This line showed up in a recent poem emailed to me and, no doubt, dozens of others. I wanted to complete the couplet with, "And up, up into the blue sky/The turkeys flapped their mighty wings." Turkeys are on my mind, being as we just passed Thanksgiving. And, one of the holiest days of the year: Black Friday. We cooked up $21.00 of Diestel turkey breast for our guests. Nickie and I dined on stuffed Portobello mushrooms, having lost interest in eating animals ever since we read Jonathon Safran Foer's Eating Animals.
The hotel guests, that was a different matter. Turkey and baked yams were served, with pumpkin pureé for dessert. I spent another $20.00 on the perfect little Autumn-inspired boxes to send home leftovers. There was supposed to be more on the menu; asparagus, dressing, etc., but we did not want to send our guests home with a doggy bag and the trots.
And yes, I did feel rather bad about spending 40 bucks on such a luxury, 40 bucks that would have no doubt fed half of Somalia. Or gone towards my Plasma HDTV fund. I wonder if it works the other way. Does the Third World populace ever feel guilty for making us feel guilty?
No comments:
Post a Comment