GUY:
I just ate kale.
ME:
I don’t care.
Announcing you ate kale is like the bringing-up-the-SAT-score of vegetables. Nobody asks, but annoying people find a way to work it into a conversation. Haven’t we evolved as a species so we would no longer have to eat things like kale? I’m sure that cavemen thousands of years ago were grunting in a field, “One day, son, we no longer forage for weeds. There be long metal fire sticks for me to kill big beast, and then me eat porterhouse steaks and me no longer sound like Cookie Monster.
NUM NUM NUM
.” Recently at a school event for parents, one of the moms was nice enough to make a bean soup. Being a fan of free food, I grabbed a bowl, tasted it, and did the obligatory “This is great!” The soup mom then said
with a big condescending smile on her face, “I snuck some kale in there.” I nodded politely, but I felt like throwing my bowl at her. This soup mom was trying to impress me with a plant trend that will likely have the life span of a fruit fly. Well, one can only hope.
Whole Foods
If there is one main source of health food propaganda that exists today, it is Whole Foods. Our local Whole Foods store even sells T-shirts that have kale printed on them. I suppose this does help us identify people nobody wants to talk to. It seems that they are just bored at Whole Foods. “All right, what else can we sell these half-wits? Just hand me a plant. Not that one. That’s poison ivy. Wait … can we make milk out of that? Just grab the other green plant thing, say it’s healthy, and charge fifty bucks for it.” If you are someone who shops for healthy food in a large metropolitan area, you probably spend all your money at Whole Foods, or “Whole Paycheck,” as it has become known. They should just have a garbage can at the entrance of Whole Foods with a picture of a wallet positioned over it. “How many items do I get? Two? I’ll get the grapes for five hundred, and, Alex, I’ll have the loaf of bread made of wood for ten. I’ll put the rest on my Amazon wish list.” I think the business idea was “It’s like Costco, but instead of bulk, you get nothing.” If you’ve ever looked at your receipt upon leaving Whole Foods, you’ve thought to yourself,
Wow, I’m really not good at managing money.
Unfortunately, you only remember how expensive Whole Foods is when you get there. “These prices are ridiculous … oh, I’m too lazy to go to another store.” You win again, Whole Foods. You win again.
MORE WATERY WATER
Two-thirds of this planet that we call Earth is made up of water. Well, that’s what I’ve always been told and seen in photos. I think that’s what all that blue is on the globe. I’ve never personally checked if it’s all actually water. The Indian Ocean could be filled with blue Jell-O and I really wouldn’t know. Anyway, my point is, we got a whole lotta water on dis here planet. Not all of the water is potable, whatever that means. We all know that access to drinkable water is a very serious issue in many parts of the world. Luckily, in most parts of the United States we have clean, drinkable water available from just about every faucet. Yet we all buy bottled water because tap water, we have been told by the bottled-water folks, is scary. These anti-tap-water people act as if bottled water didn’t at one point come from a tap. It’s not like there was some French guy next to a stream individually filling bottles. “Le one, le two … Jean-Paul, hand me another bottle … le three.” In my scenario, the French guys don’t speak French very well. Anyway, how did we get to the point where we’re paying for bottled water? I imagine it was some weird marketing meeting over in France.
PIERRE:
How dumb do I think the Americans are? I bet you we could sell those idiots water.
JEAN:
Pierre, the Americans are pretty dumb, but they’re not going to buy water.
PIERRE:
Oh, yes they are. Let’s just tell them the water is from France. They took that enormous lady statue from us, didn’t they?
And we bought it. Evian is even
naive
spelled backward. I don’t know if you were like me, but when they first introduced bottled water I thought it was so funny.
Bottled water? They’re selling bottled water?! Well, I guess I’ll try it … This is good! This is more watery than water. Yeah, this has got a water kick to it.
For some reason they have nutritional facts printed on the side of the bottle of water. I’m no chemist, but I’ve got a rough idea of what’s in water. I kind of expect to turn the bottle and see a recipe printed on there. “Oh, that’s how you make ice cubes. Apparently you just freeze this stuff. (
reading
) Oh, but you need a tray. That’s how they get you. They probably want you to buy their tray. That’s how they get you.”
For some reason bottled water from another country is more appealing.
“Oooh, Norwegian water! They got better water than us. They’ve been drinking water a lot longer than we have. They are better at it.” The Norwegians have a special relationship with water. They ski on it.
We need water. Seventy percent of our body is made up of water. Well, I think. I don’t have time to do research about water. The fact is that water is important. We know we should drink tons of water every day. Like six glasses or something. As a result, we are searching for ways to make water more palatable. Flavored waters are everywhere. The most popular is VitaminWater, which is basically adult Kool-Aid. “I know it’s
three bucks a bottle, but this Kool-Aid water has vitamins in it. I’m saving so much money on vitamins!” Supposedly coconut water is like nature’s Gatorade. I’m not sure what the difference is between coconut water and spoiled water. Coconut water, which I think is water from a coconut, has surged in popularity. One time while in Jamaica I witnessed a coconut being sliced open and then I drank the one ounce of coconut water. So there have to be at least twelve coconuts used to make one twelve-ounce bottle of coconut water. That’s a lot of coconuts to use to get something that tastes that bad.
Recently I tried Smartwater, which has electrolytes in it, and it’s supposed to replenish your body better than regular bottled water, therefore making you, I guess, smarter. I tried it, and it totally worked. I am now much smarter. Now I only drink tap water.
SOMETHING’S FISHY
It is probably no surprise to you that I’m not a huge fish-eater, mostly because fish is disgusting. I really wish I could be that guy at the restaurant who looks over the menu and decides, “Well, I rarely get to go out to dinner, but instead of getting a delicious steak I’m going to order the fish, because I like nasty-tasting things.” How bored are you with eating if you are ordering the fish? “You know what, just bring me something gross. I like to waste money.” I’m not even sure how we are supposed to tell when fish goes bad. It smells like fish either way. “Well, this smells like a dumpster … let’s eat it.” I don’t think fish even like fish. That is why fish are always frowning. “What’s that smell? Oh, that’s me. I’m a fish. Ugh.”
Jeannie is a devout Catholic, so during Lent we eat fish on Fridays, which is meant to symbolize the suffering of Jesus on the cross. What? This means at some point some people had the following conversation:
GUY 1:
How should we honor the suffering of Jesus on the cross?
GUY 2:
Well, we could fast. We could starve ourselves.
GUY 1:
No, that’s too easy. What if we ate fish?
GUY 2:
I’d rather be crucified.
I recognize that many people enjoy fish and that fish is good for you. However, at times it feels like there is an elaborate fish publicity machine at work. “Fish is so good for you. Fish cures cancer. Fish captured two members of al-Qaeda.” Well, it still smells like a dumpster. This fish lobby seems so passionate, I’m usually hesitant to express my dislike of fish. I often feel like when I do, I’m treated as someone who doesn’t know how to read. “You don’t like fish? I could teach you. You could take night classes!”
I sometimes think no one really likes fish. They just won’t admit it. Occasionally you’ll hear someone say, “I like fish just as long as it doesn’t taste like fish.” I have news for those people: you don’t like fish because I’m almost positive fish is supposed to taste like fish because, well, it’s fish. That’s the catch with fish (pun intended): the word
fishy
is only associated with something negative. When people compliment a fish dish, they actually say it’s “not fishy.” You’d never hear “Try this hamburger: it’s not burgery.”
Fishy
is an indication something is wrong. “Is something fishy going on here?” “No, no. Everything is burgery.” Sometimes fish will be complimented by saying it tastes like something else. “Try this halibut: it tastes like chicken.” This selling tactic never works for any other food. “Try this steak—it tastes like tofu.” I always think, well, instead of eating the halibut that tastes like chicken, why don’t I just order the chicken? It doesn’t help that most of the things that are supposedly so good on fish seem to be the things that kill the taste of fish. “This deep-fried fish doused with vinegar, then dunked in a gallon of mayo and relish, is delicious!”
I’m surprised that anyone would enjoy fish at all, but I am shocked and amazed we are still serving fish with the head on
it. What are we … barbarians? I always feel like the eye is looking up at me. “Hey, you don’t mind if I watch while you eat my body? Don’t be distracted if a tear comes out. You can just tell yourself it’s butter.” I suppose some people prefer fish served with the head on. “Yeah, I’ll have the fish … keep the head on there. Oh, and do me a favor—find out if it had a nickname.”
In some cultures they eat fish for breakfast. “Good morning. Here’s some fish. It matches your breath.” There are not a lot of things I like to do in the morning, and eating fish is probably at the bottom of the list. While I was in Iceland doing shows, I went down to breakfast and was shocked to find a large jar of fish oil at the beginning of the buffet next to twelve shot glasses. Yes, they are
drinking
fish for breakfast! I can’t think of any time when anyone would want to
drink
fish, but most definitely not after they just woke up. “Should I have orange juice, grapefruit juice, or fish juice?” I bet fish oil at breakfast was the best thing that ever happened to grapefruit juice. “Finally, I’m not the worst thing here.”
The Icelandic cure for morning breath.
Sushi
I don’t like fish, but somehow I enjoy sushi. I never said I was someone who followed logic. And, no, I’m not a person who thinks that seaweed makes things taste better. (Does anyone?) Well, to be honest, I
tolerate
sushi. I don’t really consider it a meal. Once, Jeannie asked me if I had eaten dinner, and I responded, “No, I just had sushi.” Sushi in general doesn’t make sense. Sushi seems like something someone came up with to get people to
stop
eating fish. I could see some evil dictator demanding: