A Fish Named Sushi

A young woman was encouraging a hefty-sized man on how to lose weight.  She said she was starting to eliminate meat from her diet.  I always listen to these announcements with amusement and a little cynicism as I have no particular stand on diet anymore.  I'm no longer a die-hard vegan, not a die-hard macro, micro, or even paleo.

Though the paleolithic system has its appeal... I always wondered if a diet of berries, twigs, and wild game would morph me into Raquel Welch from "One Million Years B.C."  But each time, I know scanty animal fabrics are not my thing.  And the only consistently primal act in my bag of antics is calling my mother when I'm upset.  So again I nix the idea and reset focus on the new vegetarian in town.

She was going to eliminate everything that had moved.  What about milk, eggs, and cheese?  She really didn't get caught up with the details.  She didn't have any ethical issues.  She said, "I am giving myself permission right now not to eat any flesh foods."  A new mantra kicked into my self-talk -- "I am giving myself permission..."  It was quite liberating.

Like I was giving myself permission to read a neighbor's Post just once.  The issues were piling up and I wanted to see what Cindy Adams had to dish about that day.  Her column made sure not to miss out on the horse-burger scandal.  She reminded that horse-meat was such Good Eats in other places that she was once shown a heaping plate of equine delight as the honorary guest.  Most likely, her neigh to that tray was made with with the utmost tact.  But true to form, she told her readers, "Thanks but no thanks to eating Seabiscuit's cousin."

Indeed the horse-meat at the UK Burger King was a double-decker.  First, the obvious mislabeling factor.  No more jingles about the "all beef patty, special sauce, lettuce, cheese", lest the sauce is also put to question. 

Secondly -- and more the reason -- we confer great personality and a certain mystique to the horse.  To name a few , there was Trojan, Black Beauty, Mr. Ed, Seabiscuit, and following in his hoof-steps -- Secretariat.  Now that horse really lived.  He had a brilliant career.  He had heart.  We worried about that heart. Was he taking Atenolol?  We concerned ourselves with how he spent his days in retirement.  Enough apples and green pastures?  He had a book, a movie, and royalties... Jeez, he was more self-actualized than many women in his hay-day.  Working housewives were wondering why their glass ceiling was lower than the roofs on some of Secretariat's barns.

But for the others -- the cow, the chicken, the pig, and the fish -- it seems they can never exist in the realm of Maslow's Heirarchy as the horse.  Heck, they can't even fully escape the food pyramids.  And the one that is highly encouraged for consumption is the fish because it's touted as the best anti-inflammatory flesh food (look at the Eskimos, experts say), replete with protein, omegas, minerals, and vitamins D and B12.  It's easier to digest.  It satiates without stuffing.

So unless a fish was recognized for accomplishing something exceptional, like synchronized swimming for instance, we find it hard to confer a nobleness of spirit, let alone, unique personalities.  Not until an ambitious fish comes along and makes a name for himself, people will still order a halibut just for the halibut.

Thus, a fish must do something grand.  Be the best geek-fish and win a Nobel Prize in Science for figuring out how to clean the world's aquatic.  Only then comes veritable joy to all other fishes in the deep blue sea.

Or perhaps it may be in the Arts.  There may very well be an actress-fish who hears the call of Esther Williams.  Her little gills pump a bit faster with every thought of becoming the next sensation in aqua-musicals.  First come the water shows, then Hollywood, and ultimately, her very own swimwear.  She loses weight.  She gets her face done.  She signs on with Starkist Talents.  And before she heads to each audition, her pygmalion agent would holler, "Tell 'em Charlie sent ya!"

It's March, still bleary, but spring that clock fwd & have a Happy National Nutrition Month! ~e