Almost 30 years ago an earnest young dietitian told me I had to change my ways. Changing my ways is not something I like to do. They are my ways, after all, and being a sensible and serious man, I must have seen some value in my ways or I wouldn’t have adopted those ways as my own.
But a doctor sent me to see this woman who knew all about food so when two experts are lined up against a man, his ways don’t stand much of a chance. Given that pressure, I changed my ways.
I had not been in the habit of looking at food as poison so it took some adjusting. First to go was two per cent milk. The choice I was given was between skim milk and rabbit piss. I chose skim and often wondered if bunny urine might have been preferable.
No more butter, of course, so I sold my churn and started buying my spread by the plastic pailful. I am not going to address the vegetable situation as this is a family show and violence is not acceptable.
But the lowest blow of all was being ordered to eat whole wheat bread. After 30 years of chewing on that crap, my advice to you if you are similarly sentenced to a life of abject misery is to skip the middle man, find yourself a wheat field and walk in and start munching.
This week I saw a loaf of normally expensive white bread on sale. I bought it, ate it and now have bought another one.
To the people at that high-brow bakery, let me raise a glass of cold rabbit piss to you. I know your plan is to kill me, but I have instructed my family to not press charges.
©2015 Jim Hagarty
