I believe I’ve accurately quoted Homer Simpson there in the title. When I called recently for resealable packaging of God’s perfect food, bacon, my friend Richard (not Feder) of New Jersey (not Fort Lee) asked why I want such a thing and I replied because I can’t eat a pound of bacon at a sitting anymore and if I did my cardiologist would have a heart attack.
Let’s face it, anything that tastes as good as bacon is bad for you. If cigarettes carry a warning label, bacon should too. As I’ve opined before fresh strawberries and fresh peaches are notable exceptions, but it’s a pretty good general rule that tasty food and healthy food are inversely related. One of the running gags in the comic strip Zits is that 15-year-old Jeremy can eat prodigious amounts of any edible thing he finds. That’s funny because in many circumstances, it’s true. I started life at two feet tall and weighing almost eleven pounds. I was the biggest baby born in a large Manhattan hospital that year and until I stopped growing while others continued to, I was always extremely large for my age. I was the tallest kid in my sixth grade; there wasn’t even a taller girl, and if you remember sixth grade a girl is usually taller than any of the boys. That’s because girls mature relatively early and boys never mature at all.
I’m still above average in both height and weight, just no longer extremely so.
My cousin and I were the two largest kids our age we knew and when we were together, nothing edible was safe from our grasp. At a barbecue when we were about 14, the two of us teamed up to eat a dozen hamburgers, and a dozen ears of corn. Lettuce, tomato, butter, salt, and ketchup were also consumed of course, maybe onions, pickles, potato salad, and cheese as well. We could have eaten more, but they ran out of food. And I could do that without his help. Once, while staying at another aunt’s house (not my cohort in gluttony’s mother) I had a half dozen eggs and a pound of bacon for breakfast. I had some toast too, but not a whole loaf; I left room for the bacon. So I know from trial and error that I could at one time eat a pound of bacon at a sitting. It’s not bragging if you can back it up.
I met my friend Richard (not Feder) when we were freshmen in college he was and remains larger than I am so I suspect his eating habits, and mine were similar as he grew through high school. Since Richard asked why I wanted a resealable package for bacon, I’m willing to allow that he may still be able to eat a whole pound at a meal, and therefore see no need for my proposed invention. I know that no linzer torte is safe within his reach. In fact, I know that Richard (not Feder) roams the countryside seeking out the elusive best linzer torte ever.
When I was say 16 or 17, I enjoyed a snack as I arrived home from a hard day of talking in class and avoiding homework. To me, a snack might be something like a ham sandwich and a quart of milk. In those days, I would also consider liverwurst, roast beef and several other cold cuts acceptable substitutes for ham. I still like liverwurst, but I only like it once in any given day, so I don’t eat liverwurst anymore. Let’s face it: if liverwurst doesn’t repeat on you, it certainly repeats on me. My mother should have known better than to assert that I’d spoil my appetite for dinner, because as a teenager, food never did spoil my appetite.
Not only can I no longer eat as much as I used to, but I also take a medicine which has as a side effect reducing my appetite. That’s both a blessing, and a curse, but it is why I need bacon to come in a resealable package.