My Fair Lady

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?

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!

"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”

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

"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

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

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.