Food Glorious Food

Foodie. It’s become a commonplace term. I don’t like it. As if I haven’t had enough trouble dodging the implications that what’s devoured causes and affects weight problems, in turn then laziness…the bad skin, soaring debt, and so on. Okay, maybe it’s partly true, but really…is it necessary to categorize a growing group of individuals who happen to enjoy fine cuisine, whether preparing, enjoying, critiquing, etc.; as Foodies? It’s wrong. We’ve all heard the overused default ‘relationship w/ food’ and it seems true that perhaps some simply treat theirs with the status of puppy love, as if nothing more than sending a harmless valentine while others engage in a passionate love affair riddled with raunchy exuberant tales. I love me some food…it’s just that a connoisseur who throws lavish dinner parties, trying my best to pronounce French dishes with a perfect accent I am not. Nor do I hope to come across as an addict or closet eater...someone who will one day need a hole cut out of my wall in order to join the general population, but you never know. One of my nicknames is Special K. A cereal brand. Sononymous with weight loss and for the most part pretty bland. Should I be concerned? Nah, just a clever alter-ego during mostly drunken episodes. It makes me feel better to think of it that way at least. Freud would have a field day I am sure. Now get this...a few days ago I'm reading a study/write-up/column/whatever that makes suggestions and dissects what type of arrangements to send to corporate clients in order to gesture appreciation, etc. Apparently fruit baskets are a no-no. Why you ask? You will never believe this. The connotation that you are sending fruit conjures up a psychological liking to the wicked witch sending a poisoned apple to Snow White or Cinderella, whichever one of those skinny bitches ate the forbidden fruit. Seriously? For Reals! You think I spend too much time thinking about food? Ha! Those profound phsychotherapist types are really delving deep. When I was in grade school we put on a production of the play Oliver. As a child I would have such trepidation for the moment when the poor little lead character would simply ask, in his impish and desperate plea for 'some more please'. The child just wanted a bit more grub. Give the child some more dammit! Oh Gawd...can you tell I was a fat kid? I just love to eat. Food Glorious Food...do I have you singing the theme song yet?

Toodles