Those Awkward Moments of Confession

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!)

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

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

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”)

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

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

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.