Additions and Corrections

Damn. I'm never going to get to that post about my second-favorite metal.

In an attempt to be pithy and use one of my dad's trademarked phrases, I made a glaring error in yesterday's post. I implied, or, maybe, outright said that I would be saddened if the poor people never got to enjoy stuffed hummingbird tongues or sculpted radishes, and while that's true, I certainly don't object to anyone eating them.

There is, after all, such a thing as the good life, and one of the rewards for doing well in this world is being able to enjoy things others cannot. That may be sad, too, but something about supply and demand enters into it, I guess, and there just aren't enough truffles to go around.

There's nothing inherently wrong or unfair about being able to eat beluga caviar while others subsist on millet. What does upset and sadden me, though, is division of society or the world based on the staples of life. If there is a better grain of wheat, I think it shouldn't be reserved for those who can afford it. I'm rather unhappy with the "let them eat cake," idea.

I admit I applaud the efforts of those who, in the past couple hundred centuries, have modified crops and livestock. I'm certain that billions of lives have been saved by their work, and would never look down on those who've created the abundance that's now possible, nor those who eat it. Classes of food disturbs me in a political sense as smacking of elitism, but that's my problem.

On a completely different note, I'm experimenting tomorrow. I traditionally whip up a chicken soup when I'm feeling ill, but the organic leeks in the store looked so tender and fresh, I'm making it tomorrow, when I presume to be healthy. It can be said that I've never fully tasted my chicken soup, but between the gorgeous leeks and fresh, organic barley, I'm set to see if what I've depended on for the past thirty years to cure me tastes anything like I've thought it should.

Maybe I'll have that soup, and a side of Vidalia onions.