I have had it with the whole, organic, raw foods movements.  Had. It.  I started watching a documentary called "Food Matters" on Netflix tonight, and I got so angry at what I was seeing on the screen I had to turn it off.  Besides being very poorly made, it was so full of half-truths and short-sighted self-righteousness that it was nearly unbearable.  Much like most of the whole, organic food proselytizers.  You believe in your cause, great.  But shut UP about it already.  We get it.  You're so smart to see the light about food, and it's your mission to save us all.  I, for one, am not so concerned about being saved.

Let me be crystal clear: I know I do not eat as healthily as I should.  I eat processed foods.  I love sugar.  I eat fast food, and sometimes I love it.  I know that the way I eat isn't particularly healthy. I need to improve my diet significantly.  I need to eat fewer calories.  My eating habits are directly responsible for my weight gain over the last several years.  And that IS unhealthy.  I also do not believe that we should be raping the land and drowning our food with antibiotics and pesticides unnecessarily.  But I simply can not support so many aspects of the crusades being launched on the food system.

Nearly every one of these crusaders (who I believe are less interested in better health or saving the environment than they are in sapping all of the enjoyment out of life) proclaim that, "we have lost our way.  We should return to the ways of our ancestors, who truly understood our relationship with the earth, with mother nature, and between the food that we eat and our bodies."  Many of these zealots are the same ones who believe that modern medicine is broken, and if we only ate the way people used to eat–with natural, organic foods that are locally grown and harvested by communes of love children who hold hands and sing to the plants while harvesting–then we wouldn't need modern medicine to the same extent we do now.

Well, you know what?  I don't buy it.  You know why I don't buy it?

 

Humans by Era Average Lifespan at Birth
(years)
 
Upper Paleolithic 33  
Neolithic 20  
Bronze Age[5] 18  
Bronze ageSweden[6] 40-60  
Classical Greece[7] 20-30  
Classical Rome[8] 20-30  
Pre-Columbian North America[9] 25-35  
Medieval Islamic Caliphate[10] 35+  
Medieval Britain[14][15] 20-30  
Early 20th Century[16][17] 30-40  
Current world average[18][19]

70 (2008 est.)

 

Now, I don't know about you, but I would really rather not go back to the good old days of eating only what's grown locally and organically if it means that I also have to go back to an average life span of 30-40 years.  How many people do you know who have died of natural causes between the ages of 30 and 40?  Our average life span has INCREASED by 40 years over just the last century.  We can't have lost our way all that badly if we're living an average of 30-40 years longer than we used to. Now, I know that there are many, many factors that go into these numbers.  Children died young, or women died in child birth.  Treatments for major diseases weren't as readily available.  But I am 100% certain nutrition played a significant part in those numbers as well.  And, to be frank, I would also take pesticide laced, inexpensive food over slaving all day long over a farm, going hungry during the winter, and still dying 30 years earlier.

Even at an average of 70 years, life is short.  I'm not advocating that everyone start eating Hostess Fruit Pies for breakfast, McDonalds for lunch, and a steak for dinner.  We should be eating more vegetables, and we should be eating more locally grown vegetables.  There's a reason why I go to the farmer's market every Saturday for six months out of the year.  But you know what isn't going to happen?  I'm not going to start eating all of my food raw because it's more healthy.  I'm not going to start spending 300% more on my food every month just to say I can have something that's "organic," whatever the hell that means.  No, I'm going to eat what I can afford, and what tastes good.  If I can find healthy options within those two criteria, then great!  If not, then I don't need to buy organic.

And to those people who are worried about genetically modified food, perhaps you should go back to your high school biology classes.  Humans have been genetically modifying our food for GENERATIONS.  Hundreds, if not thousands, of years.  In fact, it was a certain monk in the 1800s with an affinity for pea plants who introduced the world to Genetics.  (P.S. He died at the age of 62.)

I love heirloom varieties of foods.  I purchase my tomato plants from Seedsavers.org.  I generally go for the heirloom varieties at the Farmer's Market. But I don't love them because they're not genetically modified (because, as I mentioned above, they are) but because they taste better.  THAT is what I care about.  Taste.  It's why I spend $13 on a wedge of Parmeseano-Reggiano from the specialty cheese shop instead of getting the green can of white powder.  It's why I spend the extra dollar for the locally made fresh mozzarella instead of the flavorless waxy block wrapped in plastic.  It's why I buy the more expensive heirloom tomatoes or apple varieties at the farmer's market.  I'm not making a stand against genetically modified food.  I'm making a stand for taste.

If you want to freak right the hell out over preservatives or antibiotics in your meat, go ahead.  But as for me and mine, we're going to celebrate flavor, no matter where it comes from.  And that will be the last time I watch such a ludicrously lop-sided and biased "documentary" about the food system ever again.

 

A month or two before Christmas, I asked for some help from you, my loyal blog readers, for a little Christmas Project I wanted to put together.  You can read the full story here but the short version of the story is that there is a young, single mother in my apartment complex with a few young children who (I got the feeling) was struggling with things.  The oldest daughter was a bit of an outcast, and had let slip that the family was in rough shape financially.  Thanks to some very generous help from folks who read the blog, I was able to put together a little financial gift which was left anonymously.

Since that time, I have learned several things about the young family that have struck me pretty deeply, and I wanted to share them with the people who helped me out in my little project.

Perhaps most significant, not to mention heart-rending, is that the oldest girl has brain cancer.  I don't know how long she's been fighting it, but toward the end of the year, it took a turn for the worse.  She has been going through pretty difficult treatments, and has lost of all her hair from the radiation.  I don't know a lot of the details, but at the age of 9, at in the last couple of months, she has lost nearly all her eyesight due either to the tumors in her brain or the treatment to remove them.  She's been in and out of Children's Hospital in Seattle, and right now, the prognosis isn't looking so great.  I don't ever see her walking around outside anymore. She isn't able to go to school. Things are in a bad way.

For a large chunk of 2010, the mother had been unemployed.  In the middle of January, she landed a job as a receptionist.  I have heard that she is now working two jobs to make ends meet, but it's difficult because she has to be there to take care of her oldest daughter, not to mention the other two kids, one of whom isn't old enough to go to school yet.  The mother, who is a very sweet lady, broke down in tears recently in the complex office because of the weight of everything she's trying to deal with.  The more I get to know this woman, the more amazed I am at her strength and determination.

I didn't know any of this stuff when I selected this family for my little project.  And I didn't know it when I handed off the small sum that we managed to put together.  I only learned about some of it earlier today, and it's been haunting me (in both a good and bad way) all day long.  

I am so grateful to those of you who helped me with this.  I had no idea what all the family was going through when this all happened.  I don't know how they felt about what was left for them.  But I have to believe that it came as a help at a very difficult time.  

I am so thankful that I have been so blessed to know so many generous people in my lifetime, and that you were willing to step up and help me help someone you've never met.  I'm glad that I received the prompting to do this project, and you can rest assured that it will continue on in the future.  And mostly, I want to publically state how grateful I am to have the things I have.  This blog has often been an epic litany of complaints, but every once in a while, I get a proverbial slap in the face and realize just how good I have it.  I have good and generous friends, a healthy body, money to cover my needs and many of my wants, a good job, a loving family, and so much more.  

So again, thank you, thank you, thank you to those of you who contributed.  Know that your help went to someone who really, truly needed it in ways I couldn't even begin to understand.  Much love and even greater blessings.

 

One of the first things I did when I moved into my apartment in Seattle was to buy an orchid.  I have had house plants of my own since I was about 12 years old when my grandmother bought me a rope plant that I named Gertrude.  Then I bought another house plant that I named Henrietta.  (Apparently, I had this thing with naming my plants after those of my great-grandmother’s era.)    I have always liked orchids, but I’ve always been under the impression that they’re really difficult plants to raise. 

I got my orchid just after the bloom had fallen off, so it was only $2.99.  I only had the picture of the bloom from the little plastic stake in the pot to tell me what it was going to look like.  I could tell that it wasn’t going to be your standard orchid, though, and I liked that.

Well, orchids aren’t hard to raise, per se, but they are pretty difficult to get to bloom.  At least this one was.  It’s been three and a half years, and it’s blooming for the very first time.  And I can’t tell if I think it’s pretty or ugly.  It’s certainly very different.  And, it’s prettier from a distance.  If you get too close, it starts to look a little strange and otherworldly.  I will say that I think it’s fascinating that this flower is from the same family as those white or purple orchids you see all over the place. 

So, below is my orchid, Mabel.  (Gotta stick with the theme.)  Not sure which of the photos I like the best, but I’m leaning toward the first one.  What do you think?

Lady Slipper Orchid 1Lady Slipper Orchid 2IMG_3456IMG_3462

 

Yay!  I actually completed something.  This will be the last photo meme post.  And probably the last meme I ever do (until I get bored again in about two weeks).

Day 30: A picture of someone you miss

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First things first.  Yes.  I do, in fact, have an afro in this picture.  It was for a play.  I promise.  And yes, I am, in fact, wearing a Phantom of the Opera sweatshirt.  Because I was one of “those guys” back then.

Secondly, this was my group of friend my freshman year in college: Ryan Workman, Corey Speers, Jeff Larson, and Scott Langford.  Not pictured: Frank Mayo.

I miss these guys a lot.  We had SO much fun that first year of college.  Even though, with the exception of Jeff, with whom I interact every year or so, and who actually reads this blog, I have next to no interaction with any of these folks.  I haven’t talked with Scott in probably 11 or 12 years.  But I miss them quite a bit.  Life moves on, however, and they’ve all gone their separate ways.  Ryan went to med school.  Scott is a city planner in Utah, I think.  Corey got a combination PhD/MD if memory serves. Jeff is an MBA an lives in hell Arizona working for a national pizza chain in their accounting department, I believe.  And my afro and I split up just weeks after this picture was taken.  I don’t miss the afro, but I miss being able to grow an afro.  If I tried that now, I would look like this:

So, guys, I hope you’re all doing well.  Miss interacting with you!

 

Day 29: A Picture That Can Always Make You Smile

So, I love funny pictures, and thank to the Cheezburger network, I get access to a good 30-50 new funny photos a day.  Here are a few of my favorites:

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14944c50-337c-4e0c-8680-440085d96ec8

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sitdown

 

Day 28 – A picture of something you’re afraid of
(BTW, I’m ending these with prepositions because that’s the way they were written, but just know that a small part of me dies on the inside every time I do it.)

This photo is a “hell-to-the-no” kind of photo. I have opted not to show the photo here at all.  If you want to subject yourself to the horrors of the full-sized version, you’ll need to go here.  I don’t want to accidentally stumble upon the full-sized picture if I’m ever scrolling through my blog again.

It is a photo of a big-ass spider.

I effing hate spiders.  Hate. Hate. Hate.

You can read more about my overwhelming detestation and loathing of all spider-kind here, here, here, and here.

 

Day 27: A picture of you with a family member

image

Better yet, how ‘bout a picture of me with all of my immediate family members.  Including the far-away brother who is nearly done with his PhD in Sociology.  (And can I just take a moment to say how freakin’ jealous that makes me?  I should have been the first one in the family to get a PhD.  *grumble*)  Anyway…

With the family spread all over creation, and none of us with a bunch of money, it’s pretty rare that we all get together.  And it’s even rarer when there is a professional photographer to document it.  This photo was taken in the summer of 2006, I believe.  You can tell it was when I was doing Crazy for You at the Hale Centre Theatre in West Valley because there are red marks all around my mouth where I had the allergic reactions to all the spirit gum that was being used to hold my fake mustache and beard in place when I was playing the Bobby-As-Zangler part.

Before that, I think the last family photo we did was either in the late 90s.  And I apologize for the image quality.  I had to actually scan this photo into my computer with my craptastic scanner, because I don’t have a digital version of this image, since I didn’t take it.

So, this is my whole family nuclear family, with a couple of awesome in-laws thrown in for good measure.

 

Day 26 – A picture of something that means a lot to you

Sunshine, blessed sunshine.  Let the peaceful, happy moments…oh, nevermind.

Sunshine has not always been important to me.  For two years, while living in the wastelands of Arizona (sorry Jeff & Elneeta…I don’t love it down there), I would do anything to get away from the sunshine.  When you’re riding a bicycle in a suit in 125 degree heat, it can really take the love of sun out of you.

However, since moving up here to Seattle (4 years ago this Friday), my appreciation for the sun has grown by leaps and bounds.  Part of it is that we only get about 7.83 hours of sunshine a year.  The other is that sunshine here isn’t like sunshine in Arizona, or even Utah.  It doesn’t suck the life out of you.  It’s indirect enough that it is almost always an enjoyable experience to be in the sun. 

My mood is directly tied to how long it’s been since I’ve seen the sun.  (Come March, I get pretty unbearable to be around).  We’ve had several sunny days in the last week, and I’ve even had casual acquaintances remark about how I seem like I’m happier.  It’s true. 

So dear Mr. Sun.  Please don’t be a stranger this year like you were last year. Summer not starting until July 5th just don’t really work for me.

 

Day 25 – A picture of your day

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My day: Staring at a computer all @#$% day long.

I wish it were more interesting than that.  I really, really do.

 

Day 24 – A picture of something you wish you could change

I thought about this one long and hard, and wondered if I should post what I really felt or whether I should do something a little lighter, but what the heck.  I’ll post my thoughts, but I’ll not go too deep.

I wish I could change the way that being gay is viewed.  By the culture in general, but more specifically, within the LDS church.  I wish that it was just another aspect of normal. 

I hate that there’s so much fear, misunderstand, anger, hatred, contention, and judgment around it.  I hate that gay rights have to be a “cause.”  I wish I could change the pain and confusion that other boys and young men will go through as they try to make sense of it.

I have a lot of wishes around this issue…many of which I won’t discuss on this blog, but mostly, I just wish it weren’t an issue.

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