DISCLAIMER: Upon rereading this, I felt the need to be perfectly clear. This is satire. I have no negative feelings toward vegans, vegetarians, or veterinarians. Seriously. The events are true but the commentary is a total… total joke.
This is bullshit.
When I was young, my siblings and I would occasionally stay with my maternal grandparents in El Monte, California while our parents went on trips, attended events, or just offloaded us to get some freedom. Often times, or maybe every time, our cousin Emily would join us.
Jim and I did things like staging full football games on the front lawn with Scotch tape face masks. I have no clue what Erin and Emily did, but I’m pretty confident neither of them was running any routes over the middle. Not on our defense. For the record, I don’t think Jim and I were either; I’m pretty sure we just blocked and tackled, which came in handy later in life.
Grandma would always take the four of us to the Pic ‘N’ Save one of the mornings, and she’d give us each a dollar, or maybe five, to buy toys or accessories. She’d always say, “Buckle up for safety,” when we got in the car, and every time we backed out of the garage, I’d think of Napoleon, the old dog whom I believe to have been run over by a car backing out of the same spot. Might have been the same car.
When it rained, we’d sit at the front door and watch cars drive by to see which made the biggest splashes. We called those “Record Breakers”. We’d all share a bath in the evening, and I still get teased every so often that I used to stand up in the tub. Grandma would give us dessert each night, and we’d all fight over the GOLD SPOON!!!
Inspector Gadget was on the TV no matter what was happening in the world.
One night at dinner, I just would not quit the milk. I have always loved the stuff, but this night, seven-year-old (or thereabouts) Steve was going nuts. I recall Gram warning, “You’re going to toss your cookies,” and I thought these two things:
- “Toss your cookies!” Ha! Shit yeah. I’m using that.
- You can’t get sick from milk. Milk does a body good.
I had about ten cups of milk. It came back up.
I LOVE milk.
I love meat too. I once ate an 8×8 at In-N-Out, and thought about getting another Double-Double for the road.
The point is that I am not a vegetarian. I couldn’t imagine it. That’s why I feel so betrayed.
What irked me were a couple of things I came across within a day or two of each other. I was hit with a Facebook post about milk, and a silly but aggressive video about vegan cuisine.
The milk post was a graphic comparing the dairy product to various alternatives. I liked what I saw from soy milk and almond milk, though I avoid almonds for one reason or another. The part that bothered me, though, was what it said about cow’s milk. I don’t want to scare anyone, so I’ll just say that there are some disgusting things in consumable milk that I didn’t need to know about. I’ll let you do the investigative legwork there if you feel so compelled. I personally will not perpetuate the takedown of my favorite drink.
I was disgusted. That day at the grocery store, I looked at my beloved cow pus blood juice in its antibiotic- and hormone-rich glory, and shuddered. I reached for the green carton of bean juice and slid away…
…to where they keep all the chicken. I got some sliced breast meat that is labeled as “for Oyakodon”, which is a rice bowl with chicken meat and egg. “Oya” means parent in Japanese, and “Ko” means kid. “Don” with a vowel sound similar to the one in the word “homophone”, means bowl. A chicken and egg bowl, is a “Parent and Child Bowl”.
Anyway, I bought the chicken.
A day or so later, another jerk friend posted a video produced by some militant vegan who is out to ruin the lives of everyone around them. In the video, a woman demonstrates the preparation of a “Tofucken”, the vegan answer to a “Turducken”, which I believe is a turkey stuffed into duck that was raised on chicken, as I was.
In the video, this vegan villain uses strategic wording in an attempt to sicken any meat-eating viewer. Well, her vile propaganda worked on me. I felt weak and vulnerable, but at the same time, I felt offended and a bit venomous. I will not tell you what she said that made me feel this way, but it was awful. I will leave it to you to find out for yourself if that is your self-destructive desire.
How dare she put these thoughts into my head, though? I love chicken, but when it came time to shop for groceries a couple of days later, I couldn’t even look at the poultry, let alone cut it. I was sick to my stomach when I recalled the vegan chef offering tofu as an alternative to “a corpse” and adding that one of the non-health benefits was the comfort of knowing that you didn’t need to consume “body parts”.
It’s been two weeks now, and I am on my fifth carton of delicious soy milk, wondering what the hell happened. My childhood self would be perplexed and even disappointed. I’ve had meat products since then, and even had the strength to cook them myself. I still haven’t been able to handle cutting any though. What if I never can again?
What if I spend the rest of my life disgusted by meat!
The thought that scares me the most though, is what if somehow, someday, I make some money and have some kids? What if some social terrorist then shows them that vitriolic vegetarian cooking show? What if they are just trying to enjoy still shots of “milk” on Yahoo! like their old man, and stumble across that meme I saw? There aren’t parental controls that precise.
What if my hypothetical kids (or yours!) are indoctrinated to be afraid of or disgusted by animal products at a young, impressionable age? What if despite all my efforts, they just reject meat?
I am bouncing back, albeit slowly, but if I had been exposed to this smut as an elementary school student, I may have been turned off to meat and other animal products this whole time!
It really is chilling to know that this kind of true information is available on the internet, and I guess you just have to trust that people will be strong enough to dodge it or filter it out all together.
It’s just scary. I’m still not back on cow’s milk.