If I had a dog, I think I would pick up its poop. Although I think the majority of men that go to the bathroom don’t wash their hands, I usually do. When someone walks out of a shop door and just stands in the middle of the sidewalk, in my way, I don't act up. I want to, I probably call them an asshole as I push my way by, but I don't deliberately stomp on their foot, or kick them in the knee. I used to, but I've calmed down.
I'm a better man than I used to be. I now chew my food with my mouth shut. I'm not overly loud, although I'm still a chatter hog at the dinner table. If I feel a sneeze or cough coming, I turn my head away from the table and cover my mouth. I'm now aware that soup is not a noisy food. I eat it quietly and use a spoon. My elbows are always on the table and I no longer eat any food with my fingers. Yesterday I proudly ate two sticks of celery with a fork!
I thought that I was ready for prime time. I was, and still am, excited about going out for dinner this Veteran's Day. However, I still have a problem. A friend, much more prim and proper than I, told me that I suffer from flatulence. I didn't know what she meant. She said that I'm always bloated after a meal. I asked if she meant that I'm farting too much. She said that I suffer from flatulence because I'm boated, that I probably eat too much and too fast. I said that I am a confused individual. When I'm confused I fart more. I had thought that if I chewed my food completely, until it was small enough and dissolved enough to be swallowed with ease, that my problems would be solved. Not so. This was what I had to eat yesterday evening.
- olive oil
- white wine vinegar
- chopped fresh parsley
- chopped onions
- chopped green peppers
- garlic, chopped
- dried basil
- red pepper flakes
- dried oregano
- thinly sliced Capacola sausage
- thinly sliced Genoa salami
- thinly sliced prosciutto
- sliced provolone cheese
- submarine roll, split
- dill pickle slices
- Olives
This pretty mundane, Italian sub sandwich was followed by a simple Amish, workingman desert. The Amish women would bake these desserts (known as hucklebucks at the time) and put them in farmers' lunch pails or lunch boxes. When farmers would find the treats in their lunch, they would shout "Whoopie!" It is thought that the original Whoopie pies may have been made from cake batter leftovers.
I ate this simple fare like a cow. I chewed and chewed. I ruminated, then chewed some more. I had been told that eating like a cow was good for me. Before I was half way through the meal, I felt a small, silent fart try to escape. I was still farting with regularity at 8:00 PM.
When I explained the failure of this "chew" "chew some more" strategy to my friend, the one who says I suffer from flatulence, she laughed and laughed. She told me that cow farts are causing more global warming than pollution from cars in California as millions of cows live there. A scientific report published a while back claimed that dairy cows in the area were producing almost 20 pounds (in weight, that's almost 10 kg) of gas every year, each. That's a huge, huge amount.
I'm a man, not a cow. But if your average cow rips off 20 pounds of farts a year, how much can I be expected to rip off at dinner tomorrow? I'm farting more than the average dude, if not as much as a cow. Do I change my strategy, eat quickly, not stopping to chew, leave a wad of cash on the table, get up before the music starts, and say: "Gotta run"?
Or do I chew, and hope for the best? I think I'll ruminate on that.
May I recommend for your enjoyment: Sound of one hand clapping
You may also enjoy reading: Leave me alone
Please stop by to read my: Other stories about my time homeless and on the street
See links for all the Genesis posts to date: Genesis Through My Eyes
Fortune has allowed me to come full circle and return to my earlier interest in photography. I am at that age were some weight loss would be beneficial. I certainly don't believe all photographers need to starve, but my initial goals are realistic, if not humble. The industry has changed tremendously, but the possibilities are unlimited. I am grateful that my parents' gave me a generic name. It's allowed me to explore numerous paths unhindered.
"I continue to seek exquisite beauty in my images, exploring all techniques, old and new".
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