I ate a slew of bologna sandwiches while growing up. They had a unique smell after sitting in a lunchbox or brown paper sack. It was a much different aroma than that of a peanut butter & jelly sandwich. Both versions were quite tasty by noontime. Lunch hour of course varied at different schools.
Fried bologna sandwiches were my favorite. The hardest part on making them was trying to keep the bologna flat in a frying pan. It wanted to rise up like a meat balloon.
My brother, Jim, sectioned a slice of bologna with his fork into four pieces, with this method preventing bologna bloating as we liked to call it. I preferred mine intact and devised a way to make sure it was completely fried on both sides.
Initially, I’d stand there with a fork and push the meat down, but that got to be tiresome. Being creative, I found that you could take a large spatula and sit it on top of things. That did the job effortlessly.
I ate bologna sandwiches up until my mid-adult-years. At that point, someone told me they were bad for my health.
“That stuff will kill you!” a friend claimed.
The number two line repeatedly preached was,
“That stuff will plug your arteries!”
I didn’t want to die an early death, so I quit eating bologna sandwiches cold turkey after receiving this bad news. A friend insists that hotdogs are the worst out of all processed meats. Never mind that family and friends supplying me this information have zero nutrition or medical backgrounds.
They most likely got their knowledge from self-described experts on television and magazines. You’ve seen those medical entrepreneurs. They’re the sharply dressed men and women hawking pills, creams, and books, all having Dr. in front of their name.
Vienna Sausages and Armour Potted Meat were favorite snacks when placed between Ritz crackers. Too many horror stories about what was actually in the stuff drove me away from it.
Since that time, I’ve been advised that diet pop’s bad for you including regular soda. It came a little late. I recently did some math ciphering with a SONY calculator finding that I’ve drank 3,000 gallons of both, give or take a gallon.
More than one individual I’ve bumped into fired off the following warning,
“Sugar is what cancer thrives on!”
So much for Coco Puffs in the morning. I loved this cereal, and especially liked drinking the bowl of chocolate milk afterwards. It was a quick breakfast and one that sent me blasting off to work.
These days my wife and I spend more time eating chicken and salad than anything. It’s supposed to be a healthy alternative. Sometimes we mix the two together just to be creative. Squirting on ample salad dressing can spice things up. Thousand Island is my favorite because it adds a touch of upscale restaurant flavor.
Recently, I read where bagged salad using Romaine lettuce from another country was laced with e-coli bacteria. I can’t mention this country’s name because the article didn’t provide it. They merely used the word, “imported.” I’m thinking that balsamic vinaigrette would be a better choice dressing here over Thousand Island or Ranch.
I did some online research finding that men in 1865 had a life expectancy of 40.1 years. Folks in 1865 were eating fruits and vegetables raised without unnatural fertilizers and pesticides. Meat was uncured, coming from animals that hadn’t been pumped full of hormones. Most all food back then was natural in origin. I believe the buzz word now is, organic.
Supposedly, certain food items today, compared to those back then, are not as healthy because of all the added junk. The life expectancy for a male in 2022 is 76.6 years. Simple logic tells me that the meals I’m consuming are actually healthier than those from 1865.
Countless armchair experts will testify that longer life expectancy is due solely to better medical technology. On the other hand, these are the same folks telling me that medical and big pharma are out to get us, financially speaking. Some go so far as to say, doctors don’t want to find a cure for cancer because of all the money being made. Really?
Using their flawed philosophy, I’d say that increased life expectancy is derived from one thing alone: preservatives. A can of Spam has lots of preservatives. There’s no expiration date on Spam, only a best used by label.
If we can figure out how to place Spam preservatives into some kind of pill or liquid, expiration for humans will be a thing of the past. I can see some slick-talking salesperson making a killing off that brilliant idea.
Of course, it’ll be a sharply dressed man or woman with Dr. in front of their name!