Sometimes, all you need is a Devil Dog. Or a Suzy-Q. Or pizza. Or some peanut butter. I guess I'm not too picky; as long as it's junk food, it's pretty much great, and it can make a bad day so much better.
It all seems so obvious, how great junk food is. But so many poor souls -- including most of the people I live with -- sit around eating Grapenuts, granola and yogurt, drinking water instead of Diet Coke.
Obviously, there are thousands of horrible problems with junk food, and there are thousands of good arguments for healthy eating. But doesn't everyone always say that moderation is the key? So why eliminate the fun food altogether?
For example, I made a deal with my mom (who harbors several irrational fears of soda, Diet Coke in particular) that I would drink a glass of milk for every can of Diet Coke. And in that line of thinking, I propose to the world that we consume a big piece of cake for every piece of celery.
Sadly, of the nine other people I'm living with this term, only one shares my love for crap. But thankfully, Chris is probably even more passionate than I am. He's a Little Debbie fanatic, a Diet Coke addict and he recently taught me to add a big glob of peanut butter to my bowl of Cocoa Pebbles (a genius concoction).
Together, we've planned meals of hot dogs, macaroni, cookies, milkshakes and soda. We've fought against the eight organic-food-eaters for the appreciation of Kraft Macaroni, and we've struggled to get sugary cereal and candy added to the weekly shopping lists.
But as a rather untolerated minority, Chris and I have been repeatedly shot down, losing out to salads and generic and/or annoyingly pretentious brands of macaroni and cheese. Apparently our energetic and fun demeanors aren't enough to convince the rest of them that sugar is the way to go.
I'm not sure about Chris, but this situation is not necessarily new to me. I spent my high school years trying to persuade my friends to try gummy hamburgers, squeeze pops, strawberry soda and more. Unfortunately, I was viewed more as a novelty than as a role-model.
Still, I will never abandon the cause. Chris and I have tried everything. We've tried sneaking spoonfuls of sugar into their cereal, we've pleaded with them and we've even tried to reason with them.
"I must admit that one time I bought maple cookies made with 'real maple syrup' in a Toronto Duty-Free shop, and they literally hurt my teeth," Chris explained. "Not just that, they hurt my friend's teeth. And at a recent organizational meeting, the aforesaid dreaded cookies were present, and despite my warnings, three other undergraduates, a graduate student, and a member of the Ethics Institute hurt their teeth on the super-sweet 'real' maple as well. The point--natural or junkfood, it's the overkill (and not the source) that does it in."
Not even this rather interesting take on the issue can help the junk food campaign. We always fail. No one seems to appreciate the goodness of crap.
I thought I'd entered a safe-haven for junk food a few days ago when one of the healthy housemates and I (two naive midwesterners) decided to see what that Friendly's restaurant was all about. I don't think either of us was expecting what we found. But I was definitely thrilled when I walked in the door and saw a little girl eating French fries and a hamburger, sitting next to her doll, who was eating a pickle and ketchup.
And I was thrilled when I opened the menu and read about all of the greasy entrees and sugary desserts offered. Naturally, I went with ice cream, as it seemed to be the featured food group; I ordered a big, giant Oreo cookie milkshake-type thing.
Thinking I'd trapped my friend in a crap-only eating environment, I was sure she'd join me in some good old chocolatey ice cream. But then she turned to the waitress and said, "Do you have any tea that's decaffeinated?"
"Yes," our server said. "We have decaffeinated tea."
"Okay, I'll have the decaffeinated tea."
Though the absurdity of that exchange softened the blow, I still couldn't believe how little our junk food campaign had accomplished. Decaffeinated tea? That's it? Maybe that's a sign that it's time to throw in the towel. I might as well go drink some milk with my mom.
