaters who insist on eating the same four animals two or three times a day, every single day of their lives.

Mr. Big-Shot vegetarian, huh? Yeah, well it's easy to talk a big game. But if the truth be known, when the peanut butter hits the fan (the salad hits the colander, so to speak), I'm a fraud.

Yes, it's true. While I smile and extol the virtues of vegetarianism to everyone I meet, inside I'm tortured by a bitter reality—I haven't had a creative food idea in years. I'm in a food rut.

When I think about it, maybe it's always been this way. After all, there was that time when I survived for the better part of two years on nachos and beer (or was it Scotch?). But I was young and foolish then, and things like that had some appeal. What's my excuse now? There's no time to shop? No time to cook? Have I gotten lazy in my old age, or is my right brain just on vacation in Fiji?

I swear I've tried to break out of this rut. I've gone through every kind of bean I can find, but they all seem to taste the same. Ditto for greens. I bought a bottle of pickled watermelon rinds the other day, hoping for something different. But there they sit in the back of my refrigerator. I even bought a can of tomato aspic, the only food I hated as a kid, willing to give it one more try. I still hate it.

Everybody probably gets into food ruts now and then, but you'd never know it talking to my friends. The meat eaters I hang around with are either bragging about the new Tasmanian restaurants they've found, or tossing the names of rare mushrooms and snooty French wines into casual conversation. They don't seem to lack for excitement at the dinner table.

The vegetarians I know are even worse. They're all so upbeat about their diets. Take my friend Melissa, for example. When she hosts a dinner party she makes twenty (count 'em!) exciting new dishes—all vegan! Why can't I cook like that?

Next weekend I'm going to beat this thing. I'll dig out one of those 72 cookbooks and find something really unique to fix. Time, trouble, and hard-to-find ingredients will be no obstacle. I'm throwing out my motto that if it takes longer to cook than to eat, it isn't worth it. I'm determined to blaze gastronomic trails.

With my luck I'll like whatever it is. I'll like it so much, it will be on my dinner table every night for the next 6 months.

You know you're in a food rut when...

1. You've memorized your grocery list, and you carry exact change to the store.

2. Your cat "Bushwacker" no longer shows any interest in the sound of an opening can.

3. Your freeloading cousin Bernie turns down a dinner invitation.

4. You start to cook before you decide what you're making.

5. You go shopping for a microwave oven with a "memory" function.

6. Your kids decide to move into their own apartment...and the oldest one is only 13!

7. Your husband comes home and says, "I ate at the office."

8. You learn to perfectly synchronize your lunch preparation with the commercials on Oprah.

9. Your dog "Wrecks" begs to go out at dinnertime.

10. Your child surprises you by learning the word "barf" in 27 languages.

11. You find yourself wearing one of those cutesy aprons that says: "I'm only filling in while the cook gets treated for the plague."

My Fair Lady-2—The Sequel

2010-08-17T21:25:00.002-06:00

Last time, in this very same space, we met Anita, a delightful woman whom I cruelly singled out for attention for only one reason: Anita has one of the world's worst diets. It is a diet consisting almost entirely of animal-based foods, and dishes made with them. Indeed, the only strictly vegan food that Anita consumes on a regular basis is peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. (Even there you can't be too sure—what with all those horror stories you hear about rodent hairs getting into peanut butter.)

Anyway, after learning about Anita's diet I, in a demonstration of typical vegan patronization, decided to play Prof. Henry Higgins to her Eliza Doolittle, and teach her about the joys of vegetarianism. (This all seemed appropriate, given that My Fair Lady is based on a play written by a noted vegetarian.) So, for the past two months I've been bringing assorted samples of odd vegetarian foods for her to try out. And, of course, I promised to report the results back to you.

So, did everything work out just like I hoped? Was Anita amazed at the wonderful bounty of tasty vegetarian foods? Did I have her eating out of my hand (ha!—just a little joke to see if you're still paying attention) in no time? Did she decide to give up the pepperoni and pineapple pizzas (say it three times fast) she loves so much? Is she a vegetarian now? Vegan even? Did she quit her job to sell food dehydrators on late-night television?

It may shock you, but the answer to each of these questions is no. What did happen is considerably less dramatic. Anita learned about some new foods, and perhaps expanded her horizons a little bit. I learned some things too. Here are the highlights...

February 5: I bring Anita some of the curried tempeh salad I'd made over the weekend. Needless to say, she's never seen tempeh before. She's never eaten any kind of curry either. "Not too bad," she says, cautiously tasting it. "Spicy... Crunchy... I could eat that again ...but not every day. I'd rather have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich." An hour later she has her lunch—pepperoni and pineapple pizza with a candy bar.

February 9: I offer Anita some grapefruit from my folks' tree in Florida. She won't try it. "Too sour!"

February 12: I bring Anita some carry-out from the Chinese joint around the corner. Eggplant with hot garlic sauce and moo shu vegetables, hold the egg please. It is still early, and after her breakfast of Pop-Tarts I wonder if she'll be hungry. "It looks disgusting," she says immediately, "What's this stuff?" I tell her that it's eggplant, and she pokes at it disdainfully with her fork. "I've had eggplant, but it's been awhile," she says. "Can I just eat the rice and carrots?" Finally, after more coaxing, she decides to humor me, and guess what? She likes it! Except for the plum sauce, that is. It's too tangy for her. ("Maybe just regular barbecue sauce would be better.") I ask her about the tofu. "It's not bad," she says, "I thought it was squash." I consider this acceptance of tofu to be a major step in Anita's conversion. But that triumph is quickly followed by the inevitable setback. She's reluctant to try a piece of red pepper. After I assure her that it isn't hot she takes a tiny taste and isn't impressed. "There's nothing to it, and I don't like the skin on it. No, I'd pass on the pepper."

February 23: I bring Anita some killer chocolate pie. I figure she'll love it, and then I'll spring on her the fact that it's made with tofu. She hates it. "Too strong," she says. "I really don't like chocolate."

March 7: "Today's your lucky day," I say, putting a bowl of miso soup in front of Anita. "I'm hungry for something," she responds, "...but I don't think that's it." She takes a sip and makes a face. "It hits the buds! That soy sauce is kind of salty—you have to have a beverage beside you." I ask her about the tofu, which, by this time, is nothing new to her. "It doesn't look real appetizing, but it doesn't taste bad," she says. "It looks like compressed puke to me." The peapods get a less favorable reception. She tastes one and looks like she's going to die on the spot. "The peas has got to go!" she screams. "Those peas has got to go!"

By the end of March I was starting to detect a pattern in Anita's reactions to foods. She clearly preferred the bland to the spicy, with as little texture as possible. That figures, I thought. Most meat and dairy products are mild tasting, and have nothing in them that remotely resembles fiber. They just kind of slide down the throat on a slick of grease. Once folks get used to eating that stuff, even something like a peapod could be a challenge. Maybe the simple facts that most vegetarian foods have distinct flavors and textures are huge factors inhibiting their popularity. Sadly, these are the very things we vegetarians love.

This is a depressing thought. The more tasty we make our vegetarian food, the more unappealing it might be to meat eaters. Maybe vegetarians and meat eaters will just have to "agree to disagree" about the majority of foods, and settle for whatever common ground they can find. ("How about that peanut butter and jelly, huh?" "Yeah, how about that peanut butter and jelly!")

One day, when I was feeling especially depressed by all of this, Anita dropped by. "You'd be proud of me," she beamed. "We took some raw vegetables, and we steamed them! Sure, we had to put just a little bit of cheese on them, but let me tell you, it was deeeelicious! I said to my husband Jeff, 'We should have this more often.' Of course we did have chicken for the main course, but you've got to start somewhere."

I couldn't hide a big smile. Yeah, I was thinking, you've got to start somewhere.

Anita reacts to your favorite foods...

Orange Juice: Only if it is canned or frozen. She doesn't like the fresh stuff because the pulp sticks to her teeth.
Tofu: "Nasty... Slimy... Reminds me of something someone who didn't have any teeth would eat."
Chinese: "I've eaten sweet and sour pork."
Spices: Absolutely none, other than pepper. Except garlic bread is okay.
Fried pork rinds: "I have to be in the mood, and one's enough."
Onions: "Ugh!"
Brussel Sprouts: "Oh, my god!"

My Fair Lady

2010-07-04T09:05:00.002-06:00

When I tell people I don't eat either meat or dairy products they screw up their faces in disbelief and say, "What's left???" I can't get a decent meal at the vast majority of the restaurants in the United States. I don't dare go to a neighborhood potluck unless I eat beforehand.

All of this is distressing, to be sure. But it has also left me with an interesting thought: I bet there are people in this world, probably right here in River City, State of Confusion, USA, who have diets so different from mine that the two don't overlap at all. Let me say it another way: If there are vegans who don't eat any animal products, there are probably other people who never eat anything that doesn't contain animal products. Wow, just like Mr. and Mrs. Sprat! It's a sobering thought.

I must say that I've had a morbid fascination with this for the last few years. The idea that someone out there is eating at the totally opposite end of the spectrum from me has increased my awareness of the diets of people around me. I haven't actually found anyone who's food choices meet my criteria of "nothing without animal products passes these lips," but I have found some folks out there who come darned close. People with really horrible diets.

(Before going on I should explain that when I use terms like "really horrible" and "gag me with a pipe wrench," my comments are totally subjective, and do not necessarily make any value judgments. Indeed, as a guy who has in the past defined the four food groups as "sugar, chocolate, alcohol and nicotine," folks might well be healthier if they stay away from my dietary suggestions.)

It's been quite an experience to discover people who's diets seem as strange to me as mine must seem to them, and over the past couple of years I've found some doozies. First there's my friend Blake who washes everything down with a quart of cow's milk. Then there is Greg, who won't eat anything all day but pastries and candy. Just when I thought I'd seen everything though, just when I thought it was safe to go back in the supermarket, I met someone really, really special. We'll call her "Anita," since that's her real name.

Some background information is probably in order. Anita is an attractive, thin, 27 year-old blonde who is both intelligent and charming. She grew up in rural Indiana, (no doubt with parents like mine, who believe vegetarians are communists), married a man with a background similar to hers, and is now enjoying a normal, happy lifestyle. Normal, at least, with the exception of her food choices.

Anita admits to being a "fussy" eater, a trait that apparently started at an early age. "I definitely ate fatty, fatty in high school," she says, referring to her daily lunch of four candy bars and a pop. Since then her diet has become more varied, but not by much. She obsesses on her two favorite foods, macaroni and cheese and pizza, and it is as a topping on the latter that she consumes the only fruit that she'll eat: canned pineapple. Anita won't eat fresh pineapple because it isn't as sweet, and the texture reminds her of (god forbid!) an apple. If Anita had been in the Garden of Eden humankind would never have fallen from grace.

Anita is just as discriminating with her vegetables. The only ones she'll eat are corn and potatoes. (The spuds are instant, from a box. "We have real potatoes about every 4 months.") Cauliflower and broccoli are okay, but only if there's dip available.

Four years ago Anita took a major step forward in her dietary progress. That was when she ate her first salad. Now she doesn't mind them, as long as they're limited to iceberg lettuce, carrots and croutons, with French or ranch dressing. "I've gotten very experimental in the last four years," she says.

Anita's meats of choice are hamburger and pot roast and chicken breasts. She also likes "Rice Krispie treats," which are apparently snacks made out of cereal and marshmallows. Strangely, though, she claims no interest in other creations of American culture such as marshmallow cream, Cheez-Whiz, and Spam.

Many of Anita's dietary intentions are admirable. She worries about fat now because of cholesterol problems in her family, so she buys only skim milk and "93%" hamburger (apparently that's the "low fat" stuff). She even likes "wheat" bread better than white. Unfortunately, her favorite sandwich is "mayonnaise." Mmmm.

When Anita gave me the details of her diet, my immediate reaction was: "I can enlighten this misguided soul!" (Yeah right, as if I could enlighten anybody!) For a fleeting moment I envisioned myself as a Rex Harrison type (a fair comparison I think—after all, we both have gray hair and speak English) meeting an Eliza Doolittle type. She'd be a real challenge, but if I could get Anita to like vegetarian foods, that would prove that it's possible to convert (or at least influence) any meat eater.

If I could cook for this woman for three months, I thought, I might have a chance of saving her. That, of course, wouldn't be practical. I did, however, promise to bring her samples of the foods I eat. In return, she didn't exactly promise to eat any of these foods, but I am pretty sure she'll at least look at them.

That's a start anyway. In the meantime, I'm already making progress. I've already found that we actually have one food in common. Both Anita and I like peanut butter and jelly.

(Next time: Mark sings "The Rain in Spain..." and reports back on how the conversion process is going.)

Meat World 2100—A Fantasy?

2010-06-13T08:31:00.001-06:00

I should have been more careful. I was fooling around with the electrical circuit breaker panel behind my house, and as soon as I poked the screwdriver in underneath the switch I knew I'd done the wrong thing. There was a loud cracking sound, and then everything went black and I felt my body floating in air. "Whew!" I said to myself, "It sure smells like something's burning."

The next thing I knew I was in a long tunnel, walking toward a bright light. A kindly gentleman who looked like Jimmy Carter greeted me and led me into a lavish office. "Mr. Reinhardt, we've been waiting for you," he said, bringing my picture and vital statistics up on a giant computer screen hanging on the wall and offering me his hand. "My name's Rodney. Rodney St. Peter. I see that you're a vegetarian..."

"Is this heaven?" I asked.

Rodney laughed. "Not yet—but the next best thing, you lucky guy. Your next reincarnation is going to be in Meat World 2100—the perfect future on Earth as created by the joint efforts of the American Meat Institute and the American Dairy Association!"

He must have seen the terror in my face. "Oh, don't worry," Rodney said immediately. "You're going to loooovvve it! Look, your guides are here now for your orientation."

I spun around and saw a stocky man and a blonde woman in western suits and cowboy boots. They introduced themselves as "Mr. Bertram" and "Jan," and no sooner had one of them said "come along with us" than we were climbing into a flashy car with the softest leather upholstery imaginable.

"I think you'll find that Meat World 2100 addresses every concern you vegetarians may once have had," Mr. Bertram said as he swiveled the front seat of the car around to face me. "Here, have one of our official pins."

Before I could object Mr. Bertram had pinned a tiny holographic picture of a smiling cow to my shirt. He was beaming with pride at the man-made environment around us. We were on an elevated, computer-guided highway, cruising through a landscape of skyscrapers and "Super-Mega Wal-Mart" stores.

"You vegetarians were right in pointing out the problems with eating animal products... we can admit that now," Jan elaborated. "But by the end of the twenty-first century, when Meat World 2100 was being planned, we'd already addressed most of those concerns. We developed pills to counter the effects of cholesterol and fat in the body, and other pills to simulate the effects of anti-oxidants and quistines in fruits and vegetables."

"Quistines?"

"Oh, they didn't know about them in your time—but they're very good for you. Anyway, we can do it all synthetically now, with petrochemicals. So eating steaks and hot fudge sundaes is every bit as good for you as the plant foods that humans once consumed. Would you believe it, our school lunches now consist of hamburgers and ice cream, with lots of milk!"

"They did in my day too," I answered.

Jan and Mr. Bertram took me to one of their "food processing facilities" for a tour. It was a sixty-story building that went on for blocks. Across from the entrance was a McDonald's restaurant, still with the ugly golden arches. The sign read: "More billions served than even we can imagine!"

Our first stop was the chicken processing line where square blocks of featherless birds stretched as far as the eye could see. "These chickens are genetically engineered to be 95% breast meat," Mr. Bertram told me. "See how we've been able to shrink the wings and head down to almost nothing? And we make them square so they take up less space."

"What are the tubes going into them?" I asked.

"Life support systems. All their food, water and oxygen flow in through those tubes, and the animals' waste flows out for recycling. Genetic engineering pushes the limits of living systems, you know—these birds couldn't live for a second in the ambient environment."

"Removing the tubes is our method of humane slaughter!" Jan chimed in proudly.

My two hosts took me to see the dairy cows (which looked like small tanker trucks on hooves) and the "all prime tenderloin" steers before we went back to the training room for a debriefing. I was starting to feel sick by that time, but Jan still wanted to talk about science. "Isn't genetics wonderful?" she asked. "Within the next five years all babies born in Meat World 2100 will have blonde hair, perfect teeth, and noses like Shirley MacLaine."

Out in the hall behind my hosts I caught sight of a small man jumping up and down and waving wildly to get my attention.

"I think I need to use your rest room," I said suddenly.

"Down the hall to your right," Mr. Bertram pointed. "Take it easy with the high suction tubes, though. If you aren't used to them they can turn you inside out."

When I got out the door the little man grabbed my arm and pulled me into an elevator. "I'm Eddie," he said excitedly. "Thank goodness I found you."

"Where are we going?" I asked as he hit the down button.

"Veggie World 2100, of course!" He handed me the small holographic picture of an eggplant. "Here, have one of our official pins."

Eddie's car looked like a 1987 Honda I once owned, but magically, a second after Eddie put it in gear, we were traveling over a landscape of forested hillsides and valleys thick with grasses. "Is this Veggie World?" I asked.

"That's right," Eddie said. "And I'm taking you to meet the number one, big honcho veggie himself—he goes by the name of Rumim."

We found Rumim sitting by himself in a comfortable apartment on the outskirts of a small town. He had a bald head and a white robe, and he sat cross-legged on the floor with a serene look on his face. Somehow he must have been expecting me, because he greeted me warmly, and then tried to address the questions I had.

"Veggie World 2100 may appear similar to the world you once lived in, but there are overwhelming improvements." He motioned for me to sit down, and then went on. "You see, at the end of the twenty-first century we decided to form a society based on a very simple principle—reverence for all life. No one could have imagined what a difference it would make! War was eliminated overnight, as was virtually all crime. Of course, disease went way down and the quality of our environment improved dramatically. Now we spend the money that used to go to warplanes and hospitals and jails on education, music, art and Tofumatics."

"Tofumatics?"

"They're advertised on our late-night TV," Eddie explained. "For $79.95 you can make tofu at home—in twelve exciting flavors."

"We've fared a lot better than our counterparts who took the other course and started Meat World 2100," Rumim went on. He shook his head sadly. "They've been plagued by disease, environmental contamination, and the continual unrest brought on by the struggle for domination over other creatures—non-human and human. They live in poverty now, and their numbers have almost died out..."

"But that's not true!" I said. "I just visited Meat World 2100. It was creepy, but it certainly seemed successful."

Rumim and Eddie laughed hysterically at that, and it was several seconds before they calmed down enough that I could ask what the joke was.

"That wasn't the real Meat World 2100," Rumim explained. "What you saw was their virtual reality cyberspace demo. They just made that to lure in new members!"

"Wow..." I thought about what might have been my fate. Thank goodness Eddie rescued me. "Well, I know I'm going to like living in Veggie World 2100," I said. I was already thinking about getting one of those Tofumatics.

Rumim shook his head.

"No?!!"

"You can't stay here," he told me. "You have to go back to your life at the turn of the twenty-first century. The work all you vegetarians did then was necessary in laying the groundwork for Veggie World 2100. ...I'm sorry, but we still need you there."

"But what can I do? I'm just a bozo!"
I protested.

Rumim nodded. "We know. But everyone counts."

When I awoke I was flat on my back. "What a vivid dream!" I thought. Then I saw the two holographs pinned to my chest, and I sat up in a bolt. So, maybe it wasn't just a dream.

Suddenly I felt as though I had a lot of work to do, although I wasn't sure exactly what it was I should be doing. I've got to get started, I said to myself. After all, it's up to us—bozos included—to assure the great vegetarian future.

The History of Meat!

2010-05-30T07:59:00.002-06:00

"The hopes, disappointments, triumphs and failures of our civilization can readily be seen in the gristle of a T-bone steak."—Hank "Bull Moose" Carter, Enid, Oklahoma, May, 1949

The author of this column has recently completed a project exhaustively researching and chronicling the entire history of human meat eating on our planet. As you might imagine, a project of this magnitude was not easy, and required almost several minutes in the library. Nevertheless, the effort was well worth it, and I am pleased to present here, for the first time, an exhaustive discourse on this important topic—The History of Meat!

• Distant Past— First, humans are gatherers. Then humans learn to sow. Thus, the early human beings gather and sow. As a consequence, many of their clothes are pleated.

• Pretty Darned Distant Past— Fred Caplinski becomes the first human being ever to eat animal flesh (and also the first person to barbecue) when he cooks the remains of a dead squirrel over the fire in front of the family cave in central Africa. When Mrs. C and their two daughters come home from a shopping trip to the mall Fred proudly declares: "This is 'meat.' It will be very useful in the coming ice age!"

"That's gross daddy!" says Fred's younger daughter Megan.

"Gag me with a spoon!" says Fred's older daughter Ashley.

"We have no spoons; we still eat with our hands," observes Fred's wife.

• Late Pleistocene Age— All meat-eaters of this period are Neanderthals.

• 10th Century B.C.— King Solomon meats out justice.

• Spring, 21 A.D.— A rescue party reaches a brigade of the Roman Army which has been cut off all winter in a remote mountain pass with dwindling supplies. The men are promised fresh meat and a change of underwear. They rejoice until they learn they must change with each other.

• 1546— English king Henry VIII poses for reporters with a glass of mead in one hand and a giant drumstick in the other. Later in life he would be forced to admit his mistake. Dying of syphilis, his last words are: "Yeah, other than that drumstick I always lived a pretty clean life."

About this same time under the developing common law in England "meats and bounds" becomes the accepted method of describing real property.

• 1849— German immigrant butcher Oscar Meyer gets an idea for a new product in a most unusual way. Seeing his pet dachshund char-broiled by lightning in a field behind his house, Meyer exclaims, "Now, that's a hot dog!"

• 1904— The Saint Louis World's Fair opens, with its theme song "Meat Me In Saint Louis."

• 1963— Dr. Scholl sues the McDonald's hamburger chain, claiming he first used the term "Golden Arches" in conjunction with his orthopedic merchandise. In ruling on the case, the court notes a remarkable similarity between fast-food burgers and "shoe-lining products."

• 1973— In an effort to combat rampant inflation, the President of the United States issues an Executive Order freezing retail meat prices. The next day newspaper headlines throughout the country proclaim: "Nixon Holds Rising Meat."

• 2096— Jerry Caplinski (Fred's cousin, 43,257 times removed) becomes the last human being ever to eat meat. At the time meat has already been banned by all countries for nearly 14 years on ecological and ethical grounds. But Jerry has kept a can of Spam in the back of the cupboard in his Brooklyn apartment for all that time. He opens it, and with great expectation takes a bite. Just then Mrs. C and their two daughters come home from a shopping trip to the mall, and Jerry must quickly dispose of the evidence. Although her husband refuses to tell her what he was doing, Mrs. Caplinski swears she hears him say under his breath: "Jeez, it's even worse than I remembered. You'd think after a couple million years they could do better than this!"

The Further Prurient Tales of the Veggie Avenger: “Love Beyond the Golden Arches”

2010-05-21T10:22:00.002-06:00

The Veggie Avenger is at his friend Stu's house, watching the ballgame on television and drinking beer. Our hero is still recovering from bruises sustained when he was kidnapped by the "little old lady," and had to jump to safety from her 1958 Plymouth Belvedere.

Stu's sister Maureen walks into the room. The Veggie Avenger has been sweet on Maureen ever since that day in junior high school when she told him he was immature. He straightens the collar on his faded tee shirt and tries to look casual.

Veggie Avenger: Hi Maureen.

Maureen [batting her eyelashes]: Hi Florian. [Now you know why he goes by the name of "the Veggie Avenger".]

The inning is over with the Big City Ramblers leading 5-4, and a commercial comes on the television.

Stu: Look, it's the new McDonald's ad.

Veggie Avenger [reacting to McDonalds' commercials in his usual way]: No! No! [he jumps up and down on the sofa]

Stu: I read somewhere that they make their burgers and milkshakes out of seaweed.

Veggie Avenger: No! No! The seaweed was just a binding ingredient. Most of their products are hideous, bloody, dead animal parts.

Maureen: Yuck!

The Veggie Avenger looks at her with new hope. She's a vegetarian at heart, he thinks! He's more in love than ever. He wonders if she wants children.

Maureen [continuing]: How can anyone eat seaweed? Yuck!

With that comment the Veggie Avenger is crestfallen. On television smiling families are biting into hamburgers to the sound of patriotic music. Our hero can stand it no longer. He takes off his shoe and throws it at the set, knocking the television backwards off its stand. There is a flash of light and a puff of smoke. The music stops.

Stu: Well, that'll cost you about three hundred dollars.

Veggie Avenger [head in hands]: Oh, no... What have I done?

Maureen: I'm hungry. Anyone want to go out for a hamburger?

The Battle of Veg*an Hill

2010-05-10T10:26:00.002-06:00

"I have ridiculed people for not being vegan and I have been ridiculed for not being vegan enough. To tell you the truth, neither position feels very good."—Elaine Budlong, Here Come the Vegan Police, Vegan Forum, Summer 1999.

I guess I was just sitting here fat, dumb and happy (Note: the emphasis is on "dumb"). I thought everything was as groovy as can be in the world of vegetarianism, and that we were all getting along splendidly. Then I heard from a more astute friend of mine about the battles being fought between ovo-lacto vegetarians and vegans. Well, maybe "battles" is too strong a word—but at least heated disagreements. I was dumbfounded. (Again, the emphasis is on "dumb".) How can this be?

In retrospect, it's not hard to see how friction between vegetarians might arise. Vegans feel their diet is more beneficial than an ovo-lacto diet from both a health and ethical perspective, and with the best of intentions they see fellow vegetarians as likely converts. (It's an old fundraising trick—ask the people who have already given to give more, rather than wasting your time finding new donors.) On the other hand, many ovo-lacto vegetarians already have their hands full trying to balance their diets with the demands of meat-eating family and friends. They rightfully think they deserve praise for their efforts, rather than the scorn of "holier-than-thou" fellow vegetarians.

Of course both sides in the Battle of Veg*an Hill are right, but merely saying that doesn't help solve the problem. We need to remember the basics.

We're all on a continuum.

It's been said before, and it's true. Humanity can be viewed as being on a continuum—a giant scale on which the vegetarian ideals we all know and love are measured. At one end of this continuum are folks like Gandhi and Mother Teresa (okay, so maybe neither one was vegan, but you get the idea—they had the right attitude). At the other end of the continuum, of course, are the bad guys—the American Meat Association, Ted Nugent, and the "People Eating Tasty Animals" web site. The rest of us are all somewhere in between. There are no perfect vegetarians, and there isn't one of us whose diet and lifestyle couldn't stand improvement. None of us have bragging rights.

We're all weak…

Sure, we all want to get to the end of the continuum where Gandhi and Mother Teresa are having a cookout, but sometimes it's tough going. More often than not it's just human nature to be weak, lazy and self-centered.

…but vegetarians are pretty remarkable.

Fortunately though, even the weakest vegetarians have done some pretty remarkable things, especially when it comes to thinking for themselves, acting on their beliefs and being an example for others. On the values that the strictest vegans hold dear, even a rookie vegetarian is in the top 1% of the population as a whole. But let's not dismiss that other 99% either. Remember, we don't all start with the same advantages of genetics, education and encouragement. The real measure of character may not be where on the continuum we end up—vegan, vegetarian, or even meat eater—but how far we had to travel to get there.

We have to get along with others.

We are social animals, and in our culture, where very few people are vegetarian and very few people can even comprehend veganism, it's hard to fault anyone for continuing to eat meat, much less dairy products. So let's not do it! Whether it's vegans trying to influence ovo-lacto vegetarians, or ovo-lacto vegetarians trying to influence meat-eaters, negative energy rarely does anything but make enemies. On the other hand, don't underestimate the power of getting along with people. Who does more for the cause of vegetarianism—a vegan who alienates others with his proselytizing or an ovo-lacto vegetarian who others admire and want to follow?

We need everybody!

We need everyone we can get in the vegetarian movement. We need those seemingly "perfect" vegans, who we can all look up to as the very embodiment of human health and the epitome of compassion for the earth and its creatures. Maybe we resent them a bit because they make it look so easy, but vegetarianism would be weak and undisciplined without them, and its promise would be unfulfilled. Just as much, though, we also need the housewife who, in her first unsteady months as an ovo-lacto vegetarian, smiles and tells her friends "it isn't so hard!" and then tries to find vegetarian dishes her family will like. Without people like her the movement would isolate itself and die.

On the great continuum of vegetarian ideals I've just barely crossed over from the "Gandhi" side of ovo-lacto vegetarianism to the "Ted Nugent" side of veganism. I haven't given up on being invited to the soiree at Mother Teresa's place, but I know I've still got a long, long way to go. (Boy, do I have a long way to go!) I'm counting on all those vegans, ovo-lacto vegetarians, and even meat-eaters who may be a little further along on some of the "vegetarian ideals" than I am to help me out. I want them to point out my flaws, and I want them to challenge me to do better. But I want them to do it with love and respect. In turn, I'll try to do the same for those coming up the path where I've just been.

Life is a continuum and we all need to keep moving in the right direction. It shouldn't be hard. If we encourage and care about each other, all of us will win the Battle of Veg*an Hill.

Vegetarians in Hollywood

2010-05-01T10:16:00.002-06:00

You wouldn't know it by looking at my humble exterior, but I happen to be an avid and discerning amateur scholar of the motion picture and television arts and sciences. …In other words, I really like to watch movies and TV. …In other words, I'm a couch potato.

Now, before you form any judgments as to the value of this activity, I would like to point out that it benefits my vegetarianism in at least two important ways. First, being a couch potato affords me with plenty of time and opportunity to consume vast quantities of vegetarian foods. (A complete record of such foods is preserved between the cushions of the aforesaid couch.) Even more important, the diligent study of such current art forms as Entertainment Tonight and such classical forms as Blockbuster's Favorites puts me in the perfect position to assess the changing image of vegetarianism and vegetarians in our popular culture.

Did I say changing image? Well, I guess that's correct. The fact is that 25 years ago vegetarians didn't even exist on TV or in the movies. Things have come a long way since then. The good news is that as we burrow into the new millennium vegetarian characters and references to vegetarianism are now commonplace on both the big and little screen. The bad news is that the vast majority of these characters and references exist only for one purpose: to help meat-eaters feel smug about their dietary choices.

Let me put it this way. Remember when the only African-Americans in the movies and on TV were actors like Stepin Fetchit and characters like Amos & Andy? Well, that's still where we vegetarians are.

See if you recognize some of the ways Hollywood stereotypes vegetarianism.

The Hopeless Hippy—The most common stereotype is to portray vegetarians as losers, wedded to outdated values and unable to function in our society. A great example of this is the totally unsuitable blind date Hugh Grant is fixed up with in Notting Hill. I guess the message is that vegetarians may be harmless enough, but jeez—nobody would want to date one!
The Victim—Hollywood reflects (no, maybe it creates) the "kill or be killed" mentality in our society. On the African veldt herbivores get eaten and carnivores triumph, so the logic is that the same hierarchy should apply to human characters on the screen. Maybe the 400^th James Bond movie will finally portray the spy as a vegetarian, but we're not likely to see it in our lifetimes.
The Casual Reference—Casual references to vegetarianism abound in the movies, but invariably lead to nothing. Consider Walter Matthau's comment to Audrey Hepburn as their characters walk by a meat packing operation in Charade: "It's enough to make you a vegetarian." Apparently it isn't. Those same characters share chicken and liverwurst sandwiches. The fact is that movies want to show big slabs of "beef" (we all remember the scene in Rocky) because of the visceral effect they have on the audience.
Thank God You're Not a Vegetarian—A favorite Hollywood trick is to have one character offer another some disgusting dead thing to eat. When the second character balks, there's the question: "You're not a vegetarian [said with distain] are you???" The thought that he or she could be aligned with such a group invariably causes the character to down the offensive item to prove his/her valor and immediately bond him/her to the audience. See, for example, all of the Indiana Jones movies and the entire Survivor television series.
Isn't there any good news for vegetarians coming out of Hollywood? Actually, there is. There's a growing group of actors endorsing vegetarian and animal rights causes (Woody Harrelson, Pamela Anderson, Alicia Silverstone, James Cromwell, etc.), and there have been some popular movies with surprisingly strong vegetarian themes.
Of course the bad news is that those vegetarian themes are only implied, and never stated (the latter would be box office suicide). And while vegetarian ideas in movies may eventually catch on and be effective, for now they seem to be getting lost in the shuffle. Consider this recent dialog on the Internet:
"First Babe, now Chicken Run. Is a vegetarian conspiracy underfoot to brainwash youngsters against meat-eating?"
"For what it's worth, both of my kids were hungry for chicken after seeing Chicken Run."

As a vegetarian and movie lover I try to remain hopeful, despite Hollywood's track record and the even less enlightened state of its audience. In the recent movie The Contender I really found something to cheer about. That movie (one of the very few to actually say the word vegan) uses meat-eating as a metaphor for corruption and evil. The heroine, a vice-presidential candidate who "doesn't eat meat," has her political status threatened by an evil Congressman (Gary Oldman) who loves the stuff. There's even a great scene of a political newcomer being corrupted by none other than a fish sandwich (I think they stole this plot from Genesis). The scenes of Oldman, sneering and nasty as he savors his steak dinner, are classic.
Finally! I thought. Now there's a real Hollywood bad guy!
Some Vegetarian TV and Movie Trivia
Only one movie has ever had the word "vegetarian" in its title: Vegetaren ("The Vegetarian"), a 1992 Swedish short subject.
"'Vegetarian' is an old Indian word meaning 'I don't hunt so good.'"—Reg Hunter, The Red Green Show (1991).
"Oh my God, are they vegetarian? That's not in the book!"—Counselor Deanna Troi, Star Trek: Insurrection (1998).
From Return of the Swamp Thing (1989):
Swamp Thing: Me? Your Boyfriend?
Abby Arcane: Why not?
Swamp Thing: You said it yourself: I'm a plant.
Abby Arcane: That's okay, I'm a vegetarian.

Green Salad, Today Only

2010-04-18T22:50:00.001-06:00

I saw the sign as I was driving down the boulevard near my house, taking a movie back to the video store. It was out in front of one of those chain restaurants—the one that's been in the news recently for only hiring waitresses with large... er... silicone-enhanced appendages.

"Green Salad, Today Only."

What did that mean, I wondered? Were they really trying to lure customers into their establishment on the promise of something crunchy and green? Would they really be out of salads tomorrow? Wouldn't they at least have iceberg lettuce available to top their customers' burgers? Couldn't they make that into a salad in a pinch? (If they had to, they could always mix some mayo and ketchup together to make Russian dressing.)

I decided I was taking this sign too seriously. (After all, it wasn't like I was actually thinking about eating at this restaurant.) The sign was just a joke, that's all.

I drove a few more blocks before a new thought hit me. The sign was more prophetic than funny. In six syllables, the high school/summer vacation/minimum wage workers at this all-American chain restaurant had said something profound—something more profound than the rest of us self-serving vegetarian pundits have managed to put on paper in the last 25 years. "Green Salad, Today Only." It's everything that's wrong with the world's attitude, not to mention its food choices.

We vegetarians are justifiably proud of what we've accomplished over the years. There can be no doubt that, at least in North America and Europe, the philosophy behind vegetarianism is more popular than ever before. More people all the time are becoming aware of the ethical, health and environmental benefits that can be realized when we stop putting "beastly" foods in our bodies.

Despite all this good news though, some of us still worry that we may be losing the proverbial war. Here's why... In the United States per capita consumption of meat, poultry and fish has been steadily rising for decades. In 1963 the average American ate 185 pounds of these critters, but that number was up to 195 pounds in 1973, 208 pounds in 1983, and a whopping 222.6 pounds in 1993, the last year for which information is available. The American Meat Institute brags that, "Americans are not becoming vegetarians!" As more of the world's countries follow our cultural example, as rain forests are burned for cattle grazing and McDonalds restaurants spring up in Borneo and Namibia, one can only imagine the trend that meat consumption must be taking in other parts of the globe as well.

There's more bad news where that came from. A recent Roper Poll conducted for the Vegetarian Resource Group found that, while 7% of Americans profess to be vegetarian, the number consistently shunning meat, poultry and fish is really somewhere between .3% and 1%. Yes, you read that right—point three
percent! No wonder nobody reads this column! With those kinds of numbers for vegetarians, the percentage of vegans in the U.S. might actually be negative! (Just kidding.) Indeed, with those kinds of numbers, it's not surprising that we can't find a good vegetarian meal in most restaurants, much less anything we can eat at the ballgame, shopping mall or family reunion. Heck, even Jane Fonda has gone from "saving the whales" to hawking buffalo meat.

Okay, so I'm feeling a little paranoid. But, as the prophet says, that doesn't mean they aren't out to get us. What we need to counter all this is something dramatic. What we need are some headlines that will put the vegetarian cause on the front page of every newspaper in the world. Here's an example:

Scientists Discover AIDS Transmission Through Animal Blood In Food

Scientists have isolated a new kind of HIV virus that may be transmitted to humans by consuming the blood of farm animals. "Anyone who eats meat or eggs is seriously at risk," explained researcher Dr. Frank Lee of the University of...

or maybe this:

"Mad Cow" Disease Makes A Comeback

Creutzfeldt-Jakob Disease, the fatal human illness believed to be linked to "Mad Cow" Disease is making a dramatic comeback in all parts of the world. And this time it appears to be linked to the consumption of a wide variety of farm animals, including animals from herds that displayed no sign of disease prior to slaughter "Anyone who eats meat or dairy products is seriously at risk," explained researcher Dr. Frank Lee of the University of....

You're thinking this is too grim, and you're right. This is just the kind of thing we're trying to avoid. What we really need is a headline that will motivate people in a more positive way before these evil scenarios have a chance to play out. Something like this:

God Visits White House—

Advocates Vegetarianism

The face of God appeared at a White House luncheon honoring Pope John-Paul II today. Onlookers reported that a bearded presence, which could not be captured on videotape, appeared to hover over the table where President Clinton and the Pontiff were seated. Both men dropped their forks into their salad Niçoise when the Creator, using a voice reminiscent of Charleton Heston, said, "Put down the flesh, go for the fresh!" in 128 languages simultaneously.

"He made a believer out of me," said the startled President, confirming that both he and the Pope intend to carry out God's order of vegetarianism. Republican presidential contender Bob Dole echoed these sentiments, adding that he would host a vegan fundraising dinner in an attempt to win God's endorsement. Congress was reluctant to give its immediate approval. Party leaders said they would appoint a bipartisan commission to study the matter...

Yeah, that's more like it. That's the kind of publicity we need, or at least something close. Until that happens I'll keep espousing the cause, but I reserve my right to be pessimistic. It's not that I don't think that vegetarianism will eventually be the preferred diet for humans on this earth. I just fear that the transition may be a long time in coming, and may only follow after lots of those grim headlines become reality, including some that deal with environmental degradation, starvation and other human suffering.

I hope I'm wrong, but I worry that until catastrophe hits, we may be in store for more of the same—people giving vegetarianism a lot of "lip service," but really leading a very different kind of lifestyle in private. I worry that until tragedy is upon us people will continue to
spend their time down at the chain restaurants, watching the well-endowed waitresses, scarfing down hamburgers and chickens' wings, and laughing at "rabbit food" and the people who eat it.

Green salad, today only

It says a mouthful.

Terrorism [2001 revisit to the issue]

2010-03-31T09:55:00.002-06:00

"Terror": …violence (as bombing) committed by groups in order to intimidate a population or government into granting their demands"—Merriam Webster's Collegiate Dictionary

"Even before his death, his entire life was devoted to animal rights issues... The methods he chose to achieve his ends, however, alienated him from any mainstream opinion. To most, only in the detail was he different from almost any other terrorist."—Journalist Charles Shoebridge, describing animal rights activist Barry Horne, who recently died from a hunger strike in a British jail.

Are you a terrorist? Do you support terrorism?

Of course not, you will probably say. It's not even something you'd have to think about. In fact, you've denounced it a million times since September 11.

But answer the following questions:

Wouldn't you like to see the cage doors of every mink farm, laying hen battery, and animal research laboratory swung open and billions of animals escape to whatever freedom they could find?
Would you really mind seeing every McDonald's sign spray painted to make the famous "golden arches" form the first letter of the phrase "meat is murder"?
How about slaughterhouses? Wouldn't you like to see every one of them leveled, and shrines for the dead animals put in their place?
Wouldn't you secretly (or not so secretly) root for someone who could make all this happen?
The point here, of course, is that sometimes terrorism doesn't seem so bad if the "terrorist" activities support a cause we deeply believe in. In that case the "right" thing to do may shift, or at least become a bit murky. It's like the old question of whether you would have assassinated Hitler in 1933 if you'd had the opportunity to do so and the knowledge of future events. Would you?
In our society terrorism—at least in the form of illegal destruction of property—is being conducted on a regular basis in support of animal rights causes. A report to Congress several years ago found hundreds of these "terrorist" acts, and there's even a federal law, the Animal Enterprise Protection Act of 1992 [ed. note: amended by the Animal Enterprise Terrorism Act of 2006], that was enacted to prevent them. (Most states have similar laws.)
I've never met anyone who admitted to being an animal rights terrorist. If I did, though, I think I'd like them. For the most part these must be dedicated and brave individuals who have the vision of a better world for animals and humans. They are willing to act on behalf of their passions, and willing to help the suffering and the downtrodden despite the personal risks involved. I have to admire that.
Of course I also think their actions are stupid and wrong.
Terrorism, even for the most noble of causes, was stupid and wrong before September 11, and it's even more stupid and wrong now. Here's why:
Violence is inherently antithetical to what we stand for. You can't simultaneously condemn violence and practice it. And you can't harm one animal (people) to save another without looking like a hypocrite.
The ends don't justify the means. Sure, the people who harm animals for pleasure and/or profit promote terror themselves. They do it every day, and on an incomprehensively massive scale. But it is dangerous to say that a little bit of evil perpetrated against them is justified by the greater good it would accomplish. Where do you draw the line? Whose standards do you use?

Just remember, everyone who exploits animals uses the same dubious logic—"the ends justify the means"—to support their actions. We know it's not true for them. It's not true for us either.
Most of all, violence makes animal rights activists, and their cause, easy targets. People are inherently fearful of new ideas. They'd much rather have an excuse to dismiss an idea outright than go to the trouble of actually educating themselves and formulating a position. Every time an act of violence (or even just something dumb) is committed in the name of animal rights it gives the public the opportunity to dismiss the whole movement and everyone in it—from the Animal Liberation Front to the cat lady next door—as "a bunch of fanatics." Why give them that opportunity?

Of course everything I've said above is doubly true after the hideous events of September 11. There's little tolerance in our society for anything even remotely looking like terrorism, and average folks won't distinguish violence committed in the name of Islamic fundamentalism from violence committed in the name of animal rights (an equally unknown cause). Why should they?
(If you don't believe that people will gladly equate folks who free research animals with folks who hijack planes and fly them into buildings full of people, it's not hard to find hundreds of postings to that effect on Internet bulletin boards. Better yet, look at the mainstream press. In the past few weeks the New York Times, USA Today and the Guardian (UK) (just to name a few) have published articles making exactly that comparison.)
Lest anyone get the wrong idea about my caution against violence and lawlessness, I freely admit that there's lots of gray area here. Lurking in that gray area are many difficult questions that I, for one, can't answer: Is violence okay in pursuit of terrorists? What about that Hitler question? What about civil disobedience against unjust laws?? How do you keep from tearing the door off the cage when it's right in front of you and a helpless animal is staring out???
In our society we have the right of free speech, and the responsibility to exercise it liberally. No one who believes in animal rights, vegetarianism, or related causes should be shy about expressing his or her beliefs. We should make speeches, carry signs, and generally do what we can to get in people's faces and (more importantly) their minds. No one who ventures out onto a public sidewalk or street in America has the right to be sheltered from the ideas of others, no matter how offensive those ideas may be. Thank God (and folks named Jefferson, Adams and Washington) for that. And of course no one has a right to be sheltered from the consequences of their own actions. (If they want to eat chickens, by golly they should have to look the chickens in the eye first!)
But let's refrain from doing things that are dumb, antisocial, and most of all violent. Our causes are too important for us to be summarily dismissed as "wackos," "fanatics," "anti-human," or "terrorists." Why let people who are abusing animals off the hook so easily? Instead, let's be accessible and inviting to the mainstream public. Let's not take ourselves too seriously. And instead of violence let's inundate them with civility, articulate arguments, scientific fact and, most of all, truth.
The animals we want to help deserve no less from us.

On Violence [1986 original column]

2010-03-24T09:07:00.002-06:00

When is violence, or other illegal activity, justified in support of a worthwhile cause? The question seems too easy. "Never," we might be tempted to respond. Violence is inherently bad and shouldn't be condoned under any circumstances. There are better ways to accomplish things.

Giving the question more thought, though, you might find that such a simplistic answer can't fit all circumstances. Suppose, for example, you found yourself in Germany during the Nazi regime. If by killing one Nazi guard you could liberate hundreds of people destined for the gas chambers, wouldn't that violence be justified? Many of us would say yes. In that situation the lesser of two evils would be done. Thus, in some cases a particular act of violence may be acceptable as a means of preventing a greater violence.

That brings us to the issue of vegetarianism. I personally have never heard anyone seriously advocate violence in support of the vegetarian cause. On the other hand, I question just how different our situation is from the Nazi Germany hypothetical I just gave. Haven't most of us felt some measure of glee and support when we've read the occasional news articles about animal rights groups breaking into laboratories and freeing caged animals? Wouldn't we secretly love to see vegetarian messages spray painted on the side of our local McDonald's, warning signs put up at the Safeway meat counter, or distributor caps stolen off of cattle transport trucks? (Would we or wouldn't we like to see slaughterhouses and laboratories blown up?)

Despite the satisfaction that it might give us, I don't think violence in support of vegetarianism is right. I feel strongly that it isn't the right thing to do now, but I'm not prepared to say that this will always be the case. Right now the vegetarian movement is too small and too fragmented. We simply haven't done an effective job of making the public aware of what we are saying. Thus, while violence certainly would call attention to the vegetarian cause, the message might be lost on most people.

Take, for example, the recent bombings of abortion clinics. In the minds of those who take a "pro-life" position, this violence is justified because it may prevent future violence (they might say it would prevent the "murder of babies"). But opponents of the pro-life movement, and most of the public at large, see only the violent and illegal act of the bombing. To them there is no greater evil that is prevented.

The analogy is much the same for violence in support of vegetarianism. If a slaughterhouse were bombed, for example, I'm afraid most people would see the violence done and overlook the violence prevented. As with abortions, most of the public-at-large doesn't view slaughterhouses as good, but does view them as necessary to prevent the perceived greater evil of doing without meat.

To me, then, acts of violence by vegetarians will only bring our movement negative publicity and create a negative image of vegetarians, at least until we are successful in educating the public that vegetarianism reduces the unnecessary and senseless violence that is already prevalent in our society as an inherent part of the meat industry. The Catch 22 is that once that job of education is done, I would hope our goals would be more readily accomplished without violence.

One more factor dictates against the use of violence. Vegetarianism is inherently non-violent. Even if we could achieve a vegetarian world through the use of controlled violence, we might not achieve the goal we originally sought. Many in the vegetarian movement, for example, believe that aggression against animals necessarily leads to other forms of violence in our society. If this is true—if violence is pervasive once let in the door—we risk the possibility that the ends of the vegetarian movement may reflect the means, and it behooves us to be true to those means.

I hate violence. And intellectually I know it would be bad for vegetarianism. But I have to admit there's an aggressive and revengeful side to my personality too. I just can't help thinking that someday, before I die, it sure might be fun to see a spray painted McDonald's!

Those Awkward Moments of Confession

2010-03-12T15:20:00.001-07:00

There are many moments in the lives of us vegetarians that turn out to be, well, just plain awkward. It's dealing with omnivores that's the problem, of course. Let's face it, nobody ever said it was easy to be enlightened in a world full of dunces. (We can just imagine how awkward it must have been for those few, brave and visionary souls who prophesized—before anyone else knew the truth—that the world was round, that diseases were caused by germs, that Nixon was a crook, and that O.J. was innocent!)

For me, one of the awkward moments that keeps coming up over and over again is when I have to make the big confession to someone I've just met that my diet doesn't include the various items of muscle tissue, glandular secretions and reproductive matter that most people love to eat. It's always a shock to them, and it's always uncomfortable for me. I have to believe lots of other vegetarians must have this same problem.

Of course, awkward moments of confession are always worst when we have something riding on the underlying relationship. Consider, for example, these classic conversations:

Love

"Sally, I haven't known you that long, but already I can sense that we have something very special between us."

"You really feel that way Jason?"

"Yes I do. And I think we should start planning now for a blissful life together."

"Oh, Jason, that's wonderful! But I have to tell you that I'm a vegetarian. That's okay, isn't it?"

"Vegetarian???"

"Yes. You don't mind, do you? We could have beautiful little home, with a vegetarian kitchen, and vegetarian children, and a vegetarian dog. And every morning I'll fix you a delicious tofu and seaweed scramble, and a big glass of sprout juice—"

"Sally..."

"Yes, dearest?"

"…Have I ever told you about my several sexually-transmitted diseases?"

Jobs

"Farnsworth, speaking as President of Boxcar Industries, I have to say that a young man of your talents could go far in our organization. That's why I wanted to meet you here at Charlie's Steakhouse to have dinner and discuss your future."

"Thank you, Mr. Rumphorst!"

"And by the way, don't even think of ordering anything but the New York Strip here. It's fabulous, and is the absolute favorite of everyone on our Board. Yes, it's time you joined our little club, my son!"

"Oh, …gee. Actually, I think I may have to order the steamed vegetable plate..."

"Hrumpf. [pregnant pause] Farnsworth, you're really pretty much of an idiot, aren't you? As I was saying, we may have an opening in the mailroom. I'll have my secretary get back to you on that."

In-Laws

"So, you're Michael! You know, when you eloped with our Ashleigh we were pretty upset, but now all that matters is that we have you both home for the holidays."

"Thanks Mrs. Pillbottom!"

"Tonight we're having pot roast for dinner, and tomorrow I'm going to fix lamb chops—Ashleigh's favorite!"

"Actually, Mrs. Pillbottom, I'm a life-long vegetarian, and since we've been married Ashleigh has decided to go vegetarian too."

"Oh, I see. Michael, come out to the garage and help me with something, would you dear?"

"Sure Mrs. Pillbottom. …Gee, Mrs. Pillbottom, why are you starting the car? You know that's not very safe in a closed garage. …Mrs. Pillbottom, did you know you locked your keys in the running car? Where are you going Mrs. Pillbottom? Mrs. Pillbottom, you seem to have locked the door behind you. I'm sure it's all a mistake, but it's getting kind of cloudy in here, Mrs. Pillbottom. …Mrs. Pillbottom???"

Well, as you can see, these are all awkward moments for both the vegetarians and meat-eaters involved. So, how can we handle these situations better when they present themselves in the future? My suggestion is to be aggressive. Yes, I for one am tired of apologizing to people for my vegetarianism. It's the thing that I'm the most proud of in my life, and I've decided to flaunt it rather than be sorry for it. I think all vegetarians should take this approach.

Imagine how the situations above could be different with just a slight change in attitude:

"Oh Jason, I want to be with you too! But I want us to go through life as vegetarians. You know what that means Jason? More happy years together, better health, better breath, and better sex. Think of it Jason, sex all the time!"

"Mr. Rumphorst, I want you to know I'm a vegetarian, and I want you to understand what that can mean for the success of Boxcar Industries. It means I'm not afraid to be my own man, Mr. Rumphorst. It means that I think for myself and act decisively. That's the kind of man you need, Mr. Rumphorst. Yes, I've got my eye on that Executive Vice President's office next to yours, and you'd be crazy not to give it to me!"

"Mrs. Pillbottom, I want you to consider what vegetarianism can do for your daughter's future. Why, think of the money we'll save on food! Think how much healthier and more energetic we'll be when you and Mr. Pillbottom start drooling on yourselves and we have to take care of you! Put down that knife Mrs. Pillbottom, and stop being silly. You're going to like this, Mrs. Pillbottom. Trust me."

Yes, it's pretty clear from these examples that life can be better for us vegetarians if we're aggressive, confident, and blatantly self-righteous in our dealings with meat-eaters. Try it—I think you you'll like it. And the next time you find yourself in a locked garage with the power off and the car running, you'll be at peace. You'll be happy knowing you asserted yourself.

Successful Vegetarian Dating (Ha!)

2010-03-03T10:27:00.002-07:00

Many, many years ago in this very space I wrote a column called The Great Vegetarian Dating Game, in which I bemoaned my experiences dating meat-eaters, semi-vegetarians, and even fellow vegetarians. I concluded that one might be able to find the perfect mate from any of these groups. On the other hand, there were plenty of good reasons why one might not.

Since writing that first column a lot has happened to me. I married a wonderful vegetarian woman, had a sadly less-than-wonderful marriage, and then found myself single again—this time in a strange new century! Now that I'm older and wiser (all right, I'm just older) I figure it's time to bemoan again, and to update my original column with advice for those who might be dating in the new millennium. Here's what I've learned so far in my brief foray into this modern world of romance…

Everyone is Online! Without a doubt, the biggest change in the dating world in the last several hundred years must be the fact that it's all done online now. This isn't just another option that people have for finding someone—it's the only option. Everyone, it seems, is too busy to go out on real dates anymore. With the computer, single people can accumulate multiple paramours (one woman proudly confided to me that she had vast numbers of "strategically placed men") and keep them happy indefinitely with form-letter emails. Of course you can't gage "chemistry" over the computer, but that doesn't really matter. Nobody ever actually meets anyone. And of course virtual dating has many advantages over the traditional method. It's easy to lie about your qualities (I know a guy who digitally doctors his photos before sending them out), you never get weird diseases, and dumping a person is as easy as hitting the delete key.
For vegetarians, online dating is especially exciting. First, we can go to the big dating sites, where we can instantly search a huge database of potential mates for the word "vegetarian." That will reveal to us that, out of millions of single people with computers around the world, three of them share our dietary preferences (while an additional 87 say that they are specifically not interested in vegetarians). A similar search on the word "vegan" reveals that there are 518 people in the database from Las Vegas!
Dating sites that specifically cater to vegetarians are perhaps more promising. Here, as a friend of mine puts it, the odds are good, but unfortunately the goods may tend to be a bit odd. Good luck.
The Universal Experience As bad as dating on the Internet is, it can be even worse in the real world. The first thing I notice when I take my search for a potential mate off-line is the universal experience shared by all single people over 30: "I can't meet anyone!" It doesn't seem to matter whether you are male or female, straight or gay, veggie or meat-addicted, the perception is always the same: anyone you come across who might otherwise be the slightest bit appropriate is already taken. I can't tell you how many parties I've been to where I end up with a group of men standing around the kitchen, grousing about the lack of single women. When I got divorced my friend Ray (also recently divorced, so he knows about these things) gave me a bottle of malt liquor and a paper cutout of a Barbie doll with the words "…for those lonely nights" written across it. How right he was.
The Power of Dogs? People I respect a lot tell me that the way around the "I can't meet anyone" problem is to get a dog. Dogs are "chick magnets" my friends say. Having a dog at your side not only makes you seem instantly likable (ax murderers don't have pets?), but dogs can also be trained to "accidentally" slip out of your grip and run over to people you find attractive. Most importantly, when you eventually strike out, dogs are always there to make you feel less like a loser.
I don't really want a dog, but I would like to check out this phenomenon. If I can borrow your basset hound sometime for a spin around the park, let me know.
Fatal Flaws (of the dietary variety) People are always asking me if I could ever date a meat-eater. "Sure," I tell them, "but only if we otherwise had a lot in common." It's true too. But then again, I suppose if we had a lot of other things in common I might not expect her to be a meat-eater for long. Of course that doesn't reflect reality. It's just my fantasy of a way to save the world: one date at a time.
My father constantly tells me I'll never get anyone interested in me as long as I'm a vegetarian. He's probably right. As strange as it seems, I think it's much more difficult for a meat-eater to be happy with a vegetarian than the other way around. I don't blame them a bit. If you're addicted to meat and dairy products and want to use those things on a regular basis, it must be a real drag to hang around with someone who finds that behavior unhealthy, gross and/or immoral. One woman I met told me outright that she had no intention of giving up meat, and that she considered my vegetarianism to be a fatal flaw that would prevent us from ever having any kind of a romantic relationship. Oh well—at least she was honest!
Finding a great relationship is tough for just about everyone. But I think it's especially difficult for us vegetarians. I keep telling myself not to despair though. There must be someone out there who can appreciate a fellow with a healthy diet, who's kind to animals and to the environment as well. That seems like a pretty good package to me—even if it does include having to put up with a weirdo vegetarian.

The Great Vegetarian Dating Game

2010-02-22T10:22:00.002-07:00

If I become a vegetarian won't my love life be ruined?

Yeah...Maybe.

So, you're single and you've decided to become a vegetarian? Congratulations! Your field of potential mates has just been reduced by 90%.

Oh, the joys of being a single vegetarian! The good news for you single folks who decide to become vegetarian is that you'll be healthier because of it. Vegetarians are known for their good skin, trim bodies, etc. Not to mention their energy and stamina—assets that can make you legendary in the romance game. The other good news for single vegetarians is that you can date anyone you want: meat-eaters, semi-vegetarians, or vegetarians. Each of these groups has a lot to offer in the search for a potential mate. The bad news is that all three of these groups present some real challenges as well.

With that in mind it's time to play The Great Vegetarian Dating Game. Let's open that first door and see who we find.

Bachelor/Bachelorette No.1—The Meat-Eater

When you're a vegetarian the advantage to dating meat-eaters should be obvious: just like cockroaches and dandelions, you'll find them everywhere. The odds are good that the blonde at the bus stop or the macho hunk you've been eyeing at the water cooler doesn't share your vegetarian philosophy. But if you find them attractive you'd like to be able to go out on a date without having to grill them in advance about their eating preferences. Now, that's all well and good until the problems arise. And they will arise.

The Big Confession

The first obstacle you will have to overcome is explaining to your meat-eating date why you are a vegetarian. Since you'll probably be eating on your first date, the chances are good The Big Confession will come early. If you want to make it to date number two, you'd better handle it well. The best advice is to do it in a way that minimizes the differences between the two of you, and makes it seem very acceptable that both of you are the way you are. This is no time to use your conversion tactics. As we'll see below, that comes later.

(I, of course, always took the coward's way out when dating meat-eaters. I would invite the woman in question over for dinner. That way I could control the food, and I didn't even have to point out that it was vegetarian. This little trick was usually good to delay The Big Confession until our next time together. Given my luck with women, I often didn't have to worry about when that would be.)

The Barbed Wire Fence

Let's say you make it past The Big Confession and find that you and your meat-eating friend are getting along just great. In fact, you are really starting to like each other. Uh-oh. That means you are just about to hit the next obstacle—The Barbed Wire Fence. This is when you and the meat-eater start to throw little barbs at one another about your respective diets. At first it will all be good-natured, and you might even see it as a sign that you are feeling more comfortable with each other. You'll have this conversation over dinner:

"Hey meathead, want to try a bite of my buckwheat noodles in miso broth?"

"No thanks, tofu face. I prefer to eat food."

As time goes on, however, both of you will get more serious about your barbs, and The Barbed Wire Fence will become more annoying. It will come to a head the night your date takes you to dinner at his or her parents' house. Afterwards you'll have this little discussion:

"You didn't eat any of my mother's chicken."

"Come on, you know I don't eat that—I'm a vegetarian."

"Well, it would have been the polite thing to do, you know. She was nice enough to invite you to dinner."

"I'll die before I'm that polite."

The Meatball Sub

With every romantic relationship come instances of aesthetic disappointment. There is the time, for example, when you find out that some of her best assets only exist thanks to the miracle of space-age plastics, or the day when you discover that he's been wearing the same jockey shorts for two months. Since the meat-eating culture is inherently un-aesthetic to many vegetarians, there is even more potential here for friction between you and your meat-eating date. For example, you may have trouble snuggling up to his leather jacket or her fur coat, or maybe you'll be grossed out the first time you find your date has left the remains of a Big Mac in your refrigerator.

My meat-eating girlfriend and I were crazy about each other, and we'd been getting along well until that fateful day when she had to have The Meatball Sub for lunch. Yuck! After she finished she looked up and said, "Kiss me!"

I looked at her, the grease still dripping down her chin, and hesitated. "I think I'll take a rain check," I said. I handed her a napkin, and our relationship was never the same again.

Of course The Big Confession, The Barbed Wire Fence, and The Meatball Sub are all manifestations of the same problem: vegetarians and meat-eaters have a major philosophical difference between them. Physical attraction can be wonderful, and maybe they'll even have a number of common interests, but these things can wear thin when two people disagree about something as basic as food. Most folks eat three meals a day. When a vegetarian is with a meat-eater that creates three golden opportunities to fight.

We hear a lot about "mixed" marriages of vegetarians and meat-eaters, and I've known several such couples myself. They are all wonderful people. They have to be. For many less tolerant vegetarian souls, though, looking for Mr./Miss/Ms. Right from the ranks of meat-eaters can be frustrating at best. At worst, it can keep them looking for a long, long time. Sure, Bachelor/Bachelorette No.1 is great for the vegetarian who needs someone with a good smile to take to his or her high school reunion. For more serious relationships, though, there must be other choices.

Bachelor/Bachelorette No.2—The Semi-Vegetarian

Undaunted by our experience with inter-diet dating, we continue to play The Great Vegetarian Dating Game. This time we'll meet Bachelor/Bachelorette No.2—The semi-vegetarian. The prospective dates in this group are all those who have "just about given up red meat", or who feel they "really should be a vegetarian". In short, this is everyone sympathetic to the cause who hasn't yet changed his or her lifestyle to vegetarianism.

Theoretically, this group should provide an ideal hunting ground for the single vegetarian. There are plenty of people around who fall into the semi-vegetarian category, and because they are already sympathetic to vegetarianism the potential for fireworks (of the bad kind) may not be as great as with a confirmed meat-eater. Unfortunately, things are never as easy as they seem.

The Prickly Hedge

If The Barbed Wire Fence describes the obstacle between vegetarians and meat-eaters, then between vegetarians and semi-vegetarians it's more like The Prickly Hedge—not as high or as sharp, but potentially even more deadly to a long-term relationship. The reason is that the semi-vegetarian will be receptive to the vegetarian's lifestyle, but the committed vegetarian won't be able to return that receptivity. It will always be the vegetarian's inflexible diet, for example, that dictates mutual food choices. And the barbs, however subtle and unintended they may be, are likely to continue from vegetarian to semi-vegetarian. The semi-vegetarian who, for whatever reason, isn't ready to convert is likely to feel oppressed in this situation. Not the best thing on which to base a relationship.

The Phony Conversion

What about the semi-vegetarian who falls in love and decides to convert to vegetarianism? Well, that's great if he or she is really ready for the conversion—go straight to Bachelor/Bachelorette No.3. But if the conversion is prompted more out of guilt, or a desire to please the vegetarian, it isn't likely to last long. It may just lead to more feelings of oppression (and the overwhelming desire on the part of the semi-vegetarian to end the relationship so he or she can finally get a decent—i.e., "beastly"—meal again)!

The Big Tease

Let's not forget the feelings of the vegetarian in all this. If you are dating a semi-vegetarian you will likely be very excited by the possibility of converting him or her to a vegetarian lifestyle. If it doesn't work out, The Big Tease can be emotionally devastating. You might even be tempted to go back to Bachelor/Bachelorette No.1. At least with a confirmed meat-eater you knew where you stood from the beginning.

Bachelor/Bachelorette No.3—The Vegetarian

When he or she has been going out with meat-eaters and even semi-vegetarians, your average veggie might be amazed at how easy it is to date a fellow vegetarian:

"I just love Tom's Tasty Tofu Emporium."

"Really? Gee, that's my favorite restaurant too!"

Then again, sometimes it won't be so easy, and both parties will end up asking themselves: did I expect too much? Do vegetarians really do it better? Does the heart really lie just behind the stomach?

Under Every Stone

There is a problem most veggies will encounter right away in trying to date a fellow vegetarian—finding one. Let's face it, we don't meet that many real vegetarians in our day-to-day lives, and those we do meet may not exactly be the Greek gods or goddesses of our dreams. Vegetarian and related organizations can help a lot in the search. (Sometimes having a "cause" can do wonders for a person's social life!) But don't count on this. In most cases you can expect the hunt to be a lot of work, and don't expect success overnight. While there may indeed be a vegetarian Under Every Stone, it's turning those stones over that's the hard part.

The Three Points of Disagreement

If you are persistent and a little lucky you will eventually find a vegetarian you actually want to date (and even more important, who wants to date you). Now, since you won't have all the problems you encountered with meat-eaters and semi-vegetarians, you and Bachelor/Bachelorette No.3 have it made, right? Wrong.

Vegetarians are such a diverse group that you can't rule out the possibility of serious compatibility problems arising. Indeed, after years of painstaking research (note the emphasis on painstaking), I've isolated three potential areas of disagreement between vegetarian couples:

1. their reasons for being vegetarian

2. their diets

3. everything else.

An example might be beneficial. Suppose you've got an evening scheduled with your new vegetarian friend. Both of you are really looking forward to it. The problem is that your date is planning on eating a raw vegetable salad and being in bed (and asleep!) by 10. It seems that he or she has to get up early to train for the Boston Marathon. You, on the other hand, envisioned staying up late over coffee, smoking cigarettes and planning your next animal rights march. You've got problems already, and you don't even know yet if you both like Clint Eastwood films.

When it's all said and done a vegetarian will probably encounter many of the same problems whether he or she is dating another vegetarian, a semi-vegetarian, or a meat-eater. In The Great Vegetarian Dating Game what really counts, of course, are the individuals involved. With a little persistence and some measure of tolerance any vegetarian should be able to find Mr./Miss/Ms. Right, whether he or she is Bachelor/Bachelorette Nos. 1, 2, or 3. So just keep playing The Great Vegetarian Dating Game and happiness awaits you.

Well... maybe if you're real lucky.

The Latest News from the Exciting World of Meat

2010-02-07T11:35:00.002-07:00

It's time once again to check in with all those fun folks out there who are selling and eating meat. Yes, like a cleaver striking home in a fat-laden pork roast, the meat industry and its customers are always on the cutting-edge of science, lifestyle and ethical behavior. We meager vegetarians can learn a lot! Here's the latest news…

Weenie Wars in the Midwest— Claiming the record for the "world's longest hot dog," the Vienna Beef Company unveiled a 37-foot, 2-inch weenie at the Taste of Chicago festival to celebrate the start of "National Hot Dog Month." The giant frank (gosh, I'm glad my name isn't Frank) was topped with, among other things, a gallon of mustard, a gallon of "bright green" relish, and 4 pounds of chopped onion.

Not to be outdone, a mere 2 days later the fine folks in Campbellsport, Wisconsin (a town 50 miles north of Milwaukee, where apparently they have nothing better to do) grilled a 48-foot-long bratwurst. This fine collection of ground snouts and ears (remember, they don't call it "wurst" for nothing) was paraded through town on a flatbed semi-trailer with police escort and a high school marching band (how sanitary!) before being eaten by townspeople in 160 portions. According to the Associated Press, it was topped with 400 ounces of ketchup and mustard, four gallons of relish (color not specified) and "more than a pound" of onions.

While the drama of a "who's got the biggest sausage" competition between the mighty city of Chicago and a small town to the north is certainly compelling, one has to agree that the burning social question that emerges from these stories is why are the people of Campbellsport so chintzy with their onions? (A measly 1/10^th of an ounce per serving!) Are they more concerned than Chicagoans about their breath, or was it just that they didn't have any more onions in town?

The "McToad" Salad— Here at On of Off the Mark headquarters we're always excited to find new salad bar items. The latest comes from Dorinda McCann of Hanson, Massachusetts, who found a live, two-inch-long toad in a takeout salad bought at her local McDonald's restaurant. Evidently Ms. McCann didn't fully appreciate the extra protein and exotic new taste the McToad salad offered. "I was sick," she told local reporters. "What if I had salmonella poisoning?"

These stories about toads, worms, human fingers, etc. in the food seem to come out of the fast-food restaurants all the time. The kids with minimum-wage summer jobs at these places must have a good sense of humor. And of course we vegetarians find it all rather droll. After all, is there really that much difference between these things and the "food" these restaurants intentionally sell (yeah, lots of those snouts and ears, not to mention dead chickens that are almost always laced with salmonella)? All we can say is, don't take yourself so seriously, Ms. McCann! Go with the flow! If you're going to be a carnivore, dang-it, be a carnivore, and enjoy the variety the meat-eating world has to offer! You wouldn't want your cat calling you a wimp, would you?

Civilized Behavior Abounds— According to a recent study done by UC Berkeley anthropology Professor Katharine Milton, the addition of meat into our early ancestors' diet was a crucial catalyst for human development and evolution. I know this theory must be true, because everywhere one looks in our society today meat-eating is inspiring human civilization to new heights. Just take the average TV commercial for a "meat-lovers supreme" pizza, for example (racially-diverse group of young men eat giant pizza topped with 12 pounds of ground beef in messy apartment, while good-naturedly competing against one another in video games). You know they're appealing to advanced thinkers. And one need only watch the Tribal Council's maggot-eating contest on reality television's Survivor 17: New Jersey to realize we've advanced the arts just about as far as they will go.

If you need more proof, consider these fine examples from the recent past:

Nationally-renowned barbecue champion Paul Kirk had his van and an attached $18,000 custom-made grill (!) stolen in Roeland Park, Missouri. Also gone were several chickens, a half-dozen slabs of ribs and a dozen pounds of brisket. The van and grill were recovered three days later, but there was no sign of the meat. The national media reported that the thief was "no vegetarian."
A worker at a meatpacking plant in Kansas City, Kansas killed five fellow employees and wounded two others before committing suicide.
Research at the University of North Carolina showed that more than three-quarters of "red snapper" samples from eight states turned out to be different, cheaper species of fish. Not only did this cheat consumers by several dollars per pound, but the researchers noted that product mislabeling distorts the status of fish stocks, contributing to a false impression that they are keeping up with demand. Seafood industry executives called the study "overblown."
Two concrete pig statues were stolen from Mary and Bobby Romine of Gallatin, Tennessee. A ransom note signed "the big bad wolf" was left at the site of the abduction. A day later, the Romines received a fried pork chop and a second note that read, "Cooked the pig."
The summer fad among young people at one sandbar location in the Florida Keys was to skewer themselves with meat hooks and dangle from a bamboo tripod. While Coast Guard officials were initially concerned, they found that the practitioners were already heavily pierced and tattooed, and were simply enjoying the afternoon. "It looked like a daily routine for them," a Coast Guard spokesperson said.
Yup, whether we're eating the stuff, or simply trying to "hang" with it, meat really brings out the best in all of us!

Teenagers Poisoning Themselves (…and other things society considers “cool”)

2010-01-30T22:27:00.001-07:00

The two teenagers in front of me in the checkout line must have been hungry. They stood there looking out of place—scruffy facial hair, untucked shirts, hands in the pockets of their baggy jeans—until they reached the front of the line and started pulling things out of their cart. A twelve-pack of Mountain Dew, two loaves of Wonder Bread, lots of American cheese, mayonnaise, a jar of Velveeta…

I stood there with my asparagus, green pepper and potatoes, feeling more horrified with each thing they put on the conveyor. "No meat?" I wondered. "They must be buying meat, too." Sure enough, a second later the teenagers fished several packages of luncheon meats out of the bottom of their cart. (Funny how we can predict these things, huh?)

My first reaction on seeing these kids was to wonder how they could survive—how anyone could survive—on such a diet, even for one day. No fruits, no vegetables, no whole grains. What would these people look like in 30 years? Would they even live another 30 years? Shouldn't there be a law against destroying healthy young bodies?

Then I remembered what my diet was like when I was a teenager. I lived for fast food. When I "cooked" it was most likely a box of Kraft macaroni and cheese—add a couple of hot dogs and extra cheese, please. And what point was there in buying anything smaller than half a gallon of ice cream?

One Saturday a buddy and I decided to take a long hike down the railroad tracks. (I'm pretty sure this event was the inspiration for the Stephen King book and movie Stand by Me, but I digress.) What did we take to sustain us on our arduous journey? Vienna sausage, of course. Lots of those tiny cans of Vienna sausage.

When you think about it, it isn't surprising that teenagers have terrible diets. First they start with the terrible diets of their parents. Add to that, years of fast-food "Happy Meals" (i.e., being rewarded with toys for eating things that are bad for them), a decade of dreadful school lunches planned to appease the meat and dairy lobbies, and thousands of hours of celebrity-laden TV ads for processed foods loaded with fat and sugar. It's small wonder that when teens start shopping for themselves, the things that go into their grocery carts are pretty darned toxic. It's small wonder that each generation of teenagers eats a little worse than the previous one.

Of course, when you think you're going to live forever, unhealthy things are "cool." (I love that word; it was even "cool" when I was a kid!) Things advertised by the latest celebrities, especially with tie-ins to big sports events and movies, are "cool" too. Somehow, carrots and grapefruits just don't have quite the same pizzazz.

It doesn't have to be this way. I'm convinced that with a little creativity there are some things we can do to reverse this trend and make vegetarianism even "cooler" than eating the toxic stuff. Of course that means delving into the "popest" of pop culture and, in some instances, catering to the most vile and decadent of human desires. (Hey, isn't that what advertising is all about?) If we're willing to so delve and cater, here are my suggestions:

Make the Nike "swoosh" the first letter of "vegetarian." (Then the slogan "just do it" might really mean something!)
Convince Britney Spears to abstain from meat rather than sex.
Hire Michael Jordan to do a banana commercial.
Hire Mike Tyson to advertise for Tyson Foods.
Find anti-vegetarian literature in an al Qaeda cave.
Make the contestants on Survivor eat Brussels sprouts.
Have John McDougall beat up Robert Atkins in a special pay-per-view grudge match sponsored by the World Wrestling Federation.
Give out "Bobble-head Gandhi" dolls with the purchase of a Veggie Whopper at Burger King.
Get to kids early with a Sesame Street character named Freddy Fiber, who takes an imaginary journey through their intestines and teaches good colonic hygiene.
Make lima beans an official sponsor of the annual Sturgis Harley-Davidson rally.
Have Steven Spielberg make the blockbuster film Geriatric Park, about vegetarian octogenarians who terrorize meat-eaters visiting their retirement home.
Have Steven Spielberg make the blockbuster film Groceries' List, about adorable vegetarian dinosaurs held in an alien concentration camp in space.
Develop action games for Nintendo, Xbox and PlayStation featuring our favorite vegetarian superhero, the Veggie Avenger.
Launch a massive advertising campaign emphasizing that "vegetarian food comes from plants—just like tobacco and beer!"
Package broccoli in cigarette cartons.
Print and distribute millions of bumper stickers that say, "Vegetarians have inner peas."
Open "Weed Eaters," a franchised chain of drive-through salad bar restaurants.
Yeah, in the great scheme of things I'm convinced that vegetarianism (and even we stuffy vegetarians!) can be as "cool" as we want. All it will take is a slight moral compromise, huge amounts of money, and the right public relations people.
Maybe the first thing we should do is hire those two kids from the grocery store line as technical consultants.

Putting the “Carne” Back Into Reincarnation

2010-01-18T09:36:00.002-07:00

Could there be a meat-eater in your future? Could it be you?

I just finished reading a book about an incredible young woman who, under hypnosis, can remember in intimate detail many of her 86 past lives. Wow! I can't even remember what happened yesterday.

The book, Many Lives, Many Masters, was written by the woman's psychiatrist Brian L. Weiss, and he thought it would be "comforting" for people to know that their soul lives on after death through reincarnation. According to the author (and his patient) we learn new lessons in each of our lives. In between, we hang out for a while in a murky spiritual world with a bunch of old dudes called "Masters," who spout off helpful platitudes of new-age wisdom. When we've finally learned enough, we move on to the next "level," wherever and whatever that may be.

Well I, for one, am not particularly "comforted" by this idea of reincarnation. The idea of suffering through 85 or so more lives sounds pretty darned tedious. (I've been awfully lucky in this life, and I figure the odds won't be so good in the future.) Dying that many times doesn't hold a lot of appeal to me either. (Like Woody Allen, I don't mind dying; I just don't want to be there when it happens.) And then there's that one awful, nagging question: Suppose I come back as a meat-eater?!

I know a number of people who strongly believe in reincarnation. A few of them have even told me that, because of my ethical veganism, I must already be at an advanced stage—nearly ready to move on to that coveted next "level."

These people obviously don't know me very well. In reality, I feel more like Albert Brooks' character in the terrific movie about reincarnation, Defending Your Life. Like him, I'm filled with neurotic fears and anxieties, and much more likely, I think, to be kicked out of the universe entirely than to be promoted to any higher plane. With my luck, I'm destined to spend my next 85 lives as a slaughterhouse worker, or the dorky kid with the bad acne behind the counter of the local hamburger joint. Doesn't that sound delightful!

Okay, I shouldn't make fun of anyone in the meat industry here, because maybe—just maybe—it wouldn't be so bad to be reincarnated as a meat-eater. Indeed, I've spoken with many ethical vegetarians who have said—not entirely in jest—that they wished they could be like everyone else and "not get" the connection between meat-eating and disease, suffering and environmental degradation. Maybe reincarnation is a way to do that. Maybe as we learn more from our past lives and from the "Masters," we'll lead our future lives blissfully chomping down corn-dogs without a concern in the world. And maybe, after a few lives of that, we'll then move on to the next "level," where we'll all be rewarded by being able to eat as much meat as we want without ever getting heart disease, or even fat.

I hope reincarnation doesn't really happen. After I die, I'd much rather go live on a cloud somewhere for eternity, playing golf with St. Peter and having someone serve me peeled grapes and single-malt Scotch. If reincarnation does happen, though, vegetarians should fare pretty well. I think there's a darned good chance that one of those things we have to learn before we can move forward is that eating by the Golden Rule will take us to a higher spiritual place. I hope we vegetarians have already learned that lesson in this lifetime.

If I'm reincarnated, I want to go to a world where we get our energy directly from the nearest star and our nutrients directly from the ground, without having to kill anything for "food." If that doesn't work, I want my next life to be way out in the future, when everyone has decided to adopt a vegan diet and they've finally stopped showing reruns of Friends. If I can't have either of those choices, I guess I'll have to give in to the forces of the universe. In that case, I want to be a dog living in some gorgeous mansion in Beverly Hills. I'll sleep most of the day, be lazy all the time, and scarf down scraps of ham and roast beef from the table. Yeah, I'll be a meat-eater, but that's okay. The "Masters" will be happy, and at least I won't know the difference.

It’s an Odd World Out There

2010-01-09T06:45:00.002-07:00

The other day a friend of mine pointed out that we humans spend most of our lives trying to make sense out of things that defy rationalization. It's our little way of trying to assert some control over our inherently uncontrollable lives. I'd never thought about it that way before, but I guess I have to agree. The need to make sense of things would seem to explain everything from science to Hollywood's happy endings.

Of course nothing makes less sense, and defies rationalization more, than the world of animal agriculture and meat eating. The craziness of it, and the way we vegetarians relate to it, never ceases to amaze me. Here are some of the things I've seen in the last few weeks that have left me dumbfounded.

If we call it "organic" it's sure to sell

In a move that is sure to take the motoring world by storm, the automaker Audi has announced that all the leather they use in their cars is "organically tanned." But what does that mean, exactly? Do they just put their leather seats out in the sun? Is "organically-tanned" leather supposed to be safer or more environmentally-friendly than the pesticide-laden leather other car makers presumably use? Wouldn't Audi's efforts be better spent just making cars that get decent gas mileage? If automobiles are going "organic," will microwave ovens and toilet paper be next?

If we call it "free-range" it's sure to sell

In North Carolina, money from the tobacco settlement is funding the raising of "free range pork." I'm not sure what the connection is between tobacco and meat (other than they are both unhealthy and addictive as all get out), but I suppose one good vice always supports another. In any event, farmers say that consumers prefer the taste of this meat because of greater "intramuscular fat" than on factory-farmed animals.

It should be noted that these are rich farmers. Supposedly, demand for the "free range pork" is so strong they can make a profit of $2,200 per hog. (Wow! I somehow don't think their primary motivation here is ethical.) There's a lot more money to be made in meat than in tobacco these days.

Just in time for the summer barbecue season

Ingrid Newkirk, the president of People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, has drawn up a most unusual will. Upon her death she asks that her flesh be barbecued and her skin used to make leather products, all in protest of the way humans treat animals. She also wants her liver to be vacuum-packed and sent to France as a foie gras protest, and her feet to be removed and made into umbrella stands in a mockery of what we do to elephants.

I personally think Ms. Newkirk's plan is incredibly imaginative and fun. (While I'll pass on the barbecue, I'd be proud to have one of her feet next to my front door!) But I just can't imagine stuffy meat-eaters and other animal abusers appreciating the humor in this. I can just see Mr. Meat-Eater now, rolling his eyes when he reads about this at breakfast. ("Look at this Marge…another one of those animal rights fanatics wants to be an umbrella stand.")

Maybe we should all have wills like this. I'm sure Hormel would be delighted to get into the human "foie gras" business—especially if it's as profitable as "free range pork."

Mad dogs and Canadians

Canada's discovery of its first cow infected with mad cow disease made big headlines, got plenty of TV news coverage, and sent many US stocks tumbling. The Canadian government made extraordinary efforts to ensure that the public's food supply wouldn't be tainted. Unfortunately, the governmental bureaucracy was no match for the profit-hungry meat industry. Would this "downer of all downer" cows go to waste instead of profit? No! The cow was "processed" into dog food that was subsequently shipped to the United States.

Things we don't need science to explain

Signaling a major step forward in the advancement of human knowledge, a study at Edinburgh University and the neighboring Roslin Institute subjected fish to bee stings on their lips and concluded that fish can experience pain. While animal rights supporters found this conclusion to be rather obvious (Well, duh!), fisherpersons "carped" at the idea. A biologist for Britain's National Angling Alliance expressed the opinion that fish "literally do not have the brains" to feel pain. (A spokesfish for the test subjects countered that anyone who thinks it's fun to stand for hours waist-deep in a freezing stream doesn't have the brains a fish is born with.)

It's what we say, not what we do, that counts

Yogurt and ice cream maker Stonyfield Farm advertises that it "celebrates strong women." Next fall it is sponsoring the "Strong Woman Summit" with celebrities like Erin Brockovich. When the irony was pointed out to the Stonyfield farmers that their products only exist because of the rape of females of another species, they declined to comment. Surprise, surprise.

It's a strange world out there, and nobody's explaining it.

Your Guide to Rationalizing Away the Holidays—A Christmas Tree for Guilt Ridden, Tree-Hugging Vegetarians

2009-12-17T09:37:00.002-07:00

It just doesn't seem right, but many vegetarians will spend the holiday season wracked with guilt again this year. For these folks Christmas wouldn't be Christmas without a tree. But the thought of chopping down a perfectly good evergreen, just for their holiday decorations, is something they find most distressing.

Guilt over Christmas trees isn't limited to vegetarians, of course. For some reason lots of people—even those who don't give a second thought to what (or who) might be on their dinner plates—are troubled by the annual slaying of the conifers. But it may be worst for vegetarians, especially when we consider that having a tree may mean at least temporarily putting aside some of our vegetarian values—you know, those pesky little values like environmental sensitivity and not wanting to kill things.

Is there a solution to this problem? If you're starting to feel guilty just reading this, can you rationalize your way out of this dilemma and still enjoy the holidays? Of course you can!

In fact, there are at least six ways that you, the sensitive vegetarian, can have a Christmas tree this year, and you shouldn't feel guilty about any of them. (Well, not too guilty anyway.) Here are your options:

Option #1—The Real Chopped-Down Tree. Yes, you can join the multitudes and purchase a real, beautiful, made-out-of-wood tree that someone will be happy to chop down for you for a price. You can bring it home, decorate it, and watch it turn brown and die before your eyes (and maybe even catch your house on fire). You won't feel guilty about any of this if you keep a couple of things in mind. First, even if Christmas tree farming wreaks wanton environmental destruction, this destruction pales in comparison to the good environmental deeds you do all year long just by being a vegetarian. Really!

And you needn't feel guilty about chopping down this poor defenseless conifer either. Remember, you became a vegetarian because you think the lives of plants are inherently less valuable than the lives of animals. By necessity you chop down plants all the time to nourish your body. Nourishing your soul is equally important.

Option #2—The Real Live Tree. Okay, maybe the rationalization you have to go through for a cut tree is just a little too much. The simple way to ease your guilty conscience may be to buy a live tree this holiday season, and then plant it out in the yard after New Years.

While this sounds great in theory, there are some potential drawbacks. Live trees are small, expensive, and heavy (roots, you know), and you can't keep them inside too long. Then, of course, there will be all the work involved in planting a Christmas tree in your arctic, frozen yard on January 2. Digging through granite might be easier.

Since you're planting this tree in the middle of winter it's likely to die by February. Will you feel guilty about that? Extremely. But hey, at least you can say you tried!

Option #3—The Phony Christmas Tree. If you're still feeling guilty about a real tree, you can always opt for the aluminum or plastic variety, and that's fine too. Sure, there's even more wanton environmental destruction with a phony tree, but that's okay—remember, you're good the rest of the year. Anyway, this baby will last forever, so your grandkids will still be enjoying its "beauty" (I use that term loosely) in the year 2068. Heck, by that time someone will have figured out how to recycle it.

Option #4—The Benson Branch. A few years ago one of my very clever vegetarian friends (or was it her husband?) came up with a very clever idea. She found a huge branch that had fallen off a tree, brought it home, and decorated it to the nines. It was gorgeous. If you're adamant that killing shouldn't be part of your holiday tradition, and you're particularly good at decorating things (there's a lot of empty space in a dead branch) this may be the option for you. As long as you avoid the aluminum tinsel, there's no guilt here. No-sir-ee (Bob).

Option #5—The Charlie Brown Christmas Tree. The Christmas special featuring all those zany characters from the Peanuts comic strip has been on TV every holiday season since the Revolutionary War (although many of us would swear we've seen it more often than that). Remember when Charlie Brown picks the mangiest little tree on the lot that nobody wants? Remember how the children decorate it with all the gaudy ornaments from Snoopy's doghouse, and then everybody decides they love it, and it symbolizes the real meaning of Christmas? Well, this could be you!

This year you could go out on Christmas Eve and buy one of those poor scraggly trees still left on the lot that you always feel sorry for. (I bet the Christmas tree person will want to get home early, and will even give you a discount.) Then you can take this poor little tree home and have a wonderful Christmas Eve with your family decorating it, drinking soy "egg"nog, and getting into the spirit of the season. And instead of feeling guilty, you'll feel good about yourself, because you'll know that if you didn't buy that little tree it would have been chopped down for nothing, and would have gone in the dumpster the day after Christmas.

Option #6—Someone Else's Christmas Tree. Being inherently lazy as well as a cheapskate, this is the option I usually choose. It just makes sense. Why go to all the trouble and expense of putting up your own tree when someone else will do it for you?
That's right, you'll enjoy the holidays more this year if you spend quality time with your friends' and neighbors' trees!

To make this a reality, all you have to do is schedule a few "chance" encounters at the supermarket with folks you know during the month of December. During each of these "chance" encounters you will say something like this: "Gail, what a surprise to see you! You know, I was going to invite you and Jim over for a holiday party, but with everything going on at work and with little Johnny having that foot disease, I just haven't had a chance to decorate. Boy, it sure would be great to spend some time with you guys…"

Now, if Gail is any kind of a decent human being at all, you know she's going to invite you over to her house, where she'll have a beautifully decorated tree (not to mention a fire, food and drinks) that you can enjoy without feeling guilty. Play your cards right and you'll be getting four or five invitations like this every week. You won't even notice that you don't personally have a tree.

Isn't sharing wonderful? Isn't this the true spirit of the season?

The Veggie Avenger Spends a Holiday at Mom’s House

2009-11-25T16:49:00.003-07:00

Just when you thought you were safe, we return to the adventures of the Veggie Avenger, our vegetarian superhero of superheroes, with a look at how the tactless spend their holidays.

The Veggie Avenger is at home feeding his pet turtle Sammy when the phone rings. It's his mother.

"Florian?"

"Yes, mother." He hates it when she calls him that.

"We're having Thanksgiving supper dear. Your Uncle Lou and his family will be here."

"So?"

"So I expect you to come."

The Veggie Avenger gives Sammy the international symbol for gag me with a backhoe. "We went through this last year mother," he shouts into the phone. "I don't want any part of your vicious, death-mongering holiday celebrations!"

"That's fine dear," his mother says politely. "We'll expect you on Thursday at 2:00."

On the appointed day our hero reluctantly shows up at his mother's house. Uncle Lou is there with his wife and their pubescent twin girls Sharon and Cheryl. The girls giggle hysterically every time they look at the Veggie Avenger. Then, while Lou carves the turkey, the Veggie Avenger puts on a black arm band and reads a funeral mass. Sharon and Cheryl stare wide-eyed.

"Dies irae, dies irae..."

"Dish yourself up a helping of yardbird, son," Lou says. Everyone's plate is heaping with food, while our vegetarian superhero is making due with string beans and cranberry sauce.

"No thanks," the Veggie Avenger answers. "I don't eat my friends, even on holidays."

"Your mother makes a mighty tasty turkey," Uncle Lou persists. "Be polite and give it a try."

"I'd rather be polite to the bird." Our high-strung hero starts the funeral mass again, and begins genuflecting wildly, taking out the salt shaker with his elbow.

"If he's not going to eat the turkey, neither am I!" Sharon suddenly declares.

"Me neither!" shouts Cheryl.

"Now, now, girls," Lou says.

"Just ignore him, dears," Mom adds.

The girls push their plates away and look defiant.

Lou glares at the Veggie Avenger and mutters something about the progeny of unmarried dogs.

Mom glares.

The Veggie Avenger just shrugs. Inside he's beaming. Once again his unconventional tactics have paid off. He's taught his two nieces to think about what they eat and make their own decisions. He's proud, but he has to say something to break the tension.

"Anybody want to phone out for Chinese?"

Special Handling Instructions Instructions

2009-11-05T08:28:00.004-07:00

There I was. It was Sunday afternoon, and I and my two mangos and my steak sauce (don't get the wrong idea—it's great on seitan) were all in the Express Check Out line at the grocery store. Actually, that was wishful thinking. It was more like the "Slow Crawl" line.

As I waited I couldn't help but notice that the "14 items or Less" [sic] being purchased by the guy in front of me included three particularly large and particularly grisly looking pieces of meat. What joy, I thought.

Then I noticed something peculiar. I saw that each of these offensive items bore a label with the title "Special Handling Instructions." Looking closer, I found that these labels warned buyers of the bacteria in meat and gave them instructions on how to handle it, lest it poison them and their families.

Now, I realize this is probably old news to most people. I may be the last guy in America to discover that meat contains these warning labels. The reason for this, other than my being dim-witted of course, is that I can't stand to be around the stuff. Whenever I find myself anywhere near the meat section of a store my standard procedure is to divert my eyes, hold my breath, and walk in the opposite direction as quickly as possible. I haven't been up close and personal with a package of meat since that night 20 years ago when a vegetarian friend and I took gag photos at an A & P in Chicago. (Trust me, you wouldn't want to know the details.)

In any event, I was pleased to discover these new meat labels. I assume, without really knowing, that they are the result of the infamous Jack-in-the-Box scandal a few years ago. Somebody's lawyer probably talked to somebody else's lawyer, and everyone suddenly realized that meat was crawling with E. coli and other bacteria, and that these labels better go on before people started filing lawsuits.

The "Special Handling Instructions" labels are a step in the right direction, and maybe they'll even save a few lives. It's doubtful, though, that they'll change anyone's purchasing habits. Rather, it seems to me to be a tribute to meat's addictive properties that people will continue to buy the stuff and feed it to their children despite the fact that it advertises itself as being covered with harmful germs.

Of course, we vegetarians know that exposure to potentially deadly bacteria is just one of the hazards of eating meat, and a small one at that. The current labels don't go nearly far enough in our opinion. Everyone gripes about cigarettes (and rightly so), but meat has long been the most under-labeled product in existence.

Considering the mountain of damning evidence and the almost universal agreement that this product kills more people than handguns, it's incredible that we don't even insist on nutrition information on the package, much less any serious health warnings. What if a six-year-old wants to buy a package of bacon with her allowance? Any butcher in the country will hand it over the counter in a brown paper wrapper—no permit, no waiting period, and no questions asked.

I want to change this outrageous state of affairs. I'd love to see the meat industry come to us vegetarians and ask us to redesign meat labels. (Yeah, this is likely!) We could come up with some great ideas. Here are a few examples of the "Special Handling Instructions" I'd like to see on meat packages. You can probably think of lots more.

WARNING: CONTAINS BLOODBORNE PATHOGENS—HANDLE ONLY WITH LATEX GLOVES
MAY CAUSE DROWSINESS. THIS EFFECT IS INTENSIFIED BY USE WITH ALCOHOL
WARNING: BIOHAZARDOUS WASTE—PLEASE DISPOSE OF PROPERLY [preferably by burial with full honors]
DO NOT USE IN OR NEAR OPEN FLAMES—THIS INCLUDES BARBECUE GRILLS
WARNING: REPEATED USE CAN LEAD TO HEART FAILURE, DEATH AND OTHER UNPLEASANTRIES
CAUTION: SLIPPERY WHEN WET
KEEP OUT OF CHILDREN'S REACH
MAY CAUSE SEVERE GASTROINTESTINAL DISTRESS. IF THESE SIDE EFFECTS PERSIST, DISCONTINUE USE
AVOID CONTACT WITH SKIN OR BREATHING OF VAPORS
WARNING: PESTICIDES APPLIED HERE
DO NOT USE NEAR FOOD OR DRINK
CAUTION: USE AS INTENDED MAY CAUSE INJURY OR DEATH
INDUCE VOMITING IF SWALLOWED

If we put all these very truthful labels on meat packages maybe the public will finally get the idea that meat doesn't only require "special handling." It requires no handling at all.

Religion, Politics and (of course) Food …what really matters is Speed

2009-09-05T10:11:00.002-06:00

"Americans don't dine. They gobble, gulp, and go."—A 19th Century European traveler, quoted in The Good Old Days—They Were Terrible! by Dr. Otto L. Bettman

"I love most things from the US except McDonald's, your football and this fiasco of electing a president."—
Graham J. Weeks

I'm sitting here reading a news story about ConAgra, the huge food conglomerate, recalling 1.45 million pounds of corn flour and other products because they may contain StarLink biotech corn. That corn, in turn, might possibly cause allergic reactions in some people. Now, while I certainly don't have any problem with such a display of concern about the public's welfare, as a vegetarian I do have to wonder why ConAgra doesn't also recall its "Big Mama" pickled sausage, or its "300% hotter" cousin, "Tijuana Mama". After all, those products, along with countless other ConAgra "foods," contain ingredients (animal fat, nitrates and nitrites, etc.) that, without a doubt, cause cancer and heart disease.

Hmmm…. A company recalls products that are possibly linked to allergies, but leaves products on the market that are certainly linked to much more serious diseases. Why?

Well, I could chalk it up to the craziness of meat-eaters, but I think the real answer is speed. Allergies manifest themselves right away, while heart disease and cancer take a lot longer. And in modern America if something isn't going to occur quickly, we really don't care. Call us when it happens.

Of course, nowhere in our culture is the "need for speed" more apparent than in our food industry. I stopped at a grocery store this morning in search of oatmeal, and was surprised to see that even the Quakers (not known to be the fastest group of Americans!) were promising me hot oats in only 5 minutes. If that wasn't fast enough, I could opt for "quick" oats that cook in only 1 minute, or "instant" oats that must cook even before a person can get the package open. Judging from the product selection at my store, it's pretty clear that most Americans want their oats instantaneously.

Even as they race to copy us, the rest of the world makes fun of this American preoccupation with speed. Sometimes their criticism even gets serious, like just last week when a prominent Catholic theologian criticized McDonald's in an Italian newspaper. In an article endorsed by the Catholic Bishops' Conference, Massimo Salani denounced the eat-and-run culture promoted by McDonald's, and warned that eating a Big Mac with fries was the antithesis of receiving communion. He said fast food "completely forgets the holiness of food," should be spurned by Catholics, and is appropriate only for atheists, or possibly Lutherans.

Wow, those are strong words! There's obviously a "whopper" of a gap between the laid-back, family-oriented Italian Catholics, and those crazy, mile-a-minute, American Quakers! As a Lutheran, I may only be one French fry away from eternal damnation, but I must admit that I share Mr. Salani's views about McDonald's being unholy. Their speed, though, would not be my #1 complaint.

In a culture known for doing things fast, it seems ironic that as I write this nearly two weeks have already passed since the enormously entertaining election of 2000, and we still don't know who the next President of these United States of America is going to be. (Yes, I know that as you read this you know how the election turned out—but that's just the advantage you have of living in the future!)

The election didn't represent a Constitutional crisis, but rather a technological crisis. (When the ballots cast for each candidate are closer than the inherent margin of error in counting those ballots, its pretty hard to identify the winner, no matter how many recounts you have!) In any event, it certainly was a turn of events that for once Americans were the ones keeping everybody waiting. Again the world criticized. (Do they secretly love our speed, or do they just hate whatever we do?)

However the 49 recounts eventually turn out (only you know for sure), the message for America seems clear: what we need in this country are faster elections and slower food. Now, you may think the solution to all this is to ship all the bigwigs at McDonald's to a monastery in Italy and let the Quakers run our next election. Sure it sounds silly, but I'm with you.

A Word About Restaurants

2009-08-24T15:36:00.004-06:00

Dining out as a vegetarian can be a gratifying experience. There's a real thrill in finding a new restaurant with an array of creative vegetarian dishes. And, at those places we frequent, there is a certain satisfaction and sense of place to be experienced, knowing that we, along with the rest of the vegetarian community, constitute an important part of the clientele and keep the vegetarian items on the menu.

It goes without saying, however, that the negative side to restaurant eating for the vegetarian looms very large. When navigating the uncharted menu of a new or unfamiliar restaurant, hazards abound for the unwary vegetarian. For every new restaurant that holds some promise, there are at least five others with no redeeming social value. Dinner at one of these can mean an evening of anger, starvation, embarrassment, or all of the above.

As a fairly frequent traveler, I have the fortune, or misfortune, to try lots of new restaurants around the country. Since most of my travel is on business, the choice of these places is often not my own, and the choices are often not the greatest. Below, I've compiled a list of a few disasters that regularly befall the vegetarian restaurant diner. You can probably think of lots more.

1. There's nothing on the menu I can eat. I can't begin to count the number of times this has happened to me. Nor can I describe the sense of horror and panic in sitting down with a group of people and finding nothing (I mean nothing!) on the menu without meat in it. It usually means that one is relegated to the "old standbys" an iceberg lettuce salad and a baked potato. The "old standbys" have saved many a vegetarian from starvation. I once lived on them for a week in Texas.

2. I bet there's nothing on the menu I can eat. This may be the only thing worse than #1 above. It usually happens when you're with a group of people, you're starving, and everyone decides to go to a restaurant with a name like "The Branding Iron" or "Ed's Steak Pit." Not only are you likely to have a miserable meal, but you'll have to spend a couple of hours worrying about it beforehand.

3. My God! There's meat in this! Let's say you find something on the menu that looks all right, and you breathe a sigh of relief and order it. You're still not out of the woods. Restaurants seem to delight in subtly slipping meat into almost everything, especially when it isn't mentioned on the menu. This, of course, is most common in Chinese eateries where shreds of beef are hidden beneath the bamboo shoots and pork invades the egg rolls. But it happens in many other restaurants too. I've found chicken broth in pasta primavera, beef gravy on top of fettuccine Alfredo, and lots of Italian restaurants that put pepperoni in their salads.

4. The "Local Color" Syndrome. It can be said that restaurants in sophisticated big cities will be more likely to have good food for a vegetarian than restaurants in small towns or rural areas. While I've found this to generally be the case, it isn't always true. I've had wonderful vegetarian food in Wyoming and North Carolina and found absolutely terrible, uncreative (and very expensive) restaurants in Los Angeles and New York.

An almost foolproof way I've found to weed out a huge number of undesirable restaurants is to avoid any place that hints of having any measure of "local color." This category of restaurants obviously includes steak places in the Midwest and seafood restaurants along the coasts. But it also includes every restaurant that serves "American Cuisine," has the word "grill" in its name, or has been in the "same location for 20 years." And it includes almost every place with red carpeting and black vinyl chairs. In short, if the "locals love it," a vegetarian won't.

No matter what "local color" restaurant you go into, you'll get the same waitress. Her name is Marge, and she's worked there since she was 17 (she's about 50 now). Marge is pretty saucy and prides herself on being a "colorful character." She thinks vegetarians are communists (see #5 below).

Since you won't see anything vegetarian on the menu, you'll have to ask Marge what vegetables are available. She will curtly respond, "We don't have any vegetables," and will try to make your evening miserable from that point on. She won't even smile when she brings you the "old standbys."

5. Everybody hates me. As if the hazards set forth above aren't enough for the restaurant-going vegetarian, there is one more: by the end of the meal everyone will hate you. Even if you're lucky enough not to get Marge for a waitress, whomever you do get may be just as bad. You can't really blame the country's waiters and waitresses. After all, they've been trained to think their restaurant's prime rib is the absolute height of gastronomic perfection. And even if the vegetarian isn't directly insulting the food, he or she probably is creating some additional work.

If the people you are eating with aren't vegetarians, don't expect them to love you either. They'll be almost as embarrassed as you are when you ask if the soup of the day is made with a chicken stock or if the manicotti sauce has meat in it. While the vegetarian is desperately trying to find something to eat, everyone else at the table will be wondering to themselves why a simple thing like ordering dinner has to be made into such a production.

Sometimes it all gets to be so discouraging that I feel like eating at home the rest of my life, and packing a brown bag whenever I have to travel. But it's usually when I'm at my most demoralized that I get some encouragement—like the time in Wyoming that I found a whole list of fresh vegetables on a steak house menu, or the seafood restaurant in Florida that had wonderful black bean soup without the meat stock. Sometimes it's just a nice waiter who will take pity on me and go out of his way to see that I get fed. When something like that happens, I think maybe, on the whole, restaurants aren't so bad after all.

Save the Meat-Eaters

2009-08-07T14:17:00.003-06:00

[Editor's note: The following is the text of a television advertising campaign recently produced for the Save the Meat-Eaters Foundation. Over the coming months it will be rolled out in 37 countries in Africa, the Middle East and Asia.]

Off-Screen Announcer: "Half-way around the world, in America, millions of children face malnutrition every day. Won't you help?"

The camera focuses in on an eight-year-old boy dressed in khakis, a polo shirt and Air Jordan sneakers. He has a plaintive look on his face, a half-eaten hamburger in one hand, and dried ketchup at the corners of his mouth.

Announcer: "This is Conner. He lives in the village of Westport, Connecticut with his parents and younger sister Megan. Shockingly, Connor's diet consists almost entirely of hamburgers, chicken nuggets and cows' milk—a diet severely lacking in necessary vitamins, minerals and fiber.

"The story is the same for millions of children across America." [At this point the picture shifts to a group of children eating pizza at a Chuck E. Cheese franchise. A six-foot mouse in a purple shirt and baseball cap looms in the background.] "Left to the mercy of the US school lunch program and their tacky suburban parents, these children will almost certainly grow up fat, unhealthy, and totally lacking in good taste.

"Fortunately, the future doesn't have to be so grim for Connor and his friends. The Save the Meat-Eaters Foundation has helped thousands of meat-eating children like these to enjoy fruitful (and vegetableful) lives." [The picture changes to smiling children shoving string beans up their noses.] "Won't you help? For a donation of as little as $2 a day you can give a six-year-old girl in Indianapolis her first taste of mustard greens, or send a lentil pilaf to a young boy in Scarsdale.

"And when you sponsor a meat-eating child, you will get a picture of that child and receive letters in his or her own handwriting…"

[The camera zooms in on a cute blonde girl reading from her letter. "Dear Mr. Gupta, Thank you for your generous donation of the basmati rice and the dal. All the kids at school said it was the best dal they ever had. We don't miss hamburgers at all anymore, and tomorrow Mrs. Godfrey, our Save the Meat-Eaters counselor, is going to teach us to eat artichokes. God bless you, Mr. Gupta! With help like yours us American kids have a chance to grow up just like kids do in the rest of the world."]

Announcer: "Yes, we are blessed to live in a land where good food is plentiful. But in the United States, a country with a long history of war, privilege for the wealthy, and governments that cater to the agricultural special interests, the choices are limited. Here there is no national health-care program, and doctors are untrained in nutrition and preventative medicine. …Sadly, children are often the first victims." [A screen shot of teenagers drinking Pepsi and eating fried pork rinds in front of a Quickie Mart is accompanied by ominous music.]

"Please call the number at the bottom of your screen today. Save the Meat-Eaters will turn your generous, tax-deductible contribution into whole grains, fruits, and vegetables, and rush them to the places where the need is most critical—Nebraska, Idaho, and (god help us!) Texas. Just imagine the joy on an American teenager's face when he eats his first carrot. Imagine the sense of accomplishment young mothers in Save the Meat-Eaters' training classes will feel when they make their first salad without iceberg lettuce and ranch dressing." [The music turns bright and perky, and the camera shows a smiling mother serving frisee tossed with walnuts and raspberry vinaigrette to her smiling children.]

"It's not too late to make a difference in the life of a meat-eating child. Call the number at the bottom of your screen right now, and support the Save the Meat-Eaters Foundation. You'll be glad you did!"

Miscellaneous Ramblings

2009-07-23T10:11:00.003-06:00

This column isn't about anything at all. (Are they ever?) It's just a collection of miscellaneous junk that has been taking up space in my brain (limited capacity you know—something's got to go) for the longest time. There are some questions here (mostly rhetorical) and, of course, a few unenlightened observations. None of them rated a whole column, but I'll feel better getting them off my chest, so here goes.

I've been annoyed for years that the dairy industry gets away with blatantly lying about the fat content of its products ("2%" milk is really about 34% calories from fat), but I'm really disappointed that the producers of plant-based milks (soy, rice almond, etc.) use the same deception. It doesn't stop there, either. I recently read the label of a "fat free" salad dressing from one of the health food companies and found that 25% of its calories were from fat. That's fat free? Can't these people make money without lying to their customers?
And isn't it also annoying that for whatever reason (economies of scale, government support) we have to pay more for those plant-based milks than for cow's milk, when in reality they have to be much simpler and cheaper to produce?
Speaking of finances, how come restaurants never give us vegetarians a discount when we ask them to exclude the meat and/or dairy ingredients from their meals? After all, when we order the "linguini with shrimp marinara, hold the shrimp," we're saving them big bucks. Couldn't they at least offer to throw on a few artichoke hearts?
Wouldn't it be nice if there was at least one kind of universally-accepted vegan sandwich that we vegetarians could always count on? Something that we know we could find on the menu at every sandwich shop, deli or truck stop we might walk into? Is that too much to ask? It would make life much easier for us when we're looking for lunch in, say, Jersey City or the suburbs of Des Moines. We're not fussy--a black bean burger or hummus sandwich would do just fine. (No, peanut butter and jelly doesn't count!)
Does the Department of Agriculture ("DOA") have an obscure regulation somewhere mandating that all prepared foods must have at least one dairy product in them somewhere, even if totally unnecessary? Does someone out there get some kind of perverse pleasure from thinking about us weird vegetarians perusing the ingredients lists on the sides of packages, knowing that we'll invariably find "whey," or "non-fat milk solids" or "caseinate" listed as the 39th item down? (Sure, it's better not to eat prepared foods anyway, but I'm not always up for baking my own crackers.)
Three cheers for all the folks with lactose intolerance! They probably outnumber vegans a dozen to one, and they create most of the demand for what few truly non-dairy products we can find on our smiling grocers' shelves.
What would happen if basketball players spit through the whole game the way baseball players do?
It occurs to me that, despite the availability of overwhelming scientific evidence to the contrary in the local paper every day, most people still believe meat and dairy products are good for them (at least they believe the good stuff outweighs the bad), and that these "foods" are necessary in their diets. Consider a meat eater and a vegetarian eating side-by-side. Each of them looks over and makes a mental assessment of the other's meal...
Meat-eater: A person can't live on that. My dinner is healthier.
Vegetarian: This person is committing suicide. If he lives 'til dessert it will be a miracle.
At the observation of the most minor health imperfection (a cough, a sniffle, a heart attack), meat eaters simply cannot resist teasing us vegetarians with the line: "If you ate a good steak once in a while you'd be healthier." I know they are being very witty, but the next time I hear this I'm going to scream. I think if I ever did "eat a good steak" I'd certainly be dead.
Speaking of which, it is a terrible burden on us vegetarians to represent our minority to the rest of the world. We have to be healthy and vivacious all the time. Sometimes I just don't feel like it.
Yesterday I noticed the slogan on the front of my local health-food grocery. It said: Helping you to make healthy choices. I wish it said: Helping you to make ethical choices.

There. That's it— that's all I have to say. I feel a lot better now.

So Much for Being a Vegetarian… It was Nice While it Lasted

2009-07-05T12:13:00.001-06:00

I went off my vegetarian diet yesterday. Yes, it's true. I ate an animal. One that was alive—at least until I ate it. Now it's dead, and I feel bad, in more ways than one. It wasn't even tasty.

It's not that I intended to become a meat-eater again, mind you. It was just something that happened. I was in the park at the time, riding laps on my bicycle. There's one place where the road goes uphill, and I was gasping for breath, trying to keep up my speed against a stiff headwind. That was when this unfortunate creature, whatever it may have been, apparently mistook my open mouth for an inviting cave, and flew right in.

Now, you'd think that at the point the bug entered my mouth it would have realized its mistake and made a quick exit. ("Uh-oh, those stalactites and stalagmites look strangely like teeth! Mayhaps this isn't a cave after all!") But instead, he or she just compounded the problem by making a bee-line (yeah, I suppose it could have been a bee) down my throat. At that point all hope was lost.

I tried to keep from swallowing the poor thing, of course. I coughed and I spit (much to the chagrin of the other bike riders passing by), and I probably looked like I was having convulsions right there on my bicycle. But no matter what I did, I couldn't get rid of that "bug-in-the-throat" feeling. As a matter of fact, I swear I can still feel it the next day. Maybe that's the kind of psychological damage that meat-eating causes!

Before yesterday, I had been a vegetarian for almost 30 years. (Thirty years?! Is that possible? I must have been a very small child when I started.) Now all of that is history, and I feel deceitful even using the "V" word. I feel like all of those people who say they're vegetarian, but what they really mean is, "I've been vegetarian ever since I finished breakfast, and I intend to stay vegetarian right up until lunch." I used to make fun of those people, and now I am one.

If I was going to end my vegetarian diet I suppose I could have picked more pleasurable ways of doing it. I could have eaten lobster dripping in butter, or a greasy cheesesteak sub, or any one of a dozen things I loved back in my meat-eating days. But to tell you the truth, I have no desire for any of those things anymore. They probably would have grossed me out even more than eating that bug. At least the bug was small. At least I didn't get sick.

Of course it's tempting to rationalize my way out of this thing entirely. Last night my neighbor's daughter tried to cheer me up. "You don't know it was a bug," she said with the kind of optimism 14-year-olds often display. "It could have been a piece of a plant." Yeah, I thought for a second, maybe something just fell off of a tree and floated down into my mouth. Then I realized how unlikely that was. No, whatever I ate felt like it was going from point A to point B with a purpose when I got in its way. If it wasn't a bug exploring a cave, it was probably a bug intent on committing hara-kiri in the back of my throat.

So now I have to start all over again. Here's what I'm going to tell people: I'm a new vegetarian. I've been a vegetarian for almost 24 hours now, and I'm proud of myself. I intend to stay a vegetarian too. …At least until the next Oriental restaurant I eat at slips chicken broth into the sauce or hides a piece of shrimp in the "vegetable" spring roll. …At least until some well-meaning friend who doesn't read labels serves me something with gelatin in it. …At least until my next bike ride in the park.

Oh, The Wonders of Those High-Protein Diets!

2009-06-24T07:24:00.003-06:00

Everywhere I turn these days I'm reading about people eating more meat. Meat prices are soaring, and the "meat packers" (a euphemism if ever there was one) can scarcely keep up with demand.

Part of this, I think, has to do with the "millennium bug" (which, as we all know, turned out to be nothing more than an entomological hoax cooked up by former KGB agents now in the flashlight-battery business in New Jersey). I can just hear people all across America in mock despair the day after New Years: "Oh gosh, I bought 300 pounds of sirloin steak to get me through the Y2k crisis. Guess I'd better eat it this weekend before it goes bad!"

Of course the current trend towards flesh foods goes way beyond purchases made by America's 250 million militant survivalists the last 2 weeks of December. Indeed, if you look at the numbers you'll find that meat consumption in the US has been way up for some time. (It's a "bull" market, you might say.) The #1 reason for all of this is no secret: Everybody and his brother are on high-protein diets.

I first realized something was up when people started to react to my vegetarianism a little differently. Instead of the usual excuses ("Of course I'd be a vegetarian [sigh]—if only my Bohemian husband and sumo-wrestler son didn't have me chained to the stove boiling hot dogs…"), I started getting aggressive responses ("Vegetarian, huh? [sneer] That's fine for you, but a finely-tuned body like mine needs extra protein [more sneers]."). And my friends changed too. Suddenly, all they wanted to talk about was protein, and how they'd reached dietary Nirvana.

I decided I'd better learn more about these high-protein diets before I got left behind. Here's what I found out:

1. High-Protein Diets are the Latest Thing. Whereas vegetarianism is old news (Adam & Eve, and all that dusty stuff), eating protein is a new and exciting cutting-edge idea. It's the subject of dozens of new self-help books, so you know it must be the right thing to do for the new century. Funny though, I could swear I was on one of these diets myself when I was a fat little kid back in the 1960s. (I was still a fat little kid when I went off that diet, too.) And weren't high-protein diets fashionable in the 1970s and 1980s? (Do the names "Stillman" and "Scarsdale" ring any bells?) Whatever happened to all the folks on those diets?

2. High-Protein Diets are High-Tech Weight Reduction Programs. For years we all thought it was calorie intake vs. calories burned that determined whether we'd be overweight. Now we know better. As long as we don't eat those evil carbohydrates our bodies will burn fat. Isn't it great to discover that those stuffy old laws of thermodynamics don't apply anymore? (It sure makes me feel better about not paying attention in science class!) Of course, there are vegetarian doctors who claim to be able to prove that people on high-protein diets only lose weight because they (1) become dehydrated, (2) go into an abnormal and dangerous state called "ketosis", and/or (3) starve themselves. But what do those doctors know? The algebra they base their calculations on is hopelessly old-fashioned too.

3. High-Protein Diets Cure Diseases. In a recent interview with CNN, protein diet guru Dr. Robert Atkins said his diet, which includes rib-eye steak, roast beef, lobster and butter, cures diabetes and high blood pressure, and reverses heart disease. (With news like this it's no wonder he's sold 9-1/2 million books!) And to think—for so many years everyone (with the possible exception of Woody Allen in Sleeper) believed it was just the opposite. Thank goodness we've finally learned the truth! Thank goodness all those silly health organizations (the American Heart Association, the American Dietetic Association, the National Cholesterol Education Program, the American Cancer Society) that have been endorsing high-fiber, low-fat diets, have finally been put in their place.

4. High-Protein Diets Get People More In Touch With Their Bodies. This has happened to many people I know personally. My friend John, for example, found out from a "doctor" that his blood chemistry was practically screaming at him, demanding that he eat high-protein foods. (This isn't to be confused with the blood-type diet—my friend Sandy is on that one!) My old college buddy Lee, who's never been healthy a day in his life, has been on a hundred different diets over the years and swears high-protein is finally "it". His body is at peace now that he's given up fruit and grains entirely and eats 3 eggs with bacon every morning for breakfast.

And several of my friends claim to have "protein meters" in their bodies that tell them when they are running low. (Are these the same things "Morris the cat" has? How come I didn't get one???) My friend Patty went into virtual "protein shock" one day when she was visiting my house. She ran to my refrigerator for a protein fix and flung open the door with the highest of expectations, only to be hugely disappointed. ("Isn't there anything dead in here?")

5. People Love to Eat High-Protein Foods. Who can argue with this? Wouldn't everyone rather eat a high-protein meal (e.g., a hamburger—plain) instead of something they'd get on a stupid vegetarian diet (e.g., a veggie burger on a Kaiser bun with pickles, lettuce, tomato, onions, roasted red peppers, and a pile of fries on the side)? A while back I had dinner in a Chinese restaurant with a couple of high-protein dieters. After they carefully picked all the green peppers out of their beef stir fry (vegetarians in reverse!) they liked their food so much that they decided to take 90% of it home in a Styrofoam box so they could savor it later. Now that's enjoying a meal!

It's great that the news about the benefits of high-protein diets has gotten out to the masses. The meat industry is happy, the lobster folks are raking in the money, and I guess no one has to feel guilty about anything anymore.

I do feel kind of sorry, though, for all the older vegetarians out there who have already lived, say, 95 or 100 years outside "the Zone" on their outdated high-carbohydrate, low-cholesterol diets. The great news about protein may be coming too late to do them much good. As for the rest of us, though, thank goodness we've been enlightened. If we can just get our protein meters adjusted, we're fixed for life.

People (“People who need people…” and all that)

2009-06-13T07:05:00.003-06:00

The other day I was talking to a friend in the animal rights movement, and I happened to mention that people are my favorite animal. I guess that didn't impress her. She looked at me like I'd been eating those funny mushrooms again, and said, "Oh, I don't feel that way at all!"

I can certainly see her point. A quick perusal of the local TV news on any given night will tell you exactly what kind of selfish and vicious animals humans are. Kidnapping, rape and grisly serial murders are everyday events—and that's just in your neighborhood! It's all become so commonplace we take it for granted. Just this past week a friend of mine came home from a business trip and found her house had been robbed. Most of what was taken had little or no value to the thieves, but represented huge sentimental losses to her. Who would do such a thing? People, that's who.

Of course, all of this pales in comparison to the horrors of the factory farm, the slaughterhouse and the medical research laboratory. There's seemingly no end to the violence and the suffering, and virtually everyone we know is in on the action. It's enough to make any vegetarian swear off the human race and spend the rest of his/her life cavorting with frogs and trees.

Okay, so it's no secret that humans are the only animals that commit "inhuman" acts. Sometimes, though, that reality can be overwhelming. It causes us to lose perspective, and that, especially for vegetarians, is a very bad thing.

In those moments when I'm not too depressed about the state of the world, I try to focus my attention on the other side of human existence—the kind and good side of people. Take war, for example. (Yeah, war. There's something that makes me want to live out my life on a deserted island away from people!) But even in war, amidst the pervasive death and destruction, there are constant examples of humans doing extraordinary things. People who have lost everything find something inside them to reach out and give comfort to those in similar circumstances. People give their very lives for their countries and causes. (As misdirected as those efforts sometimes are, the act itself is noble nonetheless.)

And of course astonishing courage, valor and selflessness aren't limited to times of war. I see those values in the people I come in contact with every day—from my friends who are teachers and social workers, to cancer patients dying with dignity, to the retarded man who always bags my groceries with a smile and a cheerful greeting. I see it every day in my vegetarian friends too—people who care so much, and work so hard to eliminate the suffering and disease and environmental destruction caused by eating meat.

People are my favorite animal. I think that's because the same mental and physical capabilities that allow them to do so many horrible things empower them to do extraordinary things as well. And I love those extraordinary things! I can't watch a space shuttle launch without getting a lump in my throat, and when I listen to a Beethoven piano concerto… well, let's just say I've never been anywhere closer to God.

I hate it when I hear meat-eaters say to vegetarians: "You don't care about people." It's an easy cop-out that allows them to feel better at our expense, and it's never true. On the other hand, it's sad when vegetarians and animal rights activists and environmentalists get so caught up in their causes that they momentarily lose their goodwill for humans. Without people the world would be an awfully lonely and boring place.

"Speciesism" seems to be a bad word in the vegetarian and animal rights communities. But I suspect all animals are inherently "speciesist," and a little of that may not be a bad thing for everyone's survival. Maybe it's not so wrong to revel in our humanity, as long as we keep it all in perspective and don't lose our compassion. (Compassion—another one of those characteristics at which humans are capable of excelling!)

Human rights is a mere subset of animal rights, but it's a necessary subset. You simply can't have one without the other. When every human being on earth finally realizes that it's imperative to love animals and humans, that's when we'll see real progress.

The “Essence of the Oyster”

2009-06-04T10:35:00.002-06:00

A number of years ago I had the exciting and all-too-common experience of being in an unfamiliar restaurant and having the waiter make recommendations he thought would be appropriate for a vegetarian.

"You should have the oyster sauce with your vegetables," he suggested.

"But doesn't that have oysters in it?" I asked naively.

"Oh no! There aren't any actual oysters in it. You see, it's just made from…" he held his thumb and forefinger together, as if holding something precious, and smacked his lips, "…the essence of the oyster."

"Oh." I pretended to consider his suggestion for a second. "Thanks, but I think I'll just stick with the essence of broccoli."

For me the essence of the oyster incident has become a metaphor for a whole series of bad experiences. How many times have I found meat lurking in the supposedly "vegetarian" entrée? Wasn't it just the other day I had to tell the restaurant to leave the essence of the chicken broth out of my pasta? Wasn't it just last week that I found out my favorite brand of bread is now contaminated with the essence of whey? Wasn't it just today that a friend of mine who is deathly allergic to shrimp found shrimp in her "vegetarian" spring rolls? It seems to be our lot in life as vegetarians—everyone claims to know what's best for us, but what they deliver rarely meets our standards.

My mother says I'm too fussy. She hates it when I meticulously comb the ingredients in everything she buys at the grocery store. And the last time I ate out with her she was mightily embarrassed when I sent my salad back to have the hard-boiled eggs removed, and then sent it back again to have the bacon and cheese removed. (Well, how was I to know they were hiding under the eggs???) She's probably right. Eating a little bit of something bad probably won't kill me nearly as fast as agonizing about eating a little bit of something bad.

There are people who agree with my mother—arguing that from a health standpoint it may actually be better to not be so strict in our vegetarianism. I once knew a nutrition doctor (okay, so he wasn't actually a doctor) who had studied all of the world's cultures with long life expectancies. One thing he found that all of these cultures had in common was that they were almost vegetarian. They all followed a vegetarian lifestyle most of the year, but every once in a while they'd have a big blowout party where they'd roast the prize pig and wallow in greasy food. This "doctor" surmised that those occasional non-vegetarian indulgences stressed their bodies and actually made them stronger in the long run.

I was recently reminded of this theory when McDonald's made their now infamous admission that the French fries they have for years been promoting as "cooked in pure vegetable oil" are not really vegetarian—that they contain the essence of the dead cow for flavoring. The same day I heard this shocking news I read about Mary Clark of Montrose, Colorado. Mary is 106 years old, in great health, and practically lives for her daily fix of—you guessed it—McDonald's French fries. (The McDonald's corporation is thrilled with this, and has promised Mary free fries until she is 150.)

Could Mary Clark's health actually have benefited from the animal contamination in her favorite food? Would I be healthier now if I'd only eaten that essence of the oyster sauce many years ago? Would all vegetarians be better off if only we weren't so fussy?

Somehow I doubt it. First of all, any vegetarian in our society is going to ingest unwanted animal products from time to time no matter how careful he or she is, thanks to the antics of Bozos like Ronald McDonald. If our systems need occasional stress we're sure to get it. More importantly, though, there's more to being vegetarian than our own health. And the commitment we make to lofty goals—even if they are loftier than we can ever hope to achieve in the real world—is one of the things that keeps us going.

I think I'll stay fussy, and continue to object every time I'm faced with the essence of the oyster. Maybe it's silly and obsessive and irks my mother, but somehow drawing a line and sticking to it just seems like the right thing to do. Somehow it just seems like the essence of vegetarianism.

Your Guide to Summer Fun—American Style!

2009-05-27T10:03:00.001-06:00

When the warm weather comes along you and your loved ones are sure to be on the lookout for some good family fun. Fortunately, the fine folks in the good old U.S. of A. have never been at a loss to come up with exciting endeavors to keep us not only entertained, but well fed too.

You'd have to be a complete social dork, for example, not to be invited to a couple of barbecues during the summer where you can scarf down slabs of ribs, burgers and dogs. At the "high class" barbecues you'll be entertained by the sight of a whole pig roasting in a pit or turning on a spit above the hot coals.

But barbecues are just the beginning. Warm weather will also bring clambakes and crayfish boils, bull roasts and crab feasts.

Looking more for fun than food? No problem. How about driving the kids down to the traveling petting zoo that's sure to be making the rounds at the local shopping mall? Or you could take the family on a trip to Florida to visit any of dozens of roadside animal shows.

Small towns often sponsor much of the fun. Ever since the days of Mark Twain they've been holding frog jumping contests and various animal races, and in the West you can catch the rodeo circuit almost everywhere. There are even rattlesnake roundups where, for a small donation you can have the thrill of lopping the head off one of the little critters. More fun than a fast-paced game of donkeyball? You bet!

For really big-time entertainment, though, there are a few small towns that truly excel. Yellville, Arkansas is one of them. They have an annual turkey drop where live turkeys are thrown from an airplane to the delight of the crowd below. And don't forget the East Texas Fire Ant Festival held every October in Marshall, Texas. This year as always they'll be having the "Fire Ant Parade," along with a chili and barbecue cook off. (Barbecued ants! Yum!) Deming, New Mexico hosts the annual "Great American Duck Race" (unofficial motto: "You're a winner, or you're dinner"), and in the same state little Jemez Pueblo, New Mexico gets on the map with its annual "Rooster Pull". (We won't go into the details, other than to say that in the course of the action the roosters' bodies tend to get separated from the heads.)

Two favorites in the small town derby are Nucla, Colorado and Hegins, Pennsylvania. A few years ago, amid much fanfare from the press, Nucla inaugurated its annual prairie dog shoot. People come from all over to kill, watch, or protest, and the local chamber of commerce laughs all the way to the bank. Hegins is an old hand at this sort of thing. Every Labor Day for more than 50 years they've hosted a live pigeon shoot. The birds are released from cages, get about ten feet in the air, and are blasted to smithereens, apparently to the amusement of everyone. Young boys are used to pick up the remains, and wring the necks of any birds that somehow survive the buckshot.

Isn't America wonderful? Forget about producing goods and services, we'll all get rich exploiting violence!

Okay, maybe I'm getting a little carried away with the sarcasm, but the breadth of activities from which humans seek entertainment at the expense (usually considerable expense) of other animals is mind-boggling. We have to hope that one day the American people can find some better ways of passing the time on summer days than by glorifying brutality toward animals. Maybe everyone could plant a garden or take up water-skiing. (Maybe the folks in Nucla and Hegins can get real jobs!)

As for us vegetarians, you just might find us out at the ballpark with a bag of peanuts and a tofu dog. We'll take baseball over a rodeo any day. Of course, even our National Pastime isn't perfect. We'll be working to change the fact that the gloves are leather, and the ball is covered with "horsehide."

Light My Fire

2009-05-20T13:57:00.002-06:00

It's summertime. The time we all put on our Ray Ban Wayfarers and head for the surf. Time for cruising up to the drive-in with Beach Boys music blaring from the radio. Time to engage in that great American warm weather tradition—the vegetarian barbecue.

Okay, so maybe barbecuing isn't the thing most people think of in vegetarian summer activities. It does seem odd that health conscious vegetarians would ever want to coat their food with a possibly carcinogenic (and definitely not healthy) layer of soot. Nevertheless, we vegetarians do barbecue, and I think it's probably one of those things we do better than meat eaters. Think about it. Our barbecued meals have to be more creative than meat eaters', and they never suffer from the "Gee, Dad, how come this chicken's black on the outside and raw on the inside?" syndrome.

When I say "we vegetarians" do a better barbecue than meat-eaters I'm of course not referring to myself. Actually I'm lousy at it. I seem to have this one failing that severely hampers my barbecue ability—I can't light a fire.

Oh, I've tried. I've doused the charcoal with enough lighter fluid to have our patio listed by the EPA as a major hydrocarbon polluter. The treetops can singe off in our back yard but the charcoal never even gets warm for me. And I've tried that expensive kind of charcoal you're supposed to be able to light with a match, too. I couldn't light it with a blowtorch. My wife Susan thinks it's because I'm a Pisces. Water signs can never light fires, she says.

We barbecued the other night. I tried an electric fire starter I found at a garage sale. You're supposed to be able to plug the thing in and have a hot bed of coals in ten minutes. After about an hour my grill seemed to be warm and, even though I'd used enough power to cause a brownout in a three-county area, I was proud of myself.

I put the food on and sat back, awaiting those wonderful carcinogenic smells of barbequing food. About two hours later (I think it was almost dark) Susan began inquiring as to when we might eat. I checked the grill.

"Looks like this baby's done," I said, holding up a limp slice of onion. "Maybe we should keep it warm inside while everything else finishes up out here."

She looked sadly down at the grill and tried to feel if there was any warmth at all coming out of coals. Her stomach growled. I knew what she was thinking—maybe we should put it all in the oven.

"Today we barbecue," she said, growing suddenly philosophical. "Tomorrow we microwave."

That reminded me of the sayings of Confuscious, which I try to memorize for appropriate moments like this. "Many man bite," I responded, "but fu-man-chu."

My friends Fred and Blake (neither of whom is vegetarian) have the right idea about barbequing. Fred gave up on charcoal a while back and bought a gas grill.

"But how do you get that good carcinogenic barbecue flavor?" I asked him.

"Ah," he said, his eyes lighting up. "Soaked wood chips tossed in on the burner." The true modern solution to barbequing, I guess.

Blake doesn't use charcoal either. Instead, contrary to all local fire ordinances, he uses fireplace-sized logs in his grill. When he gets it fired up the flames go about twelve feet high and put out enough heat that he can comfortably barbecue nine months a year. How does he cook food on top of such a contraption? He doesn't bother.

Actually, I hope more vegetarians will take up barbequing, and that one day we can dispel its image as an activity dominated by meat-eaters. I have a vision of the suburban backyard of the future. A bunch of kids are playing on the swing set and some women are setting out potato salad and iced tea on the picnic table. Three paunchy, middle-aged men stand with utensils in their hands, staring blankly into a smoking grill.

"How do you fix your tofu, Ralph?" one asks. "Mine always comes out dry."

What to Cook

Almost anything barbecues well if you first brush it liberally with olive oil. My favorites:

leeks
corn
eggplant

Also try chunks of potatoes (cook inside until almost done) and onions. When brown, put in a bowl with more olive oil, dill weed, dill seed, pepper, and minced garlic. Serve hot. Wonderful!

For the traditionalist, all kinds of fake hamburgers and hot dogs barbecue well. Even better is tempeh. Slice it thin and use plenty of good barbecue sauce. (Look for molasses instead of sugar on the label.)

Test Your Vegetarian Social Skills

2009-05-13T19:37:00.003-06:00

No one will argue that we vegetarians often have a unique perspective on things. In a meat-eating world this can, of course, lead to the occasional social faux pas, possibly resulting in the death or dismemberment of the vegetarian in question.

But never fear, my fellow faux pas-ers. Help is on the way! As a public service of this column, and despite the total lack of cooperation from Miss Manners and Ann Landers, you can now test your knowledge of how the model vegetarian should handle him or herself in a variety of challenging social situations. Just answer the exciting questions below:

Situation #1—Dealing with Rednecks. You are at a stoplight in your trusty Yugo when five large men in hunting outfits pull up next to you in a pickup truck. Their tongues loosened by malted beverages, and their intellectual curiosity piqued by the bumper stickers on your car, they begin making such enlightened comments as "What's the matter—afraid to eat a little meat?", "Hey, is that tofu, or is that your face?" and "Your mother wears army boots." Do you:

a. Patiently explain your vegetarian philosophy, and ask that they join you and your mother for dinner (so they can see she really prefers Birkenstocks).

b. Get out of the car and show them your vegetarian biceps. Then quickly paste a bumper sticker on their truck and run like hell.

c. Refuse to engage in any incendiary dialog, at least until they offer you a beer.

You are correct if you answered b. Scientific studies have proven that people quickly adapt their own behavior to the values advocated by their bumper stickers. Had you followed this simple procedure you would have avoided conflict and had them drinking carrot juice before the light changed.

Situation #2—Dealing with Neighbors. You do a good deed for Mrs. Frupendorf, the sweet old lady next door. Later that afternoon while you're working in the yard she "thanks" you by bringing over homemade cookies and a big glass of milk. With an innocent smile she says, "I really want to watch you enjoy this!" Do you:

a. Patiently explain that you are a "vegan," and that means the butter and eggs in the cookies, not to mention the milk, aren't on your diet. (After which, she will stare at you blankly and ask why you don't like her cookies.)

b. Excuse yourself to answer the phone, and let her stand in your driveway until she gives up and goes home.

c. Pretend you are enjoying her gift, while secretly putting everything down your shirt.

The correct answer is c. Vegetarians should always be polite, even at the expense of some physical discomfort.

Situation #3—Dealing with Relatives. Your rich Uncle Hairy (his mother couldn't spell) is dying. He's never agreed with your diet, and now he promises to leave you $5 million if he can just have the satisfaction of seeing you eat a steak on his deathbed. Otherwise the money goes to the Friends of Pork Chops. Do you:

a. Eat the steak, hope you don't die, and ease your guilt by giving half the money to the vegetarian charity of your choice.

b. Take advantage of Hairy's failing eyesight by hiring a starving actor to eat the steak.

c. Explain the conviction of your beliefs one more time, and hope that Hairy will respect you enough to leave you the money anyway.

Don't even think about answering c! Vegetarians must be opportunistic if we have any hope of surviving in today's world. No, b. is the obvious choice here.

Situation #4—Dealing with Authority Figures. You are 17 and madly in love with Susie, the cutest girl at school. She invites you over to meet her father who, it turns out, is the infamous Marine Colonel Charley "Nukemal" Morris. When the good Colonel hears about the diet of the fellow dating his daughter he calls you a communist and threatens you with grievous bodily injury. Do you:

a. Beg his forgiveness and promise to start eating meat.

b. Change the subject by asking how he got the nickname "Nukemal".

c. Challenge him to a fight to the death over his daughter.

Answers b or c could be hazardous to your health. No, the correct answer here is a. We vegetarians are a peace-loving lot, and prefer even a tad of dishonesty to violent confrontation. Anyway, the Colonel is a control freak and will get a charge out of this. Just make sure you leave before dinner.

Score Your Vegetarian Social Awareness:

0 correct—Your vegetarian social skills are nothing like mine (thank goodness!) Congratulations!

1-3 correct—You are "average" in every way.

4 correct—You've been reading this column way too long. Get a life.

The Piano Question

2009-05-08T07:21:00.002-06:00

Several months ago I started the search to buy a piano. I'm not a very good musician, but I love to play, and I figured what the heck, the time was right to go from my little plastic keyboard to a real instrument.

I looked at a bunch of pianos and quickly found one I really, really liked. That was when the salesman spoiled my excitement by saying, "You know, this is a truly fine instrument. It has leather key bushings!"

Leather???

"Uh oh," I thought, glancing down at my vegetarian-approved canvas shoes and nylon belt, "Here's a problem."

The Moral Dilemma

Like most vegetarians I've made a conscious effort over the years to try to avoid animal suffering in other areas of my lifestyle besides just my diet—and I think I've been moderately successful. I've decried animal testing, generally avoided silk and wool, and haven't bought a pair of leather shoes in a dozen years. But I wasn't prepared to face the fact that an otherwise perfect piano would have offending substances hidden deep in its bowels. I knew I needed help with this one, and I decided to query some of my super-proper, ultra-vegetarian friends. They're smarter than I am. They'd know what to do.

Susan Says No

"It's out of the question."

I looked at Susan incredulously and tried to gather my thoughts. I was afraid she would have this reaction. "But it's only a tiny bit of leather. I could give away the old shoes in the back of my closet and put more leather than that back into circulation. I could make a simultaneous donation to an animal-rights cause and everyone would be better off. And anyway, my organ donor card is signed—I'm planning on passing on a little skin of my own for a good cause!"

"You could do all that stuff without buying this piano," she said. "You're just rationalizing."

"Sure. But everyone rationalizes—it's practically required for human beings. You, for example, take photographs even though you know film has animal ingredients. And you feed meat to your cats."

"That's different," she said quickly. "I don't have a choice there. I'm not going to let my cats starve. If all pianos had leather in them the situation would be different."

"It would?" I thought about that comment for a long time, but couldn't quite see the logic. In any event, this wasn't helping my quest for the piano of my dreams.

Kristin Says No

"How could you, a vegan, even consider such a thing?"

I hadn't expected such a strong response from Kristin. After all, she's a college professor who teaches ethics and animal rights, and by profession she has to consider both sides of every argument. "But you sometimes buy leather shoes yourself!" I countered.

"Yes, but I thought you were more ethically consistent than I am on this issue."

"Me??? How come I have to set the example? I just want a decent piano to play."

"Well, buy a different piano then."

"Would it matter if all pianos had leather in them?" I asked.

"Sure. That would be different."

I still didn't understand this logic, but she was the professor. She must know.

Peter Says Maybe

"It wouldn't bother me. …But then, I'm not you."

Peter was being diplomatic, but his approach was helpful.

"We can't do everything," he went on. "The important thing is that we do what we can."

"But how do we know when we've reached the point where we've done all we can? Animal exploitation is involved in so many products, there's always something else we can eliminate from our lives. And there are always ways we can improve our lifestyles. For example, if we stopped using cars in the summertime we'd save the lives of a gazillion bugs who end up smashed on windshields and radiators—but I've yet to meet an ethical vegetarian who's willing to go that far."

"Exactly," Peter agreed. "You have to lead your life—and nobody expects it to be a life of sacrifice. You can only do what you can do."

The Plot Thickens

After talking with Peter I resumed my piano search, still pondering the moral question, but with a better sense of perspective. It was only when I did more research, though, that I discovered a new and tragic fact—all pianos have leather in them. All pianos??? All acoustic pianos, anyway. Little bits of leather get stuck into the action and the trapwork (that's piano lingo for keys and pedals). Nylon or plastic or rubber would probably work just as well, but leather is traditional, and in the piano business that seems to be pretty important. Now my dilemma had expanded from which piano to buy to whether I should buy a piano at all. Maybe I should even refuse to play anyone else's piano.

Casting the 'Net

It occurred to me that I probably wasn't the first vegetarian piano player to have this problem, and it turns out I'm not. On the Internet I found a vegan discussion group that had dealt with the issue. Unfortunately, they didn't reach any conclusions. There were comments everywhere from "it feels like I'm playing on a corpse" to the sarcastic "do you walk on the ground, or do you hover, to avoid causing needless pain to ants?"

A Resolution?

If you're looking for a resolution to this question, you've come to the wrong column. It seems to me, though, that Peter has a point—in a world that exploits animals at the slightest provocation, we just can't do everything. So maybe the trick is for each of us to find that combination of things (being a vegetarian is a really great start!) that minimizes our guilt, but still lets us lead an enjoyable and meaningful life. Rationalization is nothing to be proud of, but in a society where animal exploitation finds its way into tires and postage stamps, it may be necessary if a sensitive person is to keep his or her sanity.

No, I still haven't bought a piano. But I probably will at some point. When I do I'm sure I'll be making a little "extra" contribution to an animal rights organization for the privilege. Come to think of it, I probably won't be buying much film for a while either.

Understanding (?) “Supplements”

2009-04-26T16:44:00.003-06:00

As a vegetarian, people are constantly asking me what kind of "supplements" I take. I grin meekly and try to change the subject. You see, I don't understand nutritional supplements. And since personal involvement with them is almost mandatory for vegetarians and others concerned with their diets, I feel left out. I'm somehow missing the attraction.

Everyone I meet seems to think life itself depends on taking some kind of supplement, or more often many supplements, on a regular basis. Consider my friend Lee, for example. At every meal he sits down with a little plastic bag filled with various kinds of pills. He claims that these little babies, combined with his new diet (lots of protein, no starch, no fruit) have brought him back from the very brink of metabolic disaster. I guess I can't argue the point. He seems pretty much like always to me though, except that he's getting thinner every time I see him. "No fruit?" I say. "Are you sure that's healthy?"

My friend Cheryl is awfully skinny too, although she'll never admit it. She drinks bright-green fruit shakes every morning that have algae something-or-other powder in them. I'm sure they're healthy as all get out, but how much healthier does someone who would never touch a speck of meat, dairy, sugar, caffeine, alcohol, or refined anything really have to be?

I guess that raises one of the questions I have about nutritional supplements. How come the people who eat the healthiest diets and have the healthiest lifestyles are a zillion times more likely to buy these products than the folks who live on pizza and wouldn't know an antioxidant if it crawled up their shins? Why should it be us vegetarians, who already eat a diet that is by its nature steeped in vitamins and minerals, who buy all the supplements? If organic foods are so great, why do we need pills and powders and potions besides? Did the Almighty design humans wrong, or was it his/her design of food that was in error? How did people survive for the first 4 million years before the GNC store opened up in the local mall?

Okay, I know I'm getting carried away here. I know that the soils our food is grown in get worse every year, and our scientific knowledge of what our bodies need gets better.

And I know that I'm jealous too—because every time I have tried to supplement my diet with the latest recommended new and exciting vitamin or mineral I haven't felt a darned bit of difference. Nothing. Nada. Nil. It doesn't matter whether I'm megadosing (is that a word?) on vitamin C, or cramming down organic multi-vitamins the size of avocado pits. I can take a whole bottle of melatonin and still lie awake at night. I take the same echinacea and zinc cold remedies everyone else swears by, and all I manage to do is cut the length of my colds from a week to seven days.

I don't think it's because I'm doing anything wrong. I think it's me personally. My body is somehow stifled from all those years of living on beer nuts and New Coke. My special neuron-fired nutritional supplement receptors are all shot.

The other day someone recommended a new supplement that's all the rage. She claimed it would fix my lousy knees—guaranteed. I went to the natural foods grocery all excited. This time I was going to make it work.

I was only in the store a minute, though, before I realized there are two more good reasons why I don't take regular nutritional supplements. Most of the bottles of this wonder drug I looked at were replete with animal ingredients. Whoa! I thought. Maybe it isn't vegetarians who take most of this stuff after all. Or at least they aren't vegetarian when they finish taking it. The other big shocker was the sticker price. Thirty-six dollars for this tiny bottle of pills? What do they put in here? Is one of those animal ingredients Beluga caviar? Is each pill individually wrapped in mink??

I went over to the other side of the store and spent my $36 on good-old vegetarian food, and to console myself a pint of dairyless ice cream. When my knees get real, real bad I'll probably break down and buy some of that magic potion. Until then, let me pout and wallow in my cynicism. Maybe I'm not ready to understand supplements.

***************************

P.S.: Americans spend $5 billion a year on nutritional supplements. That's cheap compared to the $1 trillion we spend on non-preventive health care every year, but it's still an awful lot of money. (Heck, for that amount of money the government could buy almost a dozen screwdrivers and/or toilet seats. Even better, Hollywood could make Titanic II-The Resurrection.)

As this is being written, the Food and Drug Administration is proposing new rules that would prohibit supplements, which are not required to undergo rigorous scientific study, from claiming they can diagnose, treat, prevent or cure a disease or disease symptom. It may be time for some regulations like this, but let's not single out the nutrition industry. Hopefully the fine folks in Washington can work on the claims of the meat and dairy folks next!

Just for grins, I looked at some of the claims now being made by nutritional supplements in their advertising. It took me less than 5 minutes to find these:

• "strengthen the immune system, enhance memory and fight the effects of aging"

• "keeps your brain in shape"

• "earth's healthiest superfood"

• "fight the effects of pollution, stress, bacteria, and the passage of time"

• "provides you with what you desire most: energy"

• "achieve optimal health"

• "may serve as your body's own 'internal sunglasses'"

Wow! If all of these claims were true, why wouldn't I want to take all of these products, and many more? Wouldn't I be the healthiest guy alive? Wouldn't it be great to never have to worry about losing my sunglasses again? Of course, if I took all these products I know I'd be the busiest guy alive—just from swallowing all the pills. And at $36 a bottle, I'd probably be the poorest as well!

Stalking the Enemy

2009-04-15T12:05:00.003-06:00

It's a war out there. In the constant battle between us vegetarians (a/k/a, "the Forces of Good") and the animal agriculture and exploitation industries (a/k/a, "the Forces of Evil"), we have to be ever-vigilant. We have to know our enemy's every move lest we awake one day to find him (her/it) milking the innocent public or selling flank steaks on our very flanks.

As a public service of this column, (and as a way to make up for past damage), I maintain a large and talented staff of professionals who constantly monitor our adversaries and report back in exhaustive detail. …Well, actually, I just manage to check a few press releases every couple of years. But with the thought that some information is better than nothing, and with the added thought that "This page intentionally left blank" makes lousy reading, here are a few of the things the Forces of Evil have been up to lately (oh yeah, I've added a few comments of my own, too):

• The National Cattlemen's Beef Association's Beef Quality Assurance program has some exciting new research underway. In one program at the University of Colorado Health Sciences Center in Denver, one hundred breastfed infants are being studied to document the "advantages" of the early introduction of beef as a weaning food.

Are there no child abuse laws in this country???

• In another study the "cattlemen" are trying to show that some bacteria in ground beef may actually help reduce the incidence of E. coli O157:H7.

Sure, we know that ground "beef" is full of bacteria, but using these little guys as a way to enhance the "quality" of this "food" is something only the meat industry could come up with.

• Fur Age magazine reports that increased international demand for mink pelts is outpacing supply, forcing prices to skyrocket. That means the price for even "entry-level mink" coats has risen to $4,000 to $5,000 at the retail level.

Aren't you glad you have other things to spend your money on?

• The American Egg Board tells us that a blood spot on the yolk of an egg is an indication that the egg is fresh.

Mmm!

• "British Meat," a group from you-know-where organized to promote you-know-what, publishes "healthy eating" information and recipes under the slogan "The Recipe for Love…Meal solutions for every occasion."

If this is love, I'd hate to see what their "hate" recipes are like.

• In its official position on vegetarianism, the National Pork Producers Council describes that industry's killing of animals as "the pork industry's supposed destructive impact on a hog's right to 'hogness'."

Euphemisms get more euphemistic every day!

• And while we're on the subject of "hogness," the Wild Boar Farmers of Alberta want us to know that the use of a marinade or cooking sauce and oven temperatures no greater than 325°F will maintain a moist product and tenderize "The Meat fit for a King."

Does this mean that cooking it any other way may leave you with "the shoe leather fit for a soldier?"

• According to Lab Animal magazine the government breeding program for captive chimpanzees has resulted in significant surplus populations. Since the cost of maintaining a chimp over an average 25- to 34- year life-span is approximately $300,000, industry and government researchers have a real problem, and they are now encouraging animal-protection organizations to take them off the hook by developing sanctuary facilities for chimpanzees.

Sure, but are they willing to send money? Is this one of those "I told you so" situations?

• A survey of American eating habits commissioned by the American Meat Institute finds that more than 99% of Americans eat meat, and "self-reported meat avoiders and vegetarians" consume only about one ounce per day less meat than other folks.

Yes, but we vegetarians always lie to pollsters.

• That same survey, known as EAT II (really!), also finds that while most Americans need to eat more fruits and vegetables, we aren't (surprise, surprise!) eating too much meat.

And just how fat do they want us to be???

• By the time you read this the Veal Committee of the National Cattlemen's Beef Association will have introduced their new "veal" advertising slogan and logo. The tagline is "Veal. Eat Smart. Eat Well."

I guess if you can't manage to say something substantive, you may as well make up something silly. Hey, these guys should write this column!

Selling the Vegetarian Cause—Moonies, A Yawn, and No Respect

2009-04-08T15:36:00.003-06:00

Some time ago I was at a party with a bunch of other vegetarians. One of the guests was bemoaning the fact that it was hard to make meat-eaters see the advantages of vegetarianism. "They don't get it," he kept saying. "They just don't get it."

At the time I thought it was an odd thing to say. You either "got it" or you didn't, as if vegetarianism was some kind of counterculture religion, or maybe the latest pop psychology trend? But the more I've thought about it, the more I feel that guy was exactly right. Just like religion, vegetarianism is a hard sell, and those who aren't buying really aren't buying.

Everyone in the world has a cause these days. But not all causes are created equal—at least in the eyes of the public. There are some things that almost everyone supports. Tell someone you're a Big Brother or you work for the Special Olympics, for example, and they'll immediately warm up to you.

On the other side of the spectrum are what I call the "love/hate" groups. They get an immediate reaction—pro or con—from almost everyone. Examples that come to mind are Planned Parenthood, the Neo-Nazis, and those "feed Jane Fonda to the Whales" people at the airport. And remember a few years ago when people were accusing the "Moonies" of brainwashing their kids? Not many people could remain neutral on that issue.

Most causes, though, are less controversial. They have their followers, and in some cases their detractors, but the majority of us don't really think much about them. I think for the most part vegetarianism as a cause is in this largely ignored group. But as the movement gains momentum I get the feeling we may be drifting into that small group of causes that people either love or hate. It seems that lately when I extol the virtues of vegetarianism I have been getting a stronger and stronger reaction.

It happened again the other day. A woman at work asked me why I'm a vegetarian.

"Well...," I said, giving her my most sincere smile. "...Let me just tell you."

I launched into my canned 10 minute speech on the merits of vegetarianism. Unfortunately, I didn't get far—maybe forty-five seconds into it—when I saw her eyes glaze over and she stifled a yawn. Knowing I was going to lose her if I didn't do something, I skipped straight to the end of my speech where I get to the heavy stuff like veal calves and world starvation. The bored look turned to terror, as if I was carrying a bomb or (even worse) asking her for money. She started taking large backward steps, and I suddenly felt about as welcome a Bobby Seale at a DAR convention.

I guess the message is clear. Everybody knows we vegetarians are around, and most of the time they don't really care. To the average meat eater out there our cause is about as important as the Rochester Worm Museum, of the Albanian Home for Aging Soldiers. When we really press the issue, though, it gets personal. At that point the meat eater will either "get it," or treat us like a Moonie hanging around the local playground. It seems that just like the Moonies and those other love/hate groups, we don't yet have the respect of most of those who disagree with us.

The early days of the anti-smoking movement must have been like this. Those people probably encountered lots of hostility from smokers and industry lobbyists. Their persistence paid off, though. As people started to learn and accept the facts, they became much more receptive. Even though there are still plenty of smokers in the world, the anti-smokers are generally acknowledged as having a legitimate cause, and being on the "right" side of the issue. Truth won out in the end.

Hopefully it won't be long before vegetarians get that kind of respect. I know the day will come, because vegetarianism is such a great cause. After all, look at its attributes: it doesn't cost any money to participate, we don't advocate the violent overthrow of the government, and we won't even try to brainwash your kids.

If only people knew.

Still More Pathetic Tales of the Veggie Avenger

2009-01-02T09:19:00.001-07:00

"Store Wars"

When we last left the Veggie Avenger, our favorite vegetarian activist was shamelessly accosting meat-eaters in his jobs as an elevator operator and waiter. Unfortunately, those jobs didn't last long. Employers, it seems, were quick to realize that a tactless vegetarian superhero was not their ideal choice in interacting with the public. Nevertheless, the Veggie Avenger remains undaunted. "Hey," he says with a shrug, "why be subtle if you know you're right?" Yes, it's clear that this is a man of principle—at least until his unemployment checks run out.

The Veggie Avenger has been spending his free time (actually, all of his time is free time) pasting nasty stickers on the meat packages at some of Big City's supermarkets. The stickers have sayings on them like: "My name was Elsie, and I had brown eyes," and "Beef: Real Food for Morons." The Veggie Avenger is very proud of himself for being so clever. Suddenly, he senses someone behind him. He turns around to see a butcher the size of Delaware, with arms like fir trees.

Butcher: So, you're the guy who's been treading on our tenderloin!

Veggie Avenger [articulate, as usual]: Who, me??

The butcher grabs our hero's throat with a blood-stained hand and starts pulling him down the aisle. There's the sound of Converse All-Stars squeaking as they drag along the linoleum floor.

Butcher: I've got a meat saw in the back I want you to get acquainted with.

Veggie Avenger [unable to breath]: Arrghh!

Just then a little old lady shopper whacks the butcher in the ribs with her cane.

Little Old Lady: Hey fatso, what are you doing with the geek?

Butcher: I'm going to soak him in meat tenderizer 'til he dissolves.

Veggie Avenger: Arrghh!

By this time several shoppers have gathered around to watch the commotion. The store manager comes over to intervene.

Store Manager: What's going on?

Little Old Lady [pointing to the butcher]: Arnold Schwarzenegger here is trying to deep-six this pathetic hippie.

Butcher: He's the one who's been putting the stickers on our meat. I'm going to lock him up in cold storage for a couple of days.

Veggie Avenger: Arrghh!

Manager: Hmm. Sounds like a violation of Federal product tampering laws to me. I'd better call the FBI.

Veggie Avenger [by this time turning blue, with his eyes bulging out]: Arrghh! Arrghh!

Little Old Lady: Let me take him home with me, boys. I'll straighten him out.

Manager: Lady, if you promise to keep him out of the store, he's yours.

Reluctantly, the butcher takes his hand off the Veggie Avenger's throat. Our hero, breathing again, knows he's won another battle. Air returns to his lungs. A confident look returns to his face, and he smirks at the butcher and store manager. He's just about to thank the little old lady when he feels her iron grip on his arm and the rap of her cane on his shins.

Little Old Lady: Now come along with me, sonny. I'm going to fix you a nice bowl of chicken soup.

Veggie Avenger: Arrghh!!!

The Four Words Missing from the English Language

2008-11-05T11:42:00.002-07:00

We speakers of English really have it made. Our language is probably the most comprehensive tool for expressing ourselves ever developed by humankind. The Oxford English Dictionary contains about a quarter of a million distinct English words. When we consider that many of those words have multiple meanings and can be used in multiple senses (for example as both a noun and a verb), the number of usable words increases dramatically. Add on top of that hundreds of thousands of different chemicals, drugs and other scientific names, and the list of English words could easily top a million.

You'd think with all those words at our disposal—with the ability to call at will upon such goodies as "bower" and "kip" and "wincey"—that everyday speech and writing would be a breeze. Well, it would be, except for the sad fact that there are four words missing from the English language. Missing?! Yes, and these are not obscure words either. I'm not talking about, for example, a word to express the wrinkles under the legs of a horny toad. No, these are words that, if available, we would use all the time in our everyday lives. These are words that we need, and they don't exist!

I won't keep you in suspense any longer. The four words missing from the English language are words needed to express the common pronouns "he" and "she" and their variations in a gender-neutral manner. Simply put, we need a word that means "he or she," a word that means "him or her," a word that means "his or hers" and a word that means "himself or herself."

In these politically-correct times, most of us want to give both sexes their due, but without these words available to us that can often be difficult. Consider, for example, how cumbersome this simple English sentence becomes: "When the person in the chicken suit gets here, he or she may need to excuse himself or herself, because his or her sports team is trying to reach him or her."

Isn't that a mess?! And it gets worse when the context of what we're saying or writing demands that we go on like this for sentence after sentence. Most people just give up and use the male pronouns to implicitly include the female, kind of like using "mankind" when you really mean "humankind." But that, of course, simply ignores the problem, and it certainly isn't gender-neutral, even if you reverse it and throw in some "shes" and "hers" every few sentences.

Worse yet is when people wrongly use variants of the plural word "they" in referring to an individual man or woman, as in "The person in the chicken suit just fell on their tail." This drives me nuts, and it just emphasizes that English does have gender-neutral pronouns for multiple men and/or women, but not for the singular.

I think we can do better. If we can come up with 40 silly new drug names every day, surely we can coin four new words that we really need.

Here's my suggestion. Rather than coming up with totally new words that people will have to learn from scratch, lets just combine the existing male and female pronouns into new words. For example, "heshe" refers to a person of indeterminate sex, "hisher" is its possessive form, and "himherself" is… well, you know what it is. For the objective form I suggest "herhim," because it puts the woman first for once, I like the way it rolls off the tongue, and it creates an exception to the rule—something for which English is known.

So, lets take these new words for a spin. If we go back to our original sentence, it's much simpler now: "When the person in the chicken suit gets here, heshe may need to excuse himherself, because hisher sports team is trying to reach herhim." If it still sounds a little awkward, that's just because you aren't used to hearing the words yet. Remember how odd and silly words like "Flonase" and "GasX" sounded when you first heard them? …Okay, so they still sound silly. But trust me; with a little practice these new pronouns will become second nature.

So there you have it—"heshe," "hisher," "himherself" and "herhim"—four new words the English language desperately needs. Start using them today, and if we're lucky the editor of the Oxford English Dictionary will make them official in hisher next edition!

Becoming a Vegetarian—A Personal Remembrance

2008-10-23T14:33:00.001-06:00

For many of us who were originally of the meat-eating persuasion, the conversion to vegetarianism was lengthy and convoluted. After all, major lifestyle changes of any kind don't normally happen overnight. The desire and motivation to change require knowledge and outside influence, to be sure. But it also takes something intangible. From speaking with vegetarians, I've found most of them were guided much more by their hearts than by a rational decision-making process.

I know that was true for me. Looking back on it, I can trace my own conversion to vegetarianism to a series of learning and changing steps that started when I was very young.

The Unknown

When I was a kid my mother's best friend had a vegetarian uncle. The women used to sit at the kitchen table with their tea and talk about him in hushed, embarrassed tones. Maybe I wasn't supposed to know, but of course I overheard everything. I was fascinated. In my mind I tried to imagine someone who didn't eat meat. I conjured up a dark image of a strange, antisocial man. Perhaps someone with a scraggly beard and long, unkempt fingernails.

One day my mother took me aside and confided to me. "He doesn't even wear leather," she said with wide eyes. Wow, I thought. This new information was just too much for me to reconcile with my eight-year-old suburban American view of life. Suddenly the mysterious character I had envisioned was barefoot besides. The thought haunted me for days. He doesn't eat meat or even wear leather, I kept thinking. What an odd person he must be.

I never met the mysterious "vegetarian uncle," and I suppose after a while I pretty much forgot about him. I was busy growing up, and vegetarianism was the farthest thing from my mind. School, friends and activities consumed my time and my thoughts.

Rejection

By the time I got to high school the country was in the throes of the social revolution of the '60s. New ideas were being tried and old values were subject to question. One day my best friend announced that he had become a vegetarian. I have vivid memories of him visiting our house—sitting at my family's dinner table and refusing to eat anything.

I felt betrayed. Here was someone I thought I could trust, and suddenly he was rejecting the meat-eating lifestyle I had grown up with, and my family had practiced for generations. I was angry at both him and the whole concept of vegetarianism. It was wrong, I told myself. It just had to be wrong.

My friend didn't stay a vegetarian for long. After a few months he moved on to other causes, and I was relieved because we no longer had a major rift between us.

Curiosity

It was several years before I was to confront vegetarianism again. This time I was in college. My junior year I moved to a new dormitory and quickly discovered that a large percentage of the people with whom I was now living were vegetarian. I would sit across from them in the dining hall eating my roast beef and eyeing them—at first suspiciously, but then with a good measure of curiosity. They looked healthy, I thought. Some of them were even fine athletes. They didn't talk a lot about their vegetarianism, but I sensed a great deal of commitment. I knew it took courage to go against the norm, and as I watched them eat their vegetables and grains I couldn't help but be impressed.

The more I learned about vegetarianism, and the more I thought about it, the more conflicted I became. In the back of my mind I was starting to realize that vegetarianism was for me. Intellectually and emotionally I agreed with everything about it. But I just couldn't admit that to myself. Instead I tried in vain to rationalize meat-eating. I was afraid, I guess. Afraid to give up those late night trips to the diner for a hamburger, and even more afraid of the reaction I would get from family and carnivorous friends if I suddenly went meatless. I took the coward's way out—I did nothing.

Acceptance

Three months after I graduated from college I moved to a big city hundreds of miles from home. For the first time in my life I was truly on my own. I didn't know anyone. It was only there, in the security that my solitude offered, that I did something I'd probably wanted to do for a long time. I became a vegetarian.

Over the years since then people have asked me if it's difficult to give up meat. No, I tell them with a casual shrug, it's very easy. I guess what I don't tell them about are the years that I spent finding out about vegetarianism and then struggling to reconcile it with my lifestyle. In retrospect vegetarianism is a snap—the choice is clear, and there are very few worthwhile things in life as easy to implement.

It's just that some of us, I suppose, were a little slow to learn.

More Tales of the Veggie Avenger—The Saga of “Vegetables Fred”

2008-10-09T15:21:00.001-06:00

The Veggie Avenger, our superhero of vegetarian superheroes, has lost his position as an elevator operator. (His boss gave some flimsy excuse about rudeness and body parts getting caught in the doors.) Desperately in need of money he takes a job as a waiter in one of Big City's swankiest restaurants. Clad in a tuxedo but still wearing his traditional white canvas tennis shoes, our hero feels a little out of place as he waits on his first customers– a middle-aged man and woman from the suburbs.

Man: What exactly is the Veal Oscar?

Veggie Avenger: Actually, Oscar was the name of the calf. We were all very fond of him. [He sniffles] We'll miss him a lot.

Man [taken aback]: Oh, I see. Well, how's the lamb tonight?

VA: He's dead too.

Man [losing patience]: Yes, I know that. I was referring to his...uh, its taste.

VA: Oh, not bad. He did have the one John Denver album, and for some reason he liked Sylvester Stallone movies. But other than that his taste was pretty good.

Man: Young man, you're joking with me.

VA [sincerely]: I swear I am.

Man [closing his menu]: Well, I'll just have the chicken.

VA: Chickens.

Man: Pardon?

VA: Chickens. They're individuals, you know.

The man becomes angry and gets up to leave. The Veggie Avenger fears he may have gone too far. If these customers walk out he's in danger of losing his new job before it starts, and he's already spent his first week's salary on a new bowling shirt.

VA: Please don't leave! Listen we have a terrific special tonight. We call it... uh... Vegetables Fred. It's a mixed vegetable grill sautéed in olive oil with capers and pine nuts. We serve it with fresh snow peas, red peppers with dill sauce and a tomato stuffed with wild rice. It's much tastier than some boring piece of meat, and I guarantee it's cholesterol free!

Woman [to husband]: You should watch your cholesterol.

VA: It's also five dollars cheaper than anything else on the menu.

Man [smiling now]: Actually, that does sound pretty good... Okay, I'll go with it.

[The woman nods her approval.]

The Veggie Avenger walks back to the kitchen gloating over his victory. These were his very first customers, and he's talked them into ordering vegetarian. What charm, he thinks. What savoir-faire! Only one thing worries him. How in the world is he going to talk the chef into cooking Vegetables Fred?

The Veggie Avenger's Code

The Veggie Avenger vows to fight tirelessly for truth, justice and the Vegetarian Way, and to do his best not to get arrested, beat up, or run out of beer in the process.

Morally Correct vs. Politically Correct

2008-09-15T15:46:00.002-06:00

It's only been a few days since Sarah Palin was nominated to run for Vice President of the United States, but I've already received dozens of emails from animal rights and vegetarian groups opposing her. Those emails portray her, quite honestly from what I can tell, as a passionate hunter and fur wearer who opposes protection for polar bears, likes to decorate with dead animals, and supports eradication of wolves with airplanes and high-powered rifles.

My guess is that Governor Palin probably doesn't mind these email assassinations of her character at all. Sure, the McCain ticket will probably lose some votes from animal lovers, but the image of having a gun-slinging cowboy for a Vice President (remember the old TV show Maverick?) will probably attract lots more votes than it loses.

I am personally plenty offended by Ms. Palin's beliefs and actions with respect to animals, but that's okay. I've offended lots of folks myself by espousing veganism over the years. One of the wonderful things about our country is that no one has the right not to be offended. The First Amendment guarantees it. The Governor can believe and say anything she wants, and that's what makes life in the good old U.S. of A always interesting. That's also what makes our political system so entertaining, and often so frustrating.

The real question for the election is not whether someone has the right to say or believe one thing or another—of course they do, and thank goodness we all agree on that. No, the real question for the election is whether those beliefs will negatively affect their ability to govern. "Reasonable" minds may differ on polar bear legislation or what constitutes "sport" in hunting. I'm not so worried about that. The majority of the people will decide what they decide on those issues, and that's how it should be. I think Ms. Palin's beliefs and behavior, though, tell us something even more important about her. I think they tell us that she lacks compassion and empathy, and that's where I have the problem.

Please know that I am not talking about all hunters here. I've known plenty of hunters who were wonderful, caring people. They knew what they were doing, they ate what they killed, and they had respect for wildlife (…though obviously not much respect for the individual animals that they killed). Their venison dinners caused much less suffering than a suburban hockey mom picking up KFC for the family. My friends who were hunters didn't wear fur. They didn't chase wolves with airplanes.

I personally don't think that people, like Sarah Palin, who find great entertainment and personal ego in killing and exploiting animals are wired for compassion and empathy. I doubt that in dealing with human animals their feelings are going to be much different, and for a politician that's a serious problem. We live in a much smaller world than we did when Teddy Roosevelt was President. (Who, by the way, would have made a great running mate for Ms. Palin!) The United States can't go it alone anymore. To effectively solve the world's many problems, our leaders have to work with others and understand the plight of the oppressed. They have to put themselves in the shoes of those who disagree with them, and see issues from all different viewpoints. In other words, an important prerequisite for the job should be the very compassion and empathy Sarah Palin lacks. The world has already had too many leaders who prefer shooting things from airplanes; what we need now are leaders who can use the tools of dialog and understanding.

I find Governor Palin's current popularity terribly sad. Sure it's sad for the animals in question, but it's sad for people and our society as well. It's sad that, in an era when politicians bend over backwards to be politically correct, it's still okay for someone running for the second-highest office in the land to publically portray herself as an animal abuser. I guess what's morally correct doesn't become politically correct until enough voters care about it. Thomas Jefferson could get elected President despite a sadly small minority of people objecting to the fact that he was a slave owner, and now, two hundred years later, Sarah Palin might well be elected Vice President despite a sadly small minority of people objecting to the fact that she mistreats animals.

I know I shouldn't be sad. For now, Sarah Palin can say and do as she pleases, and I can vote for… well, for somebody else. But the fact that we have made enough progress on putting the shame of slavery behind us that we now have a black man as a serious candidate for President gives me hope. One day soon I hope that we'll put the shame of killing and exploiting animals for our own amusement and vanity equally far behind us. When that happens, politics will be even more entertaining, and far less frustrating.

Getting All Choked Up on Old Food

2008-09-07T10:53:00.002-06:00

Over the years I've found that there are certain advantages to being part of the so-called "baby-boomer" generation. There are so many of us that we have a purchasing power probably no other demographic group can match. Consequently, businesses tend to cater to us, and certainly advertisers target us. As we go through the years most of the national trends seem to follow our station in life, or at least what somebody thinks our station in life should be.

Perhaps nowhere is this more true than in the food industry. I don't think it's just my imagination, for example, that in the late 1960s and early 1970s when we were students there were a lot of restaurants around that sported rustic wood paneling and sitar music. They all had mellow "waitpeople" that plied us with mango juice and "Ethereal Planet Burgers." Sprouts were everywhere.

In the 1980s our generation turned materialistic with a vengeance, and the food industry was there to capitalize on it. The "Whole Life Café" was suddenly renamed the "Exchange Grill," and it began catering to the power lunch set. The ferns were taken out, and the paneling was changed from old barn siding to polished mahogany. Even Jeff, the catatonic waiter who had been there ever since that day he wandered in on his way back from Woodstock, had changed. He was now referred to as "Geoffrey," and he wore a tux and worked at being rude.

Supermarkets took advantage of the materialism of the 1980s as well. They made a killing by offering expensive vegetables that no one ever heard of, and by selling gourmet frozen dinners to busy working people for twelve dollars apiece.

Now that the 1990s are upon us, the food industry has once again changed the way it relates to the baby-boom generation. Someone has gotten the idea that now that we're getting a little long in the tooth, we must all be responsible family people. That means we have to make decisions about what we feed our children and, even more important, it means we are starting to get nostalgic about what we ate as a kid.

The food industry seems to have created a clever and highly profitable marketing plan to take advantage of these assumptions they have made about us. I say highly profitable because, by pushing nostalgia on us, they can sell all those old products they've been making for forty years. The hope, of course, is that not only will we try these things again for "nostalgic" reasons, but we'll feed them to our kids as well.

All of this has made watching television almost unbearable (all right, even more unbearable.) Over the past few months I've heard corny jingles and seen cartoon mascots that I thought had mercifully died in the fifties. Even lowly products like corn flakes are getting national airtime at two hundred thousand dollars a minute.

By far the worst of all these nostalgia ads is one that shows a decidedly yuppie-looking fellow patiently teaching his too-cute-to-be-believed son the proper method of eating an Oreo cookie. This is no subtle manipulation of the buyer at home. This is shameless sentimentality, and I guess I resent the fact that it is aimed at my generation.

I, for one, am not going to get caught up in this food nostalgia thing. Mostly, that's because when I look back on the things I ate twenty or thirty years ago I have only to borrow a phrase from the generation after mine: gag me with a spoon! I remember that as a kid (in those dark pre-vegetarian days) my favorite dinner was a twenty-five cent box of macaroni and cheese mix with a couple of hot dogs sliced up in it. I'd wash that down with about a quart of cheap, store brand ice cream. This is something to be nostalgic about?

Things didn't improve very quickly, either. As a student living in poverty I was fond of microwaved American cheese sandwiches (at least they were fast) and salads made of nothing but iceberg lettuce. These are days to be remembered, but certainly not days to be relived.

Now I don't want to sound snobby about all of this, but vegetarians are by definition choosier than the general public about what they put in their bodies. We, more than most people, feel that our diet has become a little more sophisticated, a little healthier, over the years. That being the case, we're not likely to take a step backwards twenty or thirty years for any reason, much less at the urgings of some advertiser trying to make a buck off food nostalgia.

So don't I ever get nostalgic about food? Well, yes. But only food from my post-vegetarian era. On occasion I remember how nice the Whole Life Cafe used to be. We would sit there amongst the knotty pine and play with the honey container on the table while we waited for our dinner. And you know, when he wasn't stoned, old Jeff could be a pretty darned good waiter, too. Sometimes, when I ordered the Ethereal Planet Burger, he'd give me extra sprouts.

Mark's All-Star List of Foods Consumed During the (Pre-Vegetarian) 1960s

Kool Aid (I didn't even like it very much as a kid)
Cool Whip (At least they spelled it right)
- My Grandmother's Buttermilk Pancakes (These I could get nostalgic about—I'm waiting for the ads)
- Herring (Really, no kidding!)
- Hostess Snack Pies (They were always filled with two cherries and lots of gloppy syrup)
- Dietetic Soft Drinks with Cyclamates (At least this is one thing we won't be seeing nostalgia ads for)

Tales of the Veggie Avenger

2008-08-25T09:20:00.005-06:00

There's a new superhero on the streets of Big City. He's the Veggie Avenger, and every day he does battle against the meat industry, the milk lobby and the fast food chains. Our hero has no super-human powers. He has no mask and he has no cape (but he does
have a rather snazzy sport coat.) Relying only on his cunning and his good eyesight, he works to preserve the not-so-American way of Mom, apple pie, and tofu dogs.

Today we bring you two stories of the Veggie Avenger in action.

"Tacos in the Elevator"

Our story begins as our hero has taken a job as an elevator operator in a Big City skyscraper. (In this job he truly can leap a tall building in a single bound.) The elevator fills with his first load of passengers, and, just as the door closes and they begin their ascent, the Veggie Avenger brings out an old shopping bag.

Veggie Avenger [to the passengers]: You thought this was going to be an ordinary, boring elevator ride, didn't you?

Woman [leery]: That's certainly what we were hoping for.

The Veggie Avenger moves closer, and as the crowd backs away he holds up a "recycled" (i.e., he bought it at a garage sale) Tupperware container.

Man: Is that a bomb? Are we hostages?

VA [laughing]: No! I just want to offer you free samples of the Veggie Avenger's famous earth-loving tacos. Good for you, good for the environment! They're all organic. No chemical pesticides or fertilizers, and absolutely
no animal flesh.

Woman [even more leery]: What's in them?

The Veggie Avenger, prepared as always, shrugs and mutters something about not reading the label on the package.

Young Boy [stepping forward]: I'll try one. [he puts a taco in his mouth] Hey, this is good!

Our hero smiles and pushes the Tupperware toward the other passengers. They gasp. A woman reaches into her purse for mace. A businessman defends himself with his briefcase.

Young Boy: Hey pops, let me have some more!

As the elevator door opens on the 18^th floor and the passengers flee for their lives, the Veggie Avenger is content. He's just started this job, but already he's shown a young boy the joys of vegetarianism. Smiling, and with a heart filled with love and brotherhood for his fellow creatures, he reaches over and pats the boy on the head.

Young Boy: Touch me again and I call my lawyer.

"Doggies in the Elevator"

Later that day, a woman in a full-length fur coat enters the elevator with her small daughter. The door closes and the three begin their decent to street level.

Veggie Avenger: Boy, that's some coat! Is that real dog skin?

Woman in Fur: Certainly not!

The Veggie Avenger moves closer, as if he might be about to reach out and touch the coat. The woman backs into the corner and shields her daughter with her arms.

VA: Yeah, when I was a kid my dog Flopsy had fur like that. Of course, we didn't make him into a coat or anything. No, when he died we just buried him out in the gully behind the garage. Anyway, it would have taken five, maybe six dogs the size of Flopsy to make a coat like that one.

Daughter: Mommy, is that a doggie?

Woman: Of course not honey, it's fox fur.

Daughter: What's the difference between a fox and a dog?

Woman: You know the difference; a fox is a wild animal.

Daughter: Does it look like a dog?

Woman: Just a little.

The little girl starts crying as the elevator reaches the ground and the door opens. The woman glares back at the Veggie Avenger as she leaves the elevator, her daughter in her arms. Our hero shrugs and gives her an innocent smile. But inside he's confident that there's one more little girl in the world who won't wear fur when she grows up.

Nineteen Things I Hate About Being a Vegetarian!

2008-08-16T11:38:00.001-06:00

I hate ordering a pizza, having them leave out the most expensive ingredient (the cheese), and still having to pay full price.
…Speaking of restaurants, I hate being lied to by waitpeople who are too lazy to go ask the chef, and instead tell me anything I want to hear. ("…Yeah, I think our bacon cheeseburger deluxe is totally vegetarian.")
I hate it that, even if I had the money, I couldn't even consider buying really nice shoes (leather), rugs (wool), cars (leather seats), or a myriad of other products. (Why can't they make this stuff veg-friendly?)
I hate the way plastic (phony leather) belts always fall apart.
I hate being socially rejected as a "killjoy," and never being invited to all those social events where people with the meat-eating habit get together for their "fix."
I hate it that my vegetarianism reduces my field of potential mates by 95%. (…Okay, well I guess I don't mind that maybe the competition is reduced too.)
I hate being in the Detroit airport at 9:00 at night and realizing that the limitations of my diet may make my food choices for the night less healthy (yes, the potato chips are vegan) than those of my meat-eating fellow travelers.
I hate paying twice as much for soymilk as others pay for cow's milk.
I hate having to buy the name brand of a medicine because the generic stuff only comes in "gel tabs."
I hate that my vegetarianism was always a wedge between my parents and me.
I hate being looked upon as a model for a healthy lifestyle. (Merely because I don't eat animals doesn't mean I don't have plenty of other vices!)
I hate it when people assume that, because I'm vegetarian, I must be an aging hippie. (Even if it is true.)
I hate feeling sorry for the plants I eat.
I hate the fact that my organic vegetables may be supporting factory farming. (Yes, all that organic "fertilizer" has to come from somewhere.)
I hate it whenever I make people go to any extra trouble to accommodate my vegetarianism.
I hate not being able to stop myself from preaching to my meat-eating friends, even though I know intellectually that it won't do any good and that they'll just resent me for it.
I hate the fact that nobody has developed a good, slip-on, stylish loafer that breathes and that I can wear without socks (I don't ask for much, do I?) without using leather.
I hate it when restaurants and caterers assume that, because I don't eat meat, I also don't want anything with any fat, spices, or taste whatsoever.
I love vegetarianism so much that I hate having to hate anything about it!

How Can It Kill Thee? Let Me Count The Ways…

2008-08-08T12:51:00.002-06:00

Back in the good old days, about eight Star Wars movies ago, life was simple. People ate meat and dairy products, they got heart disease and cancer, and they died. No one really understood all the intricacies of high-density lipoproteins and Omega-3 fatty acids in this process, but that didn't matter. Hey, life was simple and life was good. Life was short.

Today things are much more complicated. Today we spend half of our gross national product on exotic, biological research in level-5 isolation laboratories. We have genetically-engineered vegetables, new patented plants and animals, and we know all there is to know about the 3 natural and 52,126 artificial substances in our favorite foods.

The other half of our gross national product goes to studying everything we do and reporting on it with endless quantities of data. That data is fed into high-end scaleable vector processing system supercomputers, and what they spit back out is immediately routed by satellite and fiber optics to the four corners of our oval earth. A scientist in Tanzania can assess epidemiological data on the impact of corned beef consumption by left-handed people on Wednesdays in Ohio even before the sandwich wrappers hit the trashcans.

With all of these modern innovations, we now have all the knowledge we need to develop the perfect diets for our own health and the health of our loved ones. We pump out boxed dinners by the billion with promising names like "Healthy-Choice" and "Heart-Smart." Even our pets can eat "Science Diet."

So is life even better? Nah. People still eat meat and dairy products, get heart disease and cancer, and die. Life is still short.

One thing has changed, though. It's not just heart disease and cancer anymore, Toto. Our research and information skills have given us a much better idea of all the creative little ways that meat injures and kills us every day. What fun! Here are just a few of the things we've learned.

Exotic Diseases— People have known that infected meat is dangerous ever since the 14th century, when Tatar armies invented the first biological weapon by catapulting comrades who died of bubonic plague into the city of Kaffa. But now we have the specifics. Now we can chronicle with deadly accuracy each outbreak of Salmonella, Campylobacter, and Listeria monocytogenes, not to mention our favorite little germ with the catchy name: Escherichia coli O157:H7. Of course, all of those seem mild compared to the brain-destroying prion protein that causes the spongioform encephalopathies "mad cow disease" in bovines and Creutzfeldt-Jacob disease in the humans who eat them. Meat is now routinely sold with warning labels, and the government recently recommended warnings on chickens' eggs as well. Heck somebody even came up with a warning label for bear meat which, like "pork," presents a danger of trichinosis if the meat is cooked rare.
Exotic Toxins— Since toxins tend to accumulate in meat, these crises seem to flare up from time to time. For years the European Union and the US have argued over the EU's ban on the import and sale of meat products treated with growth hormones. Just recently another worldwide political crisis broke out when it was discovered that farm animals in Belgium had been given feed contaminated with highly toxic dioxin. (Even if these substances never kill anyone directly, the arguing over them may lead to World War III!) In another recent incident 480,000 pounds of chicken nuggets were recalled by an Indiana company because people were having violent allergic reactions after eating them. The offensive ingredient? Dairy products!
Exotic Jobs— The meat industry is a dangerous place. In 1996, 154 Americans were killed working in livestock production, 73 in commercial hunting, fishing and trapping, and 29 in slaughterhouses and meat processing plants. That same year 122,100 Americans were injured or became ill working at these same jobs.
The Truly Exotic— You want even more examples of the dangers of meat? We've got 'em! How about the 13 people who have been gored to death since Pamplona's "running of the bulls" became an international spectacle in 1926? How about the urban equivalent when, in just the past few months cows have rampaged in downtown Darwin, Australia and Atlanta, Georgia? ("traffic couldn't moove") Then there's the infamous story of the shoot-out that ensued when residents of Beaver, Oklahoma argued over ownership of "cow chips." (Apparently they were valuable as fuel.) Finally, there is the recent recommendation by a microbiologist at Kansas State University that electric bug-zappers and food should be kept apart because while they are killing insects, the zappers can spread bacteria or viruses up to six feet away.
Okay, you say, bug zappers may be dangerous, but this isn't meat-eating, per se.
Well, maybe not, but bug zapping is certainly in the same spirit. (Anyway, nobody's going to serve a vegan meal within six feet of one of those things.) I still say it's safer to be vegetarian—just like it's always been.

Mike Royko is Dead

2008-07-28T12:49:00.002-06:00

A few years ago I used this column to lampoon Mike Royko, the great Chicago newspaperman, and a column he had written lampooning vegetarians. I thought I was being very clever in my lampoon of his lampoon—shooting barbs at Mr. Royko's arguments, and pointing to the places where the humor in his writing seemed to be wearing a little thin and exposing a narrow-minded point of view. (Hey, it's always fun to be a nobody and get the chance to attack a Pulitzer Prize-winning writer!) At the end of my column I noted that if Mr. Royko really ate in the "damn the cholesterol, full speed ahead" manner he espoused, he probably wouldn't be around as a target for pot-shots for too many more years.

It turns out I was right. Mike Royko died of a brain aneurysm in April, 1997, at the relatively young age of 64.

I felt bad when I heard the news. It was one of those situations (Remember when James Garner and Dave Thomas had heart attacks at the same time their beef ads were running on television?) when we vegetarians want to say "I told you so," but at the same time we don't wish harm on anyone. And there's certainly a fine line between making fun of someone else's beliefs and making fun of them personally.

After several months of consideration though, I've decided that if I could write my Mike Royko column over again, I wouldn't change a word. There are two reasons for that decision, and they're important enough to me, and important enough to vegetarianism, that I want to point them out. I'm sure Mr. R will agree.

The Right to be Offensive

First, we live in a marvelous society that recognizes freedom of speech. And one critical element of freedom of speech (an element that rarely gets mentioned in Fourth of July parades and high school essay contests) is that no one in our society has the right not to be offended. How critical is this to the vegetarian cause? Very. Several times, even in the life of this silly little column, issues involving "political correctness," my overall bad taste, and the sensibilities of others have threatened its publication. But think about it. If we vegetarians weren't allowed to offend anyone, how on earth would we get our point across? How would we ever reach the masses of meat-eaters who don't want their comfortable lifestyles upset by something as trivial as the truth?

Being offensive may not always be something to strive for, and I certainly don't advocate intentionally hurting anyone. But the right to be offensive in expressing one's beliefs—whether that involves me attacking an icon like Mike Royko, or your cousin Mel ridiculing this column with the boys down at the butcher shop—is critical. When that right starts to erode, I'll be headed to another planet.

Everything is Funny

The second item on my First Amendment soapbox agenda is humor. We live in a world of incomprehensible horror and tragedy. Humor is the only thing we've been given that allows us to cope. (The only legal thing, anyway.) The more serious something is—the more horror and tragedy that's involved—the more we need humor. Need I say that the battle between vegetarianism and meat-eating should be at the top of the list?

There's a lot of funny stuff out there in the dialogue over meat-eating, and a lot of it makes fun of us vegetarians. It ranges from the classic recipe for vegetarian stew ("Gut, drain and skin one vegetarian…"), to the sarcastic Boulder Vegetable Rights Association, to the People Eating Tasty Animals (PETA) home page. Offensive? You bet! But doesn't it beat serious men and women screaming out their message in angry prose? Doesn't it make their point so much more effectively?

Mike Royko knew a lot about being offensive, and he knew a lot about being funny. The former made his writing important, while the latter made him loved. It was only late in his career, when consolidation in the Chicago newspaper industry and the death of his wife left him battling depression and alcohol problems, that his anger became more pronounced and his humor began to fade. It was only then that people openly questioned his right to speak. That in itself should tell us all something about how to conduct ourselves the next time we're ready to spout off about our vegetarian beliefs.

Mike Royko loved to eat meat, and now he's dead. But we vegetarians can still learn a lot from his example.

Funny Things from the Newspaper [The original “Mike Royko” column]

2008-07-28T12:44:00.002-06:00

Recently I spotted two things in the paper that were so outrageous, and so offensive to common sense and decency, that I just knew they'd make great column material. The first was an advertisement by the Colorado Beef Council promoting the cow as "Mother Nature's Recycling Machine." Make no mistake about it, this ad was so full of untruths and half-truths it should be framed and sent to New York, where it can serve as the inspiration for future generations on Madison Avenue. The beef industry types will want to quote verbatim from this one at the next Congressional hearings on grazing leases. They'd better have their lawyers with them.

The other thing that caught my eye was a piece by Mike Royko, the syndicated columnist for the Chicago Tribune. He decided to lash out at vegetarian activism and healthy foods generally, and at Jeremy Rifkin and McDonald's phenomenally unsuccessful McLean burger in particular. Mr. Royko is a humorous guy, but what comes screaming out of his writing is the image of an aging good-old-boy threatened by changes in our society he refuses to understand. It almost makes you lose sight of the funny stuff.

For those of you fortunate enough to have missed these two journalistic classics, I quote liberally below.

First, Enlightenment from the Colorado Beef Council

[I swear they're serious about this. I'm not making these quotes up!]

"Cows make the most of our food production resources,"

Yeah, sure. And everyone who eats beef has an IQ of 200. I'm a millionaire with the bronzed body of a Greek god, and the Pope reads this column "religiously." Isn't fantasy wonderful?

"...healthful, nutritious, low-fat beef."

It's all in your frame of reference, I guess. Everyone knows the beef folks have financed carefully controlled tests of their product's nutritional value. When pitted against such popular foods as suet, fried "pork" skins, Ben & Jerry's double chocolate fudge ice cream, and wood alcohol, beef came out looking like a nutritional winner!

"Like mowing a lawn or pruning a tree, cattle grazing promotes plant vigor and diversity."

Anyone who's ever looked at a fence line in the American West knows this is true. Those darn "diverse" and "vigorous" plants sure are clever, too. They have a charming way of disguising themselves as erosion and mud.

"Cows are also environmental protection machines."

And how could they not be when they're managed by today's socially-responsible, food conglomerate, factory farmers! Yes, on the old environmental friendliness scale herds of cows rank right up there with the B-l "Stealth" Bomber, Mount Pinatubo, and Arnold Schwarzenegger in The Terminator. Give them all Winnebagos for an even bigger "green" factor. Only Soviet atomic energy scientists could have come up with anything better.

Now, Words of Wisdom from Mr. Royko

"...veggie burgers, tofu burgers, seaweed burgers, cabbage burgers and other healthful delicacies. They could call them Twitburgers."

I suppose. Of course, if "they" were just a bit more mature and/or enlightened they might prefer to call them "Socially-Conscious Burgers," "Morally-Inspired Burgers," "creative," "visionary," "compassionate," or just plain "tasty." (This last adjective doesn't necessarily apply to the seaweed burger—I'll reserve judgment. And it assumes, of course, that "their" taste buds haven't already been deep fried in the last batch of hot grease out of Burger King or KFC.)

"America does not want a Twitburger. It prefers something it can really chomp on. Damn the cholesterol, full speed ahead."

For me, Mike's wartime imagery really captures the essence of the American eating experience. We can all join the Marlboro man—looking macho as hell in our hospital beds.

... "goofball"... "peepingTom"... "dimwits"... "public nags"... "common scold" ... "public nuisance"... "compulsive busybody" ... "intellectual gnat" ... "aging hippies"...

Choosing his words with the precision and accuracy of a skilled surgeon, Mr. Royko uses a number of adjectives to describe individuals and groups of people espousing vegetarianism and healthy eating. Of course Mr. R is merely demonstrating one of the golden rules of persuasive writing: When logic fails to advance your position, resort to name-calling. For obvious reasons, this technique is often used by those opposing the vegetarian cause.

"Now I must go have dinner. Steak tartare. That's raw beef, ground up. I prefer it on the hoof, but it's a chore chasing the critter."

Finally, at the end of his column, some levity! It's not too funny, though, if you're an individual of the vegetarian or bovine persuasion. I have to believe that despite the sarcasm Mr. Royko probably does eat the way he preaches, in which case he may not be around for too many more years of wit. It's a shame. If there's any justice, he'll be reincarnated as a cow.

Tradition

2008-07-15T15:56:00.002-06:00

[Original Column]

Lately I've been thinking a lot about Zero Mostel in Fiddler On The Roof. I can just picture him in my mind dancing across the stage singing that song about "Tradition." Now I, of course, have no idea how Mr. Mostel or the writers of Fiddler really felt about the subject, but I've met plenty of people who, just like the character in the play, think tradition is sacred. I even admit to feeling that way myself sometimes—like when I get misty-eyed and nostalgic about my favorite baseball team.

We are all creatures of habit, and will cling to things that are familiar, even if those things are nonsensical or conflict with other values we may have. It doesn't really matter how it all gets started. Just like an untrue rumor, if an action is repeated often enough it develops a certain credibility. With the glossy patina of age, it becomes tradition.

Sometimes it's fun to think of some of the ridiculous things in our society that are perpetuated by tradition. For example, for years we have had a whole class of people called "cheerleaders" who go to sporting events in miniature pleated skirts, with funny things called "pom-poms" on both hands. Women in our society regularly wear uncomfortable shoes with spike heels, and paint their fingernails red and their eyelids blue. And lest you think that I'm pretending to be above it all, I freely admit that as I write this I'm wearing a tie. The reason for all this nonsense is beyond me. But then again, it doesn't need a reason—it's tradition.

Along with the frivolous aspects of tradition are some pretty serious ones. Tradition, of course, plays a large and beneficial role in helping to maintain the values necessary to hold our society together. Unfortunately, it can also work the other way. It can be a convenient excuse used to justify otherwise unacceptable behavior. This is what I call the "my daddy did it, and by golly I'm going to do it too" syndrome. Among the evils it's responsible for are bigotry, racism, and those fuzzy dice people hang from their rear-view mirrors.

Those of us who are vegetarians and who love animals often find the "my daddy did it" syndrome particularly disconcerting. It is the rationalization for barbaric behavior all over the world, from caged dogs in the back of South Korean restaurants, to lobster tanks in hometown America.

Sometimes the types of behavior tradition supports are as incongruous as they are barbaric. For example, lately I've been bothered by an inconsistency in our society that goes something like this: If you belong to a church and you torture and kill cats as part of your religious ceremony, you could be in big trouble with the law. If you perform the same acts under the guise of "scientific research" not only will you be protected, but you might even get government funding to do it. Now, that doesn't seem quite right to me. And I find it especially curious in light of the fact that the First Amendment to the Constitution specifically protects freedom of religion, but doesn't say a thing about scientific research.

So what explains the difference? What carries more weight than our laws, or even our Constitution? You guessed it—tradition. In this context tradition dictates that religion involves organ music and uncomfortable clothes, while "scientific research" has something to do with white lab coats and rats living on Diet Coke. Cutting open cats is antithetical to our concept of religion, but wholly consistent with our norms for science. In the scientific venue the value or morality of such an act is not even likely to be questioned.

A meat-centered diet is in general is so economically wasteful, so unhealthy, and so downright unnatural that its continued viability must in large part be due to tradition. Repetition over thousands of years (and particularly the last fifty) has given it a credibility that we vegetarians have barely been able to put a dent in. That's too bad.

A tradition like meat eating seems so deeply rooted in our society that maybe the only way to fight it is with tradition itself. Maybe we vegetarians need to start some silly tradition of our own-like eating millet burgers on Groundhog's Day, for example. If we did that for, say, fifty years, everyone would start to think it was the natural thing to do and would follow along. Of course, people will need to hear about it. It's tough to start a good tradition without lots of publicity. If we could just get some well-known celebrities to join us that would help... Too bad Zero Mostel isn't available.

The Role of Tradition

[Re-write]

Tradition is what gets us all misty-eyed when we think about our parents and grandparents, or the history of our favorite baseball team. It's the embodiment of our values, and the glue that holds our society together through the generations. Heck, it's the stuff Zero Mostel sang about in Fiddler On The Roof! With all that going for it, tradition must be pretty wonderful, right?

Well, most of the time. Unfortunately, tradition is probably the biggest enemy to vegetarianism and many of the other sane things on this Earth! Here's why...

We are all creatures of habit and will cling to things that are familiar, even if those things are nonsensical or conflict with other values we may have. It doesn't really matter how it all gets started. Just like an untrue rumor, if an action is repeated often enough it develops a certain credibility. With the glossy patina of age, it becomes "tradition".

Think of all the ridiculous things in our society that are perpetuated by tradition. Here are some examples:

For years we have had a whole class of people called "cheerleaders" who go to sporting events in miniature pleated skirts, with funny things called "pompoms" on both hands.
Women in our society regularly wear uncomfortable shoes with spiked heels, and paint their fingernails red and their eyelids blue.
Men in our society wear odd paraphernalia called "ties," which appear to have no purpose other than constricting unimportant things like arteries and windpipes.
The reason for all this nonsense is unknown. But then again, it doesn't need a reason—it's tradition.
Along with the frivolous aspects of tradition are some pretty serious ones. It can be a convenient excuse used to justify otherwise unacceptable behavior. This is what I call the "my Daddy did it, and by golly I'm going to do it too" syndrome. Among the evils it's responsible for are bigotry, racism, sexism, and those fuzzy dice people hang from their rear-view mirrors.
Those of us who are vegetarians and who love animals often find the "my Daddy did it" syndrome particularly disconcerting. It is the rationalization for barbaric behavior all over the world, from shark's-fin soup in Asia, to genitally mutilating girls in Africa, to Thanksgiving turkey in North America. Tradition is the excuse given when all others fail to explain why sons of fishermen must continue to fish when populations of fishes are threatened or sons of loggers must continue to log when our forests are dwindling. Tradition justifies the ritualistic torture of animals as part of "religious" ceremonies in the Caribbean, and under the auspices of "bullfights" in Spain and Mexico.
Let's say it again, just for emphasis (yes, that would be the traditional thing to do): If behavior cannot otherwise be justified, we defend it by saying it is "tradition".
A diet centered on meat and dairy products is so economically and environmentally wasteful, so unhealthy, and so downright unnatural that its continued viability must in large part be due to tradition. Just like bigotry, racism and sexism, repetition over the years has given it a credibility that we vegetarians have barely been able to dent. That's too bad. Tradition should never be used as a source of comfort for those who cannot otherwise defend their actions to themselves or others.

Meat In Space

2008-07-05T08:34:00.002-06:00

I read a lot of news stories about meat and dairy products. These stories are usually pretty predictable. Either they report on some new study that says eat less meat and dairy products and more fruits and vegetables, or they are thinly-disguised reprints of industry propaganda. (You can always tell the latter. Usually they have titles like: "Scientists Say Drink Your Milk for Healthy Bones!")

Every once in a while, though, a news story comes along that is so incredible it deserves a column of its own. That's what I thought when I read a recent ABC News story about Morris Benjaminson, a researcher at Touro College Applied Bioscience Research Consortium, and his research into growing meat in the laboratory. You see, Mr. Benjaminson is concerned about our astronauts on a future two-year mission to Mars. He wants them to have fresh meat, and he's figured out how to raise that meat in space—without the animals!

This is exciting news, and to prove that I am not making this up, I've decided to give you some actual quotes from the story and my reaction to them.

"Benjaminson sliced 2-4-inch sections of flesh from large goldfish and placed them in a nutrient solution of fetal bovine serum, a liquid extracted from the blood of unborn calves. After a few weeks in the solution, …the fish meat grew by up to 16 percent."
—This sounds so tasty that I bet the public will be signing up in droves for the next Mars mission. They say with Mars getting there is half the fun, and this sounds like the food on a luxury cruise!
"To test the lab-grown meat's appeal, his team showed it to colleagues to analyze for color and fried the meat to assess its aroma. Benjaminson said most considered the fish meat appetizing, although no one actually tasted it."
—I bet they had to hold them back with chains.
"Benjaminson, himself, restrained from eating it since he was wary of possible infectious agents from the fetal bovine serum used to grow it. 'I'm just as careful about prions as the next man,' he said, referring to the infectious proteins behind mad cow disease."
—What a wimp! Well, I'm sure our brave astronauts won't have these reservations. After six months or so living on liverwurst out of toothpaste tubes, they'll probably be more than ready to gorge themselves at an interstellar fish-fry.
"Eventually, Benjaminson hopes to improve the growth rate of his homegrown fish sticks and expand the technique for growing chicken and beef. The team also hopes to create a meat-growing machine to automate the process…"
—Look for a late night "infomercial" on this machine, coming soon to a cable channel near you. Maybe George Foreman can even be bribed to put his name on it.
"But growing meat in space has some serious drawbacks to consider. William Knott, the chief of biological programs at NASA's Kennedy Space Center points out that, unlike tending a garden of vegetables, growing meat will consume critical resources that the astronauts need themselves, namely oxygen and carbon. 'The problem is the meat would compete with the astronauts' needs,' Knott said. For that reason Knott suspects the first Mars travelers will subsist primarily on a vegetarian diet.
—Hmmm. Do you just suppose that the same arguments could be made for not raising meat on "Spaceship Earth?"
"Benjaminson is hoping his meat-growing technique might also find applications on Earth. For example, he wonders if some vegetarians would be willing to eat meat products that were not directly slaughtered."
—Just what we poor, deprived vegetarians have been waiting for! (Some days I just can't control my cravings for the taste of goldfish in bovine serum.) Where do we sign up?!!!
"Benjaminson says he has already heard from executives at a poultry company… who expressed interest in using the technique to grow boneless chicken products."
—Why does this not surprise me?
As Mr. Benjaminson's research demonstrates, meat in space can be a scary proposition. How are astronauts supposed to stay healthy eating a bunch of goldfish like silly college boys? How can they be expected to maintain weightlessness after a heavy dinner of meat?
In response, I think it's time that the people of the Earth declared space to be an official "Meat–Free Zone." There's certainly precedent for this. Antarctica has been a nuclear-weapons–free zone for more than 40 years, and I have yet to hear anyone gripe about that decision. Anyway, if you don't count that one tragic evening when a neutron boy from the planet Xerox went on a joyride on his Farleigh-Dickenson antimatter motorcycle with a Fleshburger Supreme from Saturn's Golden Rings franchise, we Earthlings are the only folks in the whole Universe still dragging meat into space.
I'm going to circulate a petition opposing meat in space. Be sure to sign it. If we all act quickly on this thing, there's still a chance we can get space declared the "Official Meat–Free Zone of the 2008 Summer Olympics."
***************************
Petition to Designate Space as a Meat and Dairy–Free Zone
To The Honorable Ban Ki-moon
Secretary-General of the United Nations
We, the undersigned people of the planet Earth, respectfully petition the United Nations and its member nations to actively promote such international treaties as may be required to designate space, including all areas of the Universe outside of Earth and its atmosphere, as a Meat and Dairy–Free Zone.
In support of our petition, we call to the attention of the General Assembly the following facts:
- The production of meat and dairy products is the cruelest and most environmentally destructive of all human activity.
- The consumption of meat and dairy products is the leading preventable cause of human disease and death.
- The goal of space exploration should be to strive for higher values, not to export our vices. (What's next—gambling on Neptune? A smoking lounge on the International Space Station?)
- Cows, pigs, chickens and fish get nauseous in zero-gravity, and their space suits fit poorly.
For these reasons and others, we hope and trust that the people of the Earth, led by our United Nations, will work to accomplish this noble cause. Thank you.
Signed:

Mad as Hell

2008-06-24T11:30:00.002-06:00

In the words of anchorman Howard Beale, as so aptly portrayed by Peter Finch in the movie Network, I'm mad as hell, and I'm not going to take it any more.

What am I mad about?

I'm mad that the animal agriculture industry is perpetrating horrors the equivalent of the Holocaust on farm animals in this country every single day. Nobody seems to care, and nobody, except the tiny fraction of the population that we vegetarians and vegans represent, does anything about it. Why? Because to care would mean thinking about things that are unpleasant. To do something would require a change in lifestyle that might be inconvenient.

I'm mad at the fast-food industry for luring our children into their restaurants, and into a lifetime of horrible eating habits, with clowns, playgrounds and free toys. Even more, I'm mad at our government for allowing this to happen, particularly when armed with the knowledge that more and more of our children are becoming obese and diabetic at a younger and younger age.

My anger with the politicians doesn't stop there. Must they compound the problem by selling out our schools to the soft drink companies who install vending machines in the corridors and to the meat and dairy industries that dictate the school lunch program? Why is it that every single "food" item that receives a government subsidy is something that is bad for us (dairy, crops used as sweeteners, crops used for animal feed)? Shouldn't our government be spending its money to make our health better rather than worse?

I'm mad at meat-eating environmentalists who promote their causes while conveniently overlooking the 800-pound gorilla in the room—the animal agriculture industry. Not only is that industry our biggest (by far!) consumer and polluter of land and water, but it's all so unnecessary, and all so wasteful. I'm similarly mad at the medical professionals who promote a "healthy" diet, while always ensuring that it's based around ever-so-unhealthy meat and dairy products. I'm mad at "pacifists" who still condone the least pacifistic of all activities—the torture and killing of animals, and I'm mad at "feminists" who don't seem to have any problem continuing to consume dairy products and chickens' eggs despite the fact that they exploit the females of other species and require rape and the taking of babies from their mothers.

I'm mad at the way my fellow vegetarians and I are consistently discriminated against. We're uninvited to social events, left off of dinner invitations, made fun of, and all too often shunned by family, friends, co-workers and potential mates. What is our crime? We back up our moral convictions with our behavior. We "put our tofu where our mouth is" (to coin a phrase), and that makes other people feel uncomfortable. It's easier to avoid us than to think about the message we send by our example.

I'm mad too that none of this will change substantially in my generation's lifetime. It won't change in the lifetimes of our children or our grandchildren either, and maybe not until the earth, and the human life on it, is destroyed by our own greed and stupidity.

Most of all, though, I'm mad at the millions and millions of educated, compassionate people out there who continue to be part of the problem rather than the solution. In their brains they know the facts about animal rights, environmentalism and nutrition, but in their hearts they still don't "get it." The old saying goes that the hottest places in hell are reserved for those who, in times of crisis, stand by and do nothing. Well, this is certainly a time of crisis. Where are these people? Can't they change their behavior just one little bit? Couldn't they manage to go just a meal or two without digging the graves of animals, the earth and themselves with their dinner forks? We need them on our side, and we need them now.

The other night I had a long conversation with an Episcopalian reverend. We talked a lot about my reasons for being vegan. She brought up the Biblical reference about the lion lying down with the lamb, and I finally had to ask her what her religious view was on killing animals for food. She thought about the question for a moment, and finally explained that there were different levels of morality—some moral ambitions that we can achieve within the confines of our society, and others that will have to wait for a better day and a better place. I didn't believe that for a moment, and from the look on her face I could tell she didn't either.

I personally don't want to live in a world where our morality changes to accommodate what's popular, pleasurable, and convenient. I don't want to live either in a society where the vast majority of the population is in a state of cognitive dissonance and rationalization—where their daily actions are totally inconsistent with their beliefs on the most basic concepts of what's good for them, how to treat others, and distinguishing right from wrong.

I guess I don't have a choice though. Room reservations on the other planets are awfully hard to come by right now, and around here almost everyone eats meat. I'm the odd man out.

I'm mad as hell about it.

Getting on the “Low-Carb” Bandwagon

2008-06-12T11:15:00.002-06:00

Americans are getting fatter. Two-thirds of us are overweight, and we're moving toward obesity at an alarming rate. In 1991 the obese comprised less than 20% of the population in every state of the union, and less than 10% in 8 states. Eleven years later the obese comprised more than 20% of the population in 31 states and more than 15% of the population in every state. Since 1980 the percentage of overweight children has doubled.

The fact that more of us can now literally sit around the house means more than just a deterioration of the scenery at the local beauty parlor. Absent radical changes in dietary and exercise routines, one-third of Americans born in the year 2000 will develop diabetes and suffer premature death. Experts have even speculated that in some states, like Texas, we may see the first generation of children to be outlived by their parents.

Something has to be done about all of this, and I've decided to do my part. First, I consulted with the legions of executives, experts and ghostwriters here at On or Off the Mark international headquarters. They, of course, had no idea, so I moved on to the real powerbrokers—the sales-types.

After a series of power lunches with my marketing people and my public relations people and their people and their people's people, I think I now have the answer. I am now in a position to make the exciting announcement that On or Off the Mark has become a "low-carb" column! As a matter of fact, I think I can safely say that this column is as low in carbs as any column of its type, anywhere. I'm hoping that readers will eat it up.

Of course, as a low-carb column I will now be able to proudly display the official "Low-Carb Option!" insignia from the American Diet League (not an official US Government agency). For an extra $14.95 I think they're even sending me a wallet card that I can flash at people when I want them to know that I, too, am low-carb.

Since this column is now officially "low-carb" it can safely be read by those persons, including the entire population of the United States, who are on the Atkins, South Beach, North Beach, South Pole, etc. high protein diets. (Hey, aren't these the same people who are collectively getting fatter?) And I know that this is going to appeal to all of those couch potatoes who drink those new "low-carb" dietetic beers to take off a few pounds while passively watching the game.

This development comes at a good time for the regular readers of this column too. Lately I've noticed that two of my three readers (I happen to be one of these two) have put on a couple of extra pounds. If they (okay, we) can diet while reading, that has to be a good thing!

Now, you may think this is merely a temporary publicity gimmick foisted on an unsuspecting public by an opportunist with no real commitment to the ideals of vegetarianism. To make you feel at ease, I'll make this promise: I'll keep my column low-carb at least until the next "high-carb" fad comes along. (At that point On or Off the Mark will officially become a high-carb column, perfect for "carb-loading" readers. But I get ahead of myself…)

Acquiring low carb status means that my lowly column can now join such American icons as Kraft Foods, Applebee's, WalMart and General Motors on the low-carb bandwagon. Think I'm kidding about General Motors? Well, maybe I am. But the way things are going, it's only a matter of time before we have low-carb trucks and busses.

I like this low-carb thing. It's totally in keeping with the great American tradition of ignoring the real causes of our problems and focusing on the quick-fix. Reaching for something labeled "low-carb" is a heck of a lot less work than real exercise or real dieting. It's faster than serving fresh vegetables to our kids (god forbid!), and a lot less scary to the average Joe than anything beginning with a "v." Most importantly, it's easy to market with the proverbial 30-second sound byte.

Image is everything, you know, and it beats out substance every time. Sounds perfect for this column!

The Rules of Logic (As Taught by Meat-Eaters)

2008-06-01T11:10:00.002-06:00

When I was a kid my parents gave me a logic game for my birthday. It came with a little hourglass (so players could actually time how logical they were) and an instruction book that was a couple of hundred pages long and read like a computer programming manual. I think the purpose of the game was to hone the minds of the younger generation so we would be equipped to deal with the communist threat.

Anyway, after ten minutes with this game, I found out I wasn't very good at logic. I was better at sleeping. If the free world depended on the likes of me, we'd all be eating blintzes and borscht by lunchtime.

As I've grown older—living as a vegetarian in a meat-eating world—I've been constantly reminded of how bad I am at this logic stuff. Sometimes it seems that, when it comes to diet and the way we treat animals, almost everyone is living by a whole different set of rules. I can't figure them out. (If you're a vegetarian, I bet you've got the same problem!)

One thing I have noticed over the years, though, is that the incomprehensible logic as practiced by our meat-eating society manifests itself in certain recognizable patterns—certain omnivorous "rules of logic," if you will. Here are a few of my favorites.

We should pay folks to do things we don't like. Whether the debate is about controlling the onslaught of waste from hog "farms" in Colorado, or limiting fishing to protect salmon populations in the Northwest, the arguments against taking action are always the same: "If we do this, we'll lose jobs." Okay, I hate to see people unemployed as much as the next guy (I have intimate experience with this myself!), but why should we continue to pay these folks to do something destructive. Is this logical?
The reason we do it this way is because we've always done it this way. Let's see… people eat cottage cheese when they're on a diet, "chicken" soup when they're sick, hot-dogs (with none of the fixings) at the ballpark, a ham for Easter dinner, and cow's milk when they need something "healthy." Has anyone really given any thought to this? Do people really enjoy this stuff, or are they just going through the motions???
It's what you think, not what you do—good intentions are all that matters. We vegetarians are tired of hearing about the good intentions of the meat-eaters around us. By their logic, they all have the healthiest and most compassionate diets in the world. Sure.
[…Hey, wait a second. I had some good intentions myself. Wasn't I going to get up at five every morning to ride my exercise bicycle, read Milton, and iron my socks? And didn't I sleep in today and eat chocolate for breakfast? Okay, so maybe this is one perverted rule of logic that isn't unique to meat-eaters.]
It doesn't count unless people are involved. I found a great example of this on the radio news the other day. There was an environmental story about the dwindling population of salmon in an Idaho river. The activist they interviewed was very upset. Her concern: she wanted fish in the river so her son could get out the old rod and reel—and kill them.
Meat-eating is good—this is beyond question. Even a knot-head like me can figure this one out. It goes like this: "Meat-eating is humankind's most barbaric behavior. Meat-eating is okay by definition. Ergo, everything else must be okay too!" (The logic guys love to use Latin words like ergo.)
For a classic example of this look no further than the current debate over "xenotransplantation" (Logicians like Greek too!), the raising of animals to supply replacement body parts for transplantation into humans. I was amazed the other day when I read the results of a CNN poll, finding that only 17% of the people responding found any ethical problem with this practice. And what about those ethical problems? They were analyzed for us in a recent article by Jeffrey P. Kahn, the Director of the University of Minnesota's Center for Bioethics.
According to Dr. Kahn, there may be some humanitarian concerns if the "xenotransplanted" organs come from fun animals like dogs and chimpanzees, but those problems magically go away if they come from the kinds of animals we eat. If we can, say, genetically alter pigs that are raised for food to also produce the kinds of organs we humans need, that makes it all okay. At that point the only "ethical" issues remaining are how safe the procedures will be (Safe for the humans, that is—i.e., can we get mad cow disease?) and how people will feel about eating genetically-altered "bacon."
Let me see if I've got this straight. We might care a little bit about the animals if we're only killing them to save a human life, but we don't have to care at all about killing them for the pure pleasure of putting something supremely unhealthy on our BLTs?
I'm sure the good folks at the University of Minnesota pay Dr. Kahn a lot of money for these insights. As for me though… well, I just don't understand the logic.

The Latest Innovations

2008-05-21T09:17:00.002-06:00

The world is full of inventors and inventresses, and every now and then I like to use this space to highlight some of the exciting new developments they've come up with—especially as they impact the worlds of vegetarianism and anti-vegetarianism. Both the good guys and the bad guys have been doing a lot of innovating lately, so let me just pop the top on a frosty Soy Beer (the latest drink of choice for the discerning vegetarian) and let's see what's new.

Neither Fish Nor Ford— You'll be excited to know that a new product named FastBass, a plastic fish painted to look like a race car, is available on-line for $59.95 at www.fastbass.com. It aims to capitalize on the growing market appeal of both NASCAR racing and professional bass fishing—the so-called "redneck twins of Southern sports." Marketers see this as a natural fit, noting that, "The 100,000 bubbas in the [NASCAR] stands are the same people who have an avocation for bass fishing."
Even the President Gets No Respect— And speaking of bubbas… Eaves Food Incorporated of Georgia has developed a one-third pound hamburger affectionately called the "BUBBA burger". Recently the company was forced to recall 28,860 pounds of BUBBA burgers because of possible E. coli contamination.
My Bells!— The Bella Mia restaurant in San Jose, California came up with a great way to save on the cost of veal—they just used pork instead. Now the restaurant has agreed to pay a $60,000 court settlement. The district attorney assigned to the case noted, "There are several groups who don't eat pork products, and many of those people may have been ordering veal to avoid pork." Gee, I wish I had $60,000 for every time I've gotten meat in a restaurant entrée labeled "vegetarian"!
Kids' Stuff— The dairy industry always has something dubious in the works, and lately they've been developing new containers targeted toward children. Among those being tested are the "Milk Chug" (jazzy single-serving bottles of flavored milk aimed at teenage boys) and new three-liter bottles that young children can pour without lifting.
Better Kids' Stuff— To promote the 75th birthday of the Green Giant, the company asked kids to compete at the National Veggie Eating Invention Contest at the U.S. Patent and Trademark Museum in Washington. Winners included a "Veggie Pult" that launches carrots into the mouth and an "Easy Biter Motorized Corn Cob," with motorcycle-inspired handles.
Whatever Happened to Olestra, anyway?— Just down Madison Avenue from Green Giant, America's food processors seem to be climbing back on the high-fat bandwagon. Among the new offerings are Philadelphia Snack Bars from Kraft (cheesecake "in a convenient on-the-go package"), and Calzone Creations from Sara Lee Corp. (microwavable sandwiches with as much as 12 grams of saturated fat each). According to a poll sponsored by the Food Marketing Institute, just 46 percent of the supermarket shoppers who say they are "very concerned" about nutrition are worried about the fat content of foods. That's down from 60 percent in 1996.
Soy is Hot!— Have you been noticing the twelve new types of soymilk showing up every day at the supermarket? It's no wonder that the National Milk Producers Federation has registered a trade complaint asking the Food and Drug Administration to stop use of the word "milk" by soybean beverage makers. Indeed, soymilk sales in mainstream supermarkets reached $126 million last year, a 60 percent increase over the year before. (That may sound like a lot, but it's still less than 1% of the $22 billion Americans spend each year on soda and cows' milk.) Of course, the soybean's popularity isn't limited to soymilk. Everyone wants to get in on the action. The Indiana Soybean Board sponsors an annual "soybean utilization" contest that in the past has yielded such novelties as soy-based gelatin, ski wax, lip balm, fire starter and breakfast cereal. One of this year's winners was SoySnaps, a cracker said to be "similar to a Ritz," but with the "light texture of overdone pizza crust." Mmmm!
Try a Little Tenderness— Finally, there's some exciting news from the meat industry in their long battle to make better use of the 10 "subprimal" cuts of meat they say they get from every steer. (Of course, for some of us all cuts of meat are "subprimal," as are the brains of those who produce and sell them.) One slaughterhouse in Corpus Christi, Texas has started zapping animal carcasses with 400 volts of electricity. They say this tenderizes them by tearing apart muscle tissue and "accelerating the aging process." Even more innovative is the new "hydrodyne" meat tenderizing process, developed in part by scientists at the USDA. They put meat—400 pounds of it at a time—into a vat of water anchored in concrete. Then they set off a small explosive charge, and voila—shoe leather is magically transformed into filet mignon! This invention is dynamite! (That's a joke.) Think of the possibilities. Think what this could do for your boss. He could certainly stand to be a little more tender!

Well, that's what's new. I didn't have time to tell you about the New York hotel that decorates with cheese, or the "Elvis Sandwich," but maybe I can save them for another time. I have to admit, though, I did make up the part about the Soy Beer. (It sounds like a good idea though, doesn't it?) Yes, Soy Beer is just an idea whose time has yet to come. I'm working on it. Meanwhile, I'm promoting another great idea I have: Organic Water.

Think it will sell?

Label Lies

2008-05-07T11:39:00.002-06:00

Not too long ago in this space I talked about "Santa Cruz Fat Free Guacamole," which I found in the grocery store, and which I'm sure is very groovy stuff except for the fact that it is neither "fat free" nor "guacamole." A short while after I wrote that column I was enjoying my favorite eggplant goo, Imam Bayeldi, on some crackers. "This is great stuff," I thought. "Too bad it's so greasy." I looked at the label to see just how greasy it was and found that, despite the fact that olive oil was one of the first listed ingredients, the goo had "0" calories from fat. Either the label was wrong or my local Middle Eastern market had found a way around the laws of thermodynamics.

These experiences got me to wondering what other food labels may contain grossly misleading information. I decided to investigate, and here are some of the things I found…

Food labels love to make health claims, whether they are true or not. For example, Post Golden Crisp Cereal advertises itself as "wholesome," despite the fact that sugar is its first listed ingredient. Actually, of its 7 listed ingredients, 3 are sugars, one is hydrogenated oil, one is artificial color and one is salt. I guess that leaves "wheat" as its "wholesome" ingredient. Wholesome indeed.
Hundreds of products lie about their fat content. Annie's Natural "Low Fat Gingerly Vinaigrette" salad dressing, for instance, gets 50% of its calories from fat. This doesn't sound like "low fat" to me, but it's a lot better than the bottle of Hidden Valley Original Ranch "Fat Free" dressing with bacon I found that gets 130 of its 140 calories from fat. Maybe they got the labels mixed up (??!!), or maybe in Hidden Valley what they hide is the truth.
Speaking of hiding the truth, check out Dinty Moore "97% fat free" Chicken and Dumplings, Valley Fresh "96% fat free" chunk chicken, and Swanson "99% fat free" chicken and beef broth. Despite these claims, each of these products gets 25% of its calories from fat. And "90% lean, 10% fat" ground beef actually gets 50% of its calories from fat. Well, at least that's better than the "80% lean" stuff, which is in reality over 2/3 fat.
Of course, many meat products don't have nutrition labels at all. Why? They would look terrible, so the meat lobby got them exempted. (Labeling of meat products is controlled by the Department of Agriculture ("DOA"), and isn't subject to the FDA labeling requirements.) "It's not a bribe, Mr. Congressperson—just think of it as a tip."
Dairy content is another area that seems to spawn food label lies. On the Coffee Mate coffee creamer label it says, "This is a non-dairy product." Under "ingredients" on the very same label it lists "sodium caseinate (a milk derivative)." How do you suppose they define "dairy?" Of course the other "non-dairy creamers" lie on their labels too.
If you want food labels that are both misleading and dumb, check out Hormel Pig's Feet and Cedar Springs leg of lamb, both of which advertise themselves as "semi-boneless." What does that mean, anyway? Wouldn't it be more honest just to admit that they contain hunks of fibula and/or a few toe bones carefully hidden inside?
My prize for dumbest misleading label, though, goes to Herb Ox Vegetable Bouillon Cubes. Among its ingredients is "fat flavor" (mmmm!), which, in turn, contains "partially hydrogenated corn oil" and "flavor." Gee, that's informative.
Of course, misleading food claims are not confined to product labels. Indeed, restaurant menus can be some of the worst offenders. How many gazillion times do non-vegetarian dishes show up in the "vegetarian" section of the menu? How many gazillion times do they forget to mention the cheese or chicken broth or worse in menu descriptions?
Sometimes restaurant lies even carry over to their national advertising. For example, the restaurant chain Chili's incessantly advertises "baby back ribs." Despite this depraved-yet-enticing claim, clearly intended to raise images of cannibalism, I have it on good authority that there are no actual babies in these ribs at all. Instead, they are made with dead animal parts, just like all their other menu items. (Jonathan Swift and Jeffrey Dahmer, eat your hearts out.)
Of course the mother of all food label lies is found on your friendly neighborhood carton of cow's milk. Milk labeled as "2%" really gets 34% of its calories from fat. The reason the dairy people lie and call it "2% fat" is that they sell more milk if people mistakenly believe it is a low-fat product rather than a high-fat product. Simple? Yes. Blatant frauds on the consumer? Absolutely!

What I want to know is, where is our government in all of this? The folks in Washington have been strangely silent. Have the FDA, DOA and Congress all sold out to the meat and dairy and Coffee Mate lobbies, or is it that they just don't care very much? And if they don't care, why not? Why pass labeling laws in the first place if you are going to ignore noncompliance?
Maybe it's time we took matters into our own hands. Hindus are already suing McDonald's over their fraudulent claims about "beef" in their fries. Maybe it's time we stand up to the other lies too. If only Jonathan and Jeffrey were here to sue the Chili's folks over the "baby back ribs" scandal, I'd support them in a minute. It just seems like the right thing to do.

Keeping in Touch with Old Friends

2008-04-23T22:47:00.001-06:00

I was at the shopping mall last Saturday when I ran into my old friend Nancy coming out of the Home Décor Barn. It was great to see her again.

"How are you?" she asked me right away. "I haven't seen you in ages. Not since Ted's party last year!"

"I think you're right," I answered. "It's certainly been awhile, that's for sure. How's old Ted doing anyway? Is he still working hard in the vegetarian movement?"

A troubled look came over her face. "Not anymore."

"But he seemed so committed," I said. "What happened?"

"I think that vegetarian group he was working with finally broke up. You know, for years they had to deal with the friction between the snobby ethical vegans and the health-conscious crowd promoting Omega-3 supplements. That took its toll on everyone, but I think the final straw was when they couldn't agree on the background colors for their web site."

"Gee, that's too bad," I said. "But I suppose those things are important. Is Ted's wife still in the environmental movement?"

"No, her environmental group had a big falling out with his former vegetarian group over the animal testing issue. It was really ugly. I think both she and Ted are devoting all their time to their Amway franchise now. That's something they can both agree on."

"I see. Well, what about all those animal rights people you and Ted used to work with?"

"You mean the P.E.T.A.X group?

"Yes, that's it."

"Oh, they had troubles of their own. Nobody ever got along in that group. First the people advocating full legal rights for animals broke off to form B.A.R.K., then the animal welfare people left to form M.E.O.W. Finally the cat-and-dog crowd started their own group called P.E.T.S. …And I just heard that there was another rift in B.A.R.K. between the folks who believe in civil disobedience and those who don't, so that group split into Y.I.P. and Y.O.W.L." Nancy shook her head, as if it was all too much to keep track of.

"Well," I said, trying to look on the bright side, "at least there will be lots of local groups that can be represented at the big annual rally next month."

"Don't count on it," Nancy cautioned. "First there was a big fight over which group was going to sponsor the rally and get to put up its signs, then Y.O.W.L. accused Y.I.P. of being infiltrators from the Department of Homeland Security, and finally P.E.T.S. insisted on bringing food for their dogs from the company M.E.O.W. was boycotting. In the end they all decided it was too much trouble and canceled the rally."

"Gosh, that's too bad," I said. "It sounds like a lot of people are leaving the movement."

Nancy sighed. "It's hard working for causes that are ignored by most of society. It gets you down after awhile. Sometimes I feel we're just like those poor birds in the battery cages—we have no power against our real enemies, so we start pecking at each other."

I nodded sadly. "Well, at least you're still pushing ahead, Nancy."

She gave me a sheepish grin. "You know, I've kind of moved away from vegetarianism myself," she said. "The high-protein movement is where the action is now. The Atkins people are spending $10 million, and bringing 70,000 people to town for a convention next week. It should be very exciting. Heck, the vegetarians could never do anything like that. …And how about you? Are you still writing that silly column?"

"Yes," I answered, a little embarrassed. "I haven't had time for much else though. You know how busy life is, what with following the bombings in the Middle East and the last episode of Friends and all."

"Sure," she said. "Well, we should get together sometime. …Plan a march or something."

I told her that would be great, and we said our goodbyes. As I walked away I thought for a moment how much fun it might be to get the old gang together and do something to change the world. Then I remembered that I had a lot on my calendar the next few days—a dentist appointment, dinner plans, some yard work that I'd been putting off. Maybe in the fall, I thought. Yes, that was it. In the fall when everyone had more time we could pull it all back together. We'd save the world then.

The Interview

2008-04-03T08:32:00.001-06:00

After all the years that On or Off the Mark has been in print, two questions keep coming back to me: "What do meat-eaters think of all this?" and "Why the heck can't someone else write this column?" Inquiring readers want to know.

We'll address both of these questions with today's interview. Here with me in the studio is Stephen Hess, an accomplished writer who is also a trial attorney and stage performer (not that these are necessarily different things). Stephen has the unique perspective of being both a meat-eater and (unlike most of the "people" who appear here) a real human being. Honest! Stephen is one of the funniest people I know, and he's even agreed to write the questions for his interview. Boy, this is easy. All I have to do is sit back and watch!

FLV (Flaming liberal vegetarian): Stephen, every once in a while our readers like to hear how you carnivores think.

PCM (Perfectly contented meat eater): Great!

FLV: It's a refreshing reminder of the moral superiority of our diets.

PCM: Hmmm…

FLV: You worked your way through college as a meat cutter. Did you ever have to do anything that was disgusting even to you?

PCM: We had "bone barrels" for collecting bones, bone dust from the saws, fat, and anything else we couldn't package in a commercial form. A stubby little guy from the Philadelphia Leather Company came by and bought our cutting waste, and whoever had torqued the meat manager off the worst that week got stuck cleaning the bone barrels. It was understood that you shouldn't go on a date the night you had to clean the bone barrels.

FLV: Anything else you remember from that experience?

PCM: Well, every once in a while we would cut into a pork loin and find some unpleasant growth there.

FLV: That's truly disgusting, Stephen. Yet with perfect equanimity you just went on eating meat?

PCM: Why thank you Mark, I have always taken pride in my equanimity. But I don't buy this "too disgusting to eat" argument. After all, disgust isn't a meaningful criterion even in your diet, is it? I assume you eat mushrooms knowing full well how they are grown. You just don't think about it when you are eating. And tell me half of your dishes don't look like someone already ate them once.

FLV: That mushroom never screamed before I harvested it, though.

PCM: Neither did the cow. In fact, he (she?) literally didn't know what hit him (her?). It was certainly quicker and less painful than cramming braces on some poor little girl's teeth for four years just so her smile will be prettier. Besides, I don't think those cows that produce the milk you drink live "happier" lives—whatever that means to a cow—before they visit Mr. Stubby from Philadelphia.

FLV: Don't look at me! I agree, and for that reason (and a bunch of others) I am a "Vegan"—I don't drink milk or use any animal products.

PCM: No animal products? No wonder you and Spock and all the rest of you Vegans have green blood. You need iron from animals to keep your blood red.

FLV: There are plenty of sources of iron besides red meat. Also, Spock was a Vulcan, not a Vegan, and Star Trek was science fiction. If you are going to insult us, at least have the courtesy to get your terms straight.

PCM: Sorry, Mark. But seriously, it's your own fault—you guys have made vegetarianism impossible to talk about anyway. You see, if you haven't studied vegetarianism carefully (as I have), visiting a health food store is like walking onto the set of a martial arts movie. "You know, I have a black belt in Tofu. I studied under Master Tempeh in Seitan." It would be a lot easier to understand if you gave all those foods meaningful names so we didn't have to guess what we'd be eating.

FLV: Let me guess, you were just about to tell me…

PCM: As a matter of fact, I was. Why don't you just call tofu "that mushy soy stuff," and call tempeh "that other mushy stuff with chunks," and call seitan "that mushy wheat stuff," and call seppuku "that really yucky soy stuff."

FLV: First, I personally believe that truth in advertising in the food business pretty much died with "head cheese," and "blood pudding," and "kidney pie." Second, seppuku isn't a vegetarian food. It's a form of ritualistic suicide practiced by the samurai. Come to think of it, eating meat regularly is a form of ritualistic suicide in its own way, except that it takes longer.

PCM: Well, as they say, good health is merely the slowest form of death. What's your motto, anyway? "You are what you eat; I think I'll eat a vegetable."

FLV: Very funny, "meathead." But let's leave the personal insults aside for just a minute. And let's forget disgust and animal abuse for a minute since you don't seem to care about them. But I assume that even you recognize moral obligations to your fellow man…

PCM: C'mon, Mark, do you expect me to believe that if I give up a pound of meat this week we could tweak our food production to support thirty or forty billion people on this planet and even save enough land for an Afro-Disney? Anyway, we'd run out of potable water, waste disposal, shelter, and satellite dishes well before then. Give me a hamburger!

[At this point the interview ended abruptly. From the videotapes it wasn't clear whether the vegetarian or meat-eater threw the first punch.]

If Those Meat and Dairy Ads Were Written by Vegetarians

2008-03-17T10:08:00.002-06:00

For years we vegetarians have had to put up with the public relations campaigns of the meat and dairy industries. We've been bombarded by advertisements that are often obnoxious, nonsensical, or just plain misleading. Sometimes all of the above!

Well, I think we vegetarians could do better. Heck, we could design ads for the meat and dairy industries that would still be clever and catchy, but would be lots more truthful than what they've been getting from Madison Avenue. I wonder why they haven't asked us already?!!

As just a teeny-tiny example of the improvements that could be made, Mr./Ms. Meat and Dairy Industry Executive, here are some of the ad campaigns I'd like to see:

"Beef: What Can We Say?"

What can we say about a cow who died? That she was beautiful and brilliant? That she loved Mozart and Bach, the Beatles, and me?

Unfortunately, as they continue to lose customers and market share, there's very little that America's "beef" producers can say about their product. No, it's not healthy, it's not trendy, and it's not attractive. So instead of attempting anything substantive, the industry has come up with such nonsensical fare as "Real food for real people" or "It's what's for dinner," sung to the tune of western-sounding music. Poor Aaron Copland is turning over in his grave.

The "Beef: What Can We Say?" ad campaign will continue this confusing tradition, but with the addition of an all-important play for sympathy from the meat-buying public. No, no one will understand these new beef ads, but at least they'll tell folks that this stuff is still hanging around out there. It can be bought for a price, and eaten for a higher price.

"Pork: It's What Those Hog Farms Are All About."

Pity the poor, pathetic "pork" industry. For years they've been trying to make the flesh of pigs seem more like the flesh of chickens by saying it's "white" meat. But how can they expect America's burgeoning minorities to relate to that? Instead, all the "pork" folks are getting is tons of bad publicity as hog waste saturates the Midwest and floats around hurricane-stricken North Carolina.

The "Pork: It's What Those Hog Farms Are All About" campaign will remind the public that those hideous hog farms do indeed have a purpose. Maybe not a good purpose, but hey—when you're on a sinking ship you take whatever you can get.

"Chicken: When You Don't Have Time to Think About Dinner."

In contrast to the hog folks, things are groovy in the world of chickens. Jeez, these guys hardly ever have to advertise. People just think, "Hmm, chicken. …Doesn't taste like much, somebody once said it's healthy, and what the heck, it's cheap." Actually, people may not think at all. They just toss the package into the grocery cart or eat what's put in front of them at a billion "rubber chicken" dinners.

Let's face it, most people don't want to think about what they eat, and the "Chicken: When You Don't Have Time to Think About Dinner" ad campaign will remind them that that's okay. Chickens can be the official food of choice of the non-thinking crowd. Kind of "anti-brain" food.

"Eggs: Everything's In the Packaging."

Just like "beef", there's precious little anyone can say that's good about chickens' eggs. (Yeah, they produce chickens, but that's another subject entirely.) Remember, we're talking about a product loaded with fat, cholesterol, and dangerous bacteria. And eggs look gross to boot. How can people be expected to want to put these things in their mouths???

The "Eggs: Everything's In the Packaging" campaign will emphasize the only good thing about eggs—that they come in easy-opening individual containers. Why risk it by saying anything else?

"Milk: The Best Thing You Can Get From the Back End of a Cow."

With its massive marketing budget, everyone follows the dairy industry's advertising. The old "Health Kick" ads didn't go over so well (health promotions—even phony ones—rarely do), and the milk mustache thing has been beaten to death. But the "Got Milk?" promotion has been a real winner. Sure, detractors have countered with "Got Cholesterol?" and "Got Heart Disease?" but we can't argue that these cutesy ads haven't sold lots of gloppy white stuff. When "Got Milk?" finally gets old, I propose following it right up with "Milk: The Best Thing You Can Get From the Back End of a Cow." This is a slogan that not only tells it like it is, but is sure to appeal to the most banal and prurient interests of the American public. Really now, what more can advertising be expected to do?

More Slogans We'd Like to See (You've heard these before—I just added the stuff in italics):

"Come alive! You're in the Veggie generation."
"A-1 makes hamburgers taste like dead cows with sugar on top."
"Plop, plop, fizz, fiz, oh what a relief it is …to be a vegetarian!"
"Promise her anything, but give her tofu."
"Vegetarians… the ultimate eating machines."
"Heart disease… Have it your way."
"I'd walk a mile for a Boca Burger."
"Does she or doesn't she …eat meat?"
"Things go better with organic apple juice."
"Be all that you can be (and you know it starts with a 'V'!)."
"Almonds are forever."
"Aren't you glad you're a vegetarian? Don't you wish everybody was?"
"Be a Pepper (preferably, an organic green one)!"
"Vegetarians keep going, and going, and going...."
"Compassion is Job 1 (and it's our most important product too)."
"Come to where the flavor (and fiber!) is. Come to Vegan Country."
- "Two all-seitan patties, special sauce, lettuce, soy cheese, pickles, onions on a sesame seed bun."
"Nothin' says lovin' like vegan from the oven."
"Head for the Border (the rice and beans are great down there!)."
"You can trust your lunch to the man who won't meat munch."
"Broccoli is a terrible thing to waste."
"Vegetarian food—It's everywhere you want to be."
"Where's the beef? Thank goodness it's not here!"
"If all the world were vegan, and Tofutti filled the sea, then the only spoon from here to the moon would have to belong to me."

What’s Wrong with Health Studies?

2008-02-24T11:53:00.003-07:00

Like many vegetarians, I enjoy reading news reports about new health studies that come out. Most of these studies, of course, directly or indirectly support the vegetarian cause by showing that some aspect of eating plants is good for us, and/or some aspect of eating animal products isn't so good for us. I've come to count on these scientific findings as continuing confirmation of my good judgment to be a vegetarian.

But what about those other studies—the ones that you occasionally see that find eating meat or dairy products may be healthy? What do we do about those?

I used to think that any studies that found meat-eating to be healthy were aberrations that should be relegated to mere footnote status in the great tide of favorable literature. They must be written by people with loose scientific morals and a vested interest somewhere, I thought. Lately though, I've read some pretty troubling findings from some pretty credible sources. I've had to delve a little deeper and rethink my position.

What I've learned is that the whole system of scientific inquiry into the relationship between diet and health is hugely unfavorable to vegetarianism. More importantly, though, I've learned not to take any study results as gospel. Here's why:

People really do have loose scientific morals and vested interests. The meat, dairy, and egg industries have the money and organization to fund a lot of research. Cantaloupe and lettuce growers don't. No matter how honest scientists try to be, their results are going to favor the people paying the bill. If you need an example, just look at our court system. "Experts" can be hired to support any position.
Cause and effect relationships are difficult to establish. Whether you're doing research in the lab or conducting an epidemiological study, it's incredibly difficult to isolate the effect of just one dietary factor and study its health consequences. There are simply too many environmental and genetic variables, and too many interactions between variables to get in the way. Results from even the best-designed studies can vary widely.
Animals may be lousy models for people. When you take animals in the lab and pretend they are people, you've introduced a potential for serious error right off the bat. Just last week I happened to be reading the literature on a new drug. Testing found it caused cancer in mice, but not in hamsters. Okay… so what can we do with that useful information? It should be obvious that any results based on animal testing are suspect, and should be subject to additional scrutiny.
Test subjects lie. Maybe they don't intent don't intend to, but it's human nature. In any study that requires people to report on their own diets there's going to be an impetus to report things just a little healthier than they really were. (I mean, who's really going to own up to eating a whole box of Ding Dongs for dinner?) The errors are magnified when, as in many studies, people have to report on their dietary patterns in the past. Of course, this exaggeration is always going to make the results of "healthy" food choices seem a little less healthy.
There aren't enough "vegetarians." It's especially difficult to do studies of vegetarians, because there often aren't enough of us to be a good sample. More importantly, we all know that people lie about their vegetarianism. (A recent Time Magazine poll found that 37% of the people calling themselves "vegetarian" had eaten red meat in the last 24 hours!) Finally, there are huge variations in vegetarian diets, and studies may not compensate for that. They may lump the raw foods folks in with the people who live on Ding Dongs. Again, the result of this is going to make "vegetarians" seem a lot more like everyone else, and a "vegetarian" diet seem a lot less healthy.
There aren't any vegans. Vegans are so few in number and so misunderstood, that it is going to be a rare study indeed that will properly analyze and/or give meaningful results that apply to this group. Because of the problems cited above, results for "vegetarians" may be totally inapplicable.
Since practically everyone eats meat, dietary studies often suffer from the "lesser of the evils" syndrome. For example, we've all seen lots of studies that cite the benefits of eating fishes. But if the "control" group is made up of folks who eat other kinds of flesh foods, it's hard to draw absolute conclusions. Sure, fish-eaters may be healthier than hamburger-eaters, but if fish-eaters were compared to vegetarians, the results might look entirely different.
Another recent example was a study that found that, among overweight and obese adults, those who ate massive amounts of dairy products were less likely to develop insulin resistance syndrome. The conclusion, widely reported in the media, was that 5 servings a day of dairy products protects us. But how did the people who ate less dairy make up those calories? Almost certainly by eating more meat. (I doubt that any vegetarians were in their sample group.) Could the conclusion of the study just as easily have been "avoid meat at all costs—even if you have to eat lots of dairy?"
Since practically everyone eats meat, results of dietary studies may not apply to vegetarians. Results from dietary studies may only apply to people with diets similar to the test group, and that rarely includes vegetarians. For example, I recently read a report raving about the benefits of fish oil (omega-3 fatty acids). The primary benefit noted was fish oil's ability to thin blood and thus prevent heart attacks and strokes. But thinner blood is only of benefit to people already sick with cardiovascular disease (i.e., most people on the Standard American Diet). For many vegetarians and vegans, and others with healthy cardiovascular systems, this blood thinning could be a health detriment rather than a benefit.
There is scientific evidence out there to support everything. A librarian friend of mine once told me "doctors like to write." It's true. You can find a study out there to support almost anything you can imagine. If it isn't there yet, it's on the way. No individual study, nor the credence that someone gives to it, should be taken as definitive.
People give more authority to later studies than earlier ones. While the conclusions expressed in the scientific literature may vary wildly, people tend to believe the latest news they hear. They mistakenly believe that new scientific studies override the results of those that came before. This is unfortunate indeed when poorly designed or aberrant studies conflict with what has been established in numerous previous studies.
People like good news. How much press has "red wine is good for you" received? How many millions of books has Dr. Atkins sold by telling people it's healthy to eat lobsters and butter? People want to believe, and they tend to cite, studies that favor their own positions. We vegetarians are guilty of this all the time. On the other hand, since the vast majority of people in our society are addicted to animal products, any study at all hinting that meat and dairy products might somehow be good for us will receive considerably more notoriety than a study finding the opposite.
The press exaggerates. (And that's an understatement!) Combine this with the fact that people like good news, and the potential for the public to be misled in favor of meat and dairy products is enormous. For example, a report on the fish oil study mentioned above, written by a registered dietician, starts off proclaiming the "good news," and ends with the pronouncement that "Including rich fish as a regular eating habit is one of the most positive steps anyone can take to protect against the development of heart disease. Best of all, it is good nutrition at its tastiest." Objective medical reporting? Hardly.
Doctors still believe in what they grew up hearing and doing. Old ways die hard for most of us, and that's true for doctors and medical researchers as well. Anything that goes against what their mothers told them as children is going to be looked upon with additional skepticism. That doesn't bode well for vegetarianism. Just consider how Dr. Spock was almost drummed out of the medical community when he had the audacity to suggest that cow's milk isn't good for growing children. Consider how many doctors are happy to heed medical evidence and recommend eating more vegetables and less meat (Mom would have liked this). Consider how few are willing to heed that same medical evidence and recommend vegetarianism (Mom definitely wouldn't approve).

Given all of the problems inherent in medical studies of diet and disease, it's amazing that we can learn anything at all. Yet, the fact that some results (saturated fat is bad; fiber is good, etc.) keep coming up over and over again, means that we can probably trust them and rely upon them. The best advice may be to use our common sense (if it sounds too simple or too good, ignore it) and take a big picture/long term approach. (I'm starting to sound like my stockbroker!)
Considering how the odds are stacked against vegetarianism, it's equally amazing that we get any good news at all from the medical community. And yet, there they are, week after week—new scientific studies lending support to the vegetarian way of eating. No, they may not be the only things we read, but that's good enough for me. They are more than enough to make me feel confident that my decision to be a vegetarian was a good one.

Zoos (from the ancient Greek word: “Zeus”)

2008-02-14T13:24:00.002-07:00

Vegetarians have mixed feelings about zoos. Sure, we like the chance to spend some time with animals we'd never get to see otherwise, and zoos do an admirable job of repopulating threatened species and advocating wildlife causes. Just maybe (we hope) those kids who get to spend the day eating popcorn and ogling the elephants and giraffes come away with a little more appreciation for the diversity of life, and a little more respect for creatures of species other than their own. These are all good things.

The problem with zoos, of course, is that the animals are in prison. Putting them behind bars is not a nice thing to do to our fellow creatures, and you don't have to spend long at a zoo to sense the pain and unhappiness of many of the animals who are there.

Sadly, zoos may one day soon be the only thing that keeps us from being a planet populated only by humans, cattle, chickens, dogs and cats, mosquitoes, catfish, and the occasional pigeon. It's a pity. If we must build them, let's at least make them nice.

30-Second Quiz About Zoos

It's the year 2163, and the world is infested with Finsters, which are huge, highly intelligent mutant cockroaches that got their start way back in the twentieth century in a bio-engineering lab just off the Santa Monica Freeway. They all worship old Jerry Lewis movies.

You are one of only a dozen or so humans left on earth. It seems that humans just don't survive well in the Finsters' new high-tech world, and they are no longer able to reproduce naturally. You're given the choice of: (1) being put in prison for the rest of your life as part of an attempted artificial breeding program, or (2) dying out naturally in your own home.

Is relative freedom or perpetuating your species more important to you? What would you choose? What do you think a tiger or a water buffalo would choose?

Hardwired

2008-02-09T11:47:00.001-07:00

Politics can be frustrating. Indeed, it was during the last Presidential election that I heard a number of my friends complain, "How can anyone vote for that guy?!" Now, while I won't disclose exactly which candidate "that guy" was, I am pretty sure that a lot of people on the other side of the fence were saying, "How can anyone vote for that other guy?!"

The fact of the matter is that in American politics some people are going to vote for the conservative candidate every time, and some other people are going to vote for the liberals, and there's nothing that anyone is going to be able to do to change either of their minds. Using computer terminology, you might say that people are "hardwired" to favor one position or the other.

I've found that the same principle applies to the age-old debate between meat-eaters and vegetarians. Some people think it's right and good to eat the flesh of other animals, and there's nothing we vegetarians are going to do to change their minds. Pleas for the rights of the animals eaten, or even for mercy to save them from pain, will go unheeded. Arguments about the effect of diet on the global environment will be ignored. And even attempts to address their self-centered interest in their own health will be scoffed at by these meat-eaters. They're "hardwired" to eat meat, and no amount of "software" programming can change that.

I must say that this frustrates me and my vegetarian friends to no end. "How can they be this way?" we ask. "How can they 'not get it'?" "Don't they care at all???"

It's certainly tempting for us vegetarians to make value judgments about "hardwired" meat-eaters. It's easy for us to see them as unfeeling, selfish and anthropocentric. But, of course, all of this totally ignores their viewpoint.

From a hardwired meat-eater's perspective vegetarianism makes no sense at all. They think it's ridiculous to deny oneself the pleasure of eating meat. Moreover, it's antisocial, impolite, and generally makes a big fuss over something trivial. As much as we vegetarians think meat eating is wrong, hardwired meat-eaters think vegetarianism is just plain stupid.

Where does "hardwiring" to one point of view or the other begin? Well, while there may well be a genetic component, I have to think that most of the process happens after birth. What you end up believing will in all likelihood be greatly influenced by what your parents teach you.

Recently, I participated in an animal rights rally that required me to hold up a sign depicting an animal in some human-induced distress. (To be more specific, it was a calf taking part in a rodeo. Let's just say this poor guy's neck—with a rope around it—was headed in a different direction than his body!) It was interesting to see the reaction of children to this sign. I saw uniform expressions of shock and disapproval on their faces, while at the same time their parents had the equally uniform reaction of hurrying them away from my presence. Will most of these kids grow up hardwired against vegetarianism? You can bet on it.

So, which side is right—the hardwired vegetarians, or the hardwired meat-eaters? Of course we all like to think we're right. And certainly from a vegetarian perspective there are some compelling scientific and ethical arguments to support our point of view. But, to tell you the truth, I'm not certain. Meat-eaters certainly believe that the human pleasure that comes from eating meat outweighs the cruelty to animals, destruction of the environment and human health consequences that meat-eating necessarily causes. I can't say they're wrong, because I simply can't understand their viewpoint, any more than they can understand mine. We're hardwired in opposite polarities.

Of course, in vegetarianism, just like politics, there's a big middle ground of people who aren't necessarily hardwired in one direction or the other. Like most vegetarians, I've had plenty of experience with meat-eaters who were more than happy to espouse vegetarian principles and eat a vegetarian diet in my presence, while going back to their omnivorous ways among others. Actually, I think most people are probably this way. Our battles, just like their political counterparts, will be won or lost by who commands this vast undecided group.

Right now we're losing. Actually, we're losing horribly. But we shouldn't give up the fight. If we concentrate on the undecided voter—or rather, eater—we have a chance to eventually win over the majority. But there's no sense in trying to appeal to those who are hardwired against us. Sadly, they simply can't, and will never be able to, understand our position. We may as well agree to disagree—at least until we can find a brain surgeon with a very large pair of wire cutters.

Potential Dangers of Genetic Engineering—A Case Study

2008-01-28T14:26:00.001-07:00

To see an example of disastrous consequences arising out of genetic manipulation on animals, one need look no further than the recent experience of noted medical researcher Dr. Peter Gallanis. Gallanis, a Max Plank Research Fellow and Professor of Genetics at Duke University Medical Center in Durham, NC, has since the 1970s conducted extensive research on telomeres, tiny strands of DNA-protein attached to linear chromosomes in the body that allow replication without loss. Since telomeres shorten each time a cell divides, and continuously erode as an animal ages, many scientists believe they hold the key to aging.

By the mid-1980s Gallanis' research had isolated the genetic factors controlling cell division and telomere length, and he began the process of creating telomerase gene sequences that could maintain telomere length despite cell division—thus indirectly interrupting the aging process. Gallanis' initial work with fruit flies was encouraging, and he quickly began full-scale experimentation implanting his genetically altered material into mice. Again, the results were remarkable. In 1992 Gallanis published a landmark paper in the British research journal Nature chronicling his team's success in predictably extending the normal 2-year life span of mice to 5 years and more.

Anxious to apply his research to longer-lived organisms, Gallanis in 1990 began his highly-publicized experiments with porpoises. Using a grant from the National Institutes of Health, he retrofitted an old student swimming pool on the Duke campus and solicited donations of older animals from public aquariums up and down the East Coast. After some initial setbacks, Gallanis soon found that his subjects benefited greatly from the organ transplant drug cyclosporin. His staff would administer the drug to the porpoises in a paste made from the meat of a seagull native to the North Carolina coast. Soon, the combination of weekly injections of genetically altered DNA and daily cyclosporin treatment created a group of animals that displayed the genetic characteristics of a much younger population, with no measurable shortening of telomere length upon cell division. As early as 1997 word was circulating in scientific circles that Dr. Gallanis and his team had succeeded in creating a genetically-modified race of porpoises with potentially indefinite life spans. By all known scientific tests, their aging process had stopped completely.

It should go without saying that throughout the 1990s the pressures on Dr. Gallanis and his team to maintain their experiments on porpoises and proceed to a publishable result were enormous. With the commercialization of his work potentially worth billions of dollars, Gallanis found it increasingly necessary to avoid contact with colleagues and the press. He adopted a routine of taking his Land Rover to the Carolina coast almost weekly. An avid hunter, he would personally shoot the seagulls to be used in his cyclosporin treatments.

It was during one such hunting trip in September 1999 that disaster struck. Floyd, a massive Category 4 hurricane was making its way up the eastern seaboard and forcing the evacuation of barrier islands from Florida to New England. On the evening of September 15, 1999 Dr. Gallanis loaded three ice chests filled with seagulls into the back of his Land Rover and headed inland. The winds were already peaking at 50 miles per hour, and rain was lashing the roads.

Hurricane Floyd was to have another victim that day. A truck from a statuary business in Beaufort, South Carolina was passing through eastern North Carolina, bound for Washington, DC. Strapped to its flat bed were two small lions, carved in slate, that had been commissioned for the entrance of a new Senate office building annex that was under construction near the US Capitol. The truck was driving into a particularly bad curve on the Highway 1 Bypass near Wilmington when a combination of wind and treacherous road conditions forced its driver to swerve wildly. In the process the two sculptures were thrown from the truck, directly into the oncoming lane of traffic.

It was at that precise moment that Dr. Gallanis rounded the curve in the other direction. He saw the sculptures in the road, but there was no time to stop. Fortunately, thanks to quick reflexes and the high ground clearance of his Land Rover, he was able to successfully straddle the sculptures with no harm to his vehicle.

Dr. Gallanis was just breathing a sigh of relief at his good fortune when he saw the lights of a police car behind him. He pulled off the road and was immediately arrested for transporting gulls across slate lions for immortal porpoises.