24 September 2009

Food Column

So I was thinking about that chicken coming up this weekend, and I started to worry. What if I were to get hit by a truck sometime between now and then? No chicken then.

Just as importantly, I started worrying about that found money in my checking account sitting there doing nothing other than earning 0.0000000005% per annum. I like to put my money to work for me.

I walked down and bought one whole chicken. The reason I fell back to one is that I did not know that you get other stuff with the chicken for the 50 pesos ($3.75 American). I forgot to take my camera. The senora there would have been delighted if I had taken some pictures. Maybe some other time.

Speaking of the senora, she carves the chicken for you before putting it into the bag. What a masterful job that was! Whack! Whack! Whack! With a big cleaver, and voila! The chicken is carved.

In addition to one whole chicken, you get two—what do you call the small baguettes?--and a little vegetable medley, and salsa. The vegetable medley consisted of baby potatoes, carrots, which were both a bit picante, and a green thing. One bite of that green thing tore my ass up. Of course it was a species of pepper that I had not run into yet. You would think that I had just arrived in México. But it fooled me because it was leafy looking.

Anyway, I carefully preserved what was left of the pepper and all of the salsa for a later date. A cooler is not necessary for that. There is not a bacterium in the world with balls enough to tackle those. I was a mess when I was done.

I decided to dine al fresco just to torture those two moron dogs chained up to the lady's camper right across the street.

I thought about giving the bones to the three cats that hang out here, but I do not feel comfortable feeding someone else's animals. What if one of those cats is allergic to chicken? As if. I did put the bones in the garbage can, which has no lid, without tying off the plastic bag. So they will get what's left of the chicken carcass, I am sure. But this way it is out of my hands.

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I do not chose to cohabit with animals just now. I have not for quite some time. I have nothing against it. In fact I thought about a bird for a fleeting moment at the big open-air market recently. I have cohabited with quite a few animals in my day. What I do not understand is why people chose to cohabit with an animal that is a moron, let alone two of them.

Take dogs for instance. There is a bell curve of normal distribution of intelligence in dogs. That should come as no shock. On the one end are the small number of dogs that are absolutely total idiots. Then there is that big lump in the middle consisting of your run-of-the-mill, half-assed dogs. On the far right end is that small number that are great, great animals, better and brighter beings than most humans.

I have had the honor of being closely acquainted with a couple of those great, great animals many years ago on the farm, both German Shepherds. My eyes wet up thinking about them. Hugo's dog, Hans, a shorthair, was of the same quality. If you are intent on cohabiting with animals or if you have children who love to kick animals around, then the trick is to find one of those extraordinary dogs.

Because think about it. Why would you chose to cohabit--share your living quarters—indeed share you life--with even a half-assed dog let alone a canine cretin? Now if you yourself want to run a dog shelter in your home for a worthless dog, that is a different thing entirely. God bless you.

Please do not extrapolate any of these comments so as to apply them to the humans with whom you cohabit. I am not talking about that at all.

It is difficult though because puppies will fool you routinely. It is nigh on to impossible to foresee the adult animal that a puppy will grow into. But it does not take very long until the true nature of the animal becomes apparent.

The only rational approach is to put the animal down humanely as soon as it becomes apparent that it is a moron or even a half-assed dog. Do not continue to cohabit with it unless of course you yourself are half-assed. Do not spend money on one of those con artist obedience trainers. He or she is not going to transform a half-assed dog into something other than a half-assed dog. If you are real lucky, it will just become an obedient half-assed dog. Do not foist it onto somebody else. Do not abandon it, for god's sake. Do not even take it to the over-burdened animal shelter. Just put it down. You will save yourself from a lot of heartache and from the waste of an enormous amount of your lifetime fooling around with the damned thing.

If you do not have the heart to do it yourself, take it to the vet who, for a reasonable fee, will happily oblige, given the suffering of animals that he or she has seen. The fee will be roughly equivalent to what you will pay to have it neutered. When you also take into account all the future health care costs for an animal that is essentially worthless, it is a bargain.

Look at this as kind of the Nietzchean approach to dog ownership.

You may have to euthanize three or four adolescent dogs, maybe more, before you find that dog of a lifetime, the dog worthy of cohabiting with you, of sharing your life with you. You must be worthy of that dog, too. If you are both half-assed, it does not make a dime's worth of difference. Come to think of it, I guess there is a lid for every pot.

If you have never seen a country overrun with half-assed dogs, come to México. That is why the subject is on my mind. Of course I could be entirely wrong about all of this. Put an implied question mark after everything I say here.

Cats are a different deal in my view. Cats can be so good at faking it. Of course there is a bell curve of normal distribution among cats, too. But even a dumb cat can sometimes fake it so well that he can appear to be brilliant and endear himself to you. I have yet to run into a Mexican cat that was not an absolute master at faking it because they all seem to be brilliant even though I strongly suspect that not one of those that I have encountered really knows up from down.

I don't know anything about lizards, but they are in a cage all the time. So what difference does it make? Same with birds. But if the damned bird will not sing or talk for its seed, put it down, too. Do not continue to cohabit with a freeloader bird. A healthy fear of a freeloader bird, a feathered leech, on my tight budget is what put me off that whole idea.

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We older folks do obsess about our food, don't we? I know because I just did it. Once older folks get past the weather, food is usually the next topic up. For older folks the essence of Schopenhauer's Will is no longer the urge to reproduce but the urge to feed ourselves. The impetus to eat and think about eating and talk about eating is powerful indeed in the golden years.

If you want to see a graphic illustration of what I am talking about, offer older people all they can eat for a flat price or better yet, free food. My mother and father patronize two different banks because they want to keep their finances secret from each other. Once per year my mother's bank puts on a free picnic for its customers. Iowa being Iowa, the vast majority of the people who attend are elderly. The bank does it up right with a lot of extra help to assist the folks in loading those plates and in carrying the full plates to the tables what with all the canes and walkers.

I drove my parents to this once and attended along with them. What a show. I got the idea right away in the long line of Buicks weaving down the road toward the site, all with their left turn signals blinking constantly miles in advance of the right turn necessary to get in there. As for the picnic itself, it was a slow-motion stampede.

You know something? I am still pleasantly full of chicken right now. I am finishing my first big Coke in a long, long time. And I need to get some rest. I have figured out what I hope will be a wonderful investment of the rest of that found money tomorrow. I will report back here on it all.


Beej said...

I am still laughing out loud over that slow motion stampede description!! I can just picture you attending that with the folks.

But I gotta add, lizards are very cool.

mister anchovy said...

I'm not letting you anywhere near my puppy.

Señor Steve said...

It was just a thought, mr. anchovy, not to be taken too seriously.

mister anchovy said...