In Defense of Spam
You probably make fun of Spam, don't you? Makes you feel all high and mighty, doesn't it? Like you're some kind of food connoisseur or something.
Let me tell you about Spam.
It is delicious.
As a young Marine, my father was stationed on Oahu for a stretch of time. From the Marines he learned that no pain is so great to ever cause the shedding of tears. From the good people of Hawaii he learned about Spam.
If you're ever in a group of Polynesians and you start making fun of Spam, prepare to die. My high school econ teacher made that fatal mistake. He thought we'd all laugh along with him as he made his cruel Spam jokes, but all did not. No, no indeed. Not I, nor the Poly section of our football team.
And now for some perspective.
Do you eat ground beef? Ever? At home? Fast food? J'accuse! I know you do!
The story of ground beef, in it's many journeys from slaughterhouse to factory upon factory upon factory to the point that it ends up in a neat little package at your grocer, or, better yet, in a delicious taco or burger at your favorite fast food joint, is a revolting and stomach turning tale.
Trimmings. Scrapings. Feces (yes, feces!). Ammonia. Filler.
Those 'USDA Prime' or '100% Beef' labels that you find so much solace in mean nothing, niente, nada. Trust moi, I read about this stuff all the time. Plus, my sister saw Food, Inc. and she told me all about it, so, yeah, I know things.
But you're still not convinced, are you?
You're probably saying, 'I don't care, Spam is nasty. Don't you know what's in that stuff?'
Well, not exactly, but I can imagine all the parts on an animal, and you know what?
They taste good.
In Defense of Spam.