[7/25/2002 3:08:30 PM | Andy Kovacs]
"I never forget a face, but in your case I'll be glad to make an exception."
- Groucho Marx


[7/25/2002 4:23:41 PM | Andy Kovacs]
Good morning, folks. On the way in to work today I stopped at McDonalds for breakfast. I had a Sausage Biscuit with Egg, a Hash Brown and a small coffee. It tasted good, but now I am thinking about all the fat, cholesterol, sodium, and, sugars. Did I make the right choice? Is this food really bad for me?

The answer to these questions, dear readers, is: It doesn't matter!

Why doesn't it matter? Because you can eat this stuff till you're blue in the face; you can eat this stuff till you're about to pop; you can eat it till your slim 32/30 jeans become 56/30. And none of this is YOUR FAULT!

No, my friends, it is not your fault. It is the fault of the fast food industry, according to an article in today's New York Post.

There is a man who is 56 years old. He has been eating fast food 4-5 times a week because it's convenient, he can't cook very well, he's single (according to the news story on 101.5 FM), and, he thought it was good for him! Now, after 2 heart attacks, high blood pressure and diabetes, his doctor has told him he can't eat it anymore or he will die. And like any human being, this gentleman doesn't want to die, so he is suing fast food for making him want to eat this food, for making him crave it.

It's not the fast food industry's fault that this man's life is on the brink of being extinguished, folks. When Ray Croc created McDonalds, he was just living the American Dream. Sure, the commercials for fast food restaurants are annoying, but they aren't manipulative unless you allow yourself to be manipulated by them.

You keep hearing on the news about how American Obesity has hit epidemic proportions. Well then so has American Greed and Stupidity. I mean, what's next? Once we're done suing the corporations, are we going to then sue the Estates of Ray Croc and Colonel Sanders?

Mom, Dad, I love you both, but you introduced me to the Big Mac in 1980 and I've eaten a lot of them since then. I've gained a lot of weight, my blood pressure is dangerously high, the sodium has soaked up all the water in my body so it hurts when I pee, all because of my eating habits. But I believe that you are to blame since you introduced me to McDonalds, so I am suing you for millions of dollars.

It is not fast food's fault that some people do not have any willpower. As cheesy as it may sound, even Jared, the SubWay poster boy, was able to ween himself off of all the crap that he had been eating that was killing him. He just found an addiction of another kind: SubWay sandwiches.

I am not saying that the "Jared diet" is a good idea, but at least he had control. He had the willpower to stay the course and accomplish his goal. He didn't sue anyone. He didn't blame anyone. Jared looked deep within himself and found what was making him miserable, and what he was willing to do to start changing his life. This is exactly the course of action I took to quit smoking. I didn't sue the tobacco companies.

So far, the law suit has only been filed. In my opinion, any judge worth his wig would throw out this case without even hearing any kind of testimony or argument. He or she shouldn't even read the brief. But my faith in the legal system has been further shattered by a couple of recent court cases most notably: 1) The case against the Pledge of Allegiance and 2) The case in New Jersey where the 40-something female teacher slept with a then-13 year-old student. The judge ruled that the teacher would not serve jail time, even though that was her plea bargain, but would be put on probation because he didn't see any harm in what was done. Pure, unadulterated genius. It will be interesting to see where this lawsuit lands: In the courts or in the trash.

To be honest, I didn't really have fast food for breakfast this morning . I don't really like it that much, but I have nothing against it. In a pinch, it can be a lifesaver! Normally, though, I'll eat something more nutritious. One of my favorites: Fuji Apples. There's one right here in my desk drawer. I'm getting hungry so I'll talk to you later. Till then,

-andy


[7/25/2002 2:50:35 PM | Andy Kovacs]
Good afternoon, folks!

I got some good responses to last week's Truth or Fiction!. Some were posted as Comments, others had emailed me their responses, but thank you to all who had replied because now I know I am not totally wasting my time on this site.

Here is the low-down on last week's story: Last week's story was entirely the TRUTH!

Yes, David, Ray and I did, in fact, form a club that went around and collected protection money from other kids. Here's the part I didn't tell you: we only ended up collecting about $14.50. Ray and I were the treasurers of the club and we spent the money at the carnival that summer. I gave David some baseball cards in return for his share (I think I gave him an early Mark McGwire card, too, dang it all). So, was our club morally wrong? Maybe it was, but I had a great time playing the neightborhood Mafia boss that summer. I really wanted to put out a hit, but we never got around to it.

Anyway, here we go onto our next Truth or Fiction!

My mother was taking care of two kids from up the street named Justin and Karen Wahlstrom. They were both good kids, but Justin was afraid of everything, and Karen always had a stuffy nose that leaked.

At the same time, my mother was still taking care of David and Laura (see last week's ToF). Kids will be kids and David, the younger of Justin and himself, knew that Justin was afraid of everything.

Case in point: we used to play a game called Spud, wherein each person would be assigned a number. Then, a person would throw a large, plastic ball into the air as high as he/she could and would call a number. Everyone would run, but the person whose number had been called. That person would catch the ball or chase after it and, once the ball was in hand would yell, 'SPUD!' Everyone has to stop running now. The person with the ball would take 5 giant steps toward anyone (whomever was closest or whomever the person held a grudge) and throw the ball at that person. If the ball hit, the person would be assigned a letter. The loser was the first person to have an S-P-U-D on them. Well, Justin wouldn't catch the ball because he was afraid that the ball would land on his head and hammer him into the ground, just like in the cartoons.

Anyway, David knew this and would tempt fate. He would try to abuse Justin and always do things to scare him or, sometimes, hurt him. Justin, however, was a rather resilient little kid and wouldn't really give a darn what David tried. Then one day while we were plaing outside, we started to smell something rather funky. We wrinkled our noses and looked around for the source of the stench.

Justin's eyes locked onto David and he said, "David pooped in his pants!" David's eyes began to water and his face turned red and he shouted back, "Don't tell us that! Don't tell us that!" The rest of us, my older sister included, began to chime in, chanting "David pooped his pants!" And, with each successive chant, he would retort, "Don't tell us that!" until he finally ran inside, crying hysterically.

Payback's a bitch! I was never so proud of Justin...until he graduated high school as the Valedictorian of his class and was accepted on full scholarship to Johns Hopkins University.

So - is the story Truth or Fiction? I'll give the answer next week! Till then,

-andy