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 Holiday enchantments overwhelmed my senses one afternoon during an excursion to an outdoor mall.
At the first store, Dickens carolers roused sentimental feelings of a bygone era. The Christmas spirit, complete with love and joy, roasting chestnuts and wassail permeated the air. (Wassail – is that animal, vegetable or mineral?)
The next trendy boutique transported me into a modernistic winter wonderland with fake snow, white lights and light metal music. I almost bought an edgy outfit suitable for an office party on Mars. After that, I learned that fairies can actually grant Christmas wishes in the enchanted tree store. Colorful winged elves dangled from every branch, and I found myself thinking it could happen. Of course my emotions screeched back to reality in traffic on the way home.
It occurred to me during this mall excursion that people want to believe in something, especially during the holiday season. Whether we call it Christmas Magic or even fate, our hope for good things during this time of year is so great, we attempt to produce it artificially. One store displayed a sign that simply said: I BELIEVE. And I couldn’t help but wonder: In what? Santa Claus? Christmas Angels? Wondrous feelings that never change? |
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Expecting an overdue reply about an important project, I opened my Inbox yesterday with anticipation. 16 emails awaited me. My hopes sunk as I Scanned the subjects and realized 15 of them were Spam, leaving one little Christian chain-mail, forwarded by someone I think I met at a conference once. This left a window of time for me to ponder the true definition of “Spam.” The ingredients list on the original Spam can (which is an actual food product) is indeed a lengthy paragraph, including compound and hyphenated words that are not in the dictionary. My conclusion is that spam is made of a bunch of cow, pig, and maybe chicken parts that are not the first choice of American grocery shoppers. These parts are mixed with preservatives and flavor enhancers that make it palatable. In other words, the left-overs are consolidated and packaged in a way that might taste good to some unsuspecting soul.
Growing up in the 60’s, healthy food consisted of Potato Chip crusted Tuna Casserole, Pigs in a Blanket, and Kool-Aid. Even so, as a child I still suspected that when Mom fixed Spam for dinner, we were scraping the bottom of the food barrel. Though it tasted good fried with a little mustard, I nevertheless sensed that I was eating something that may not, in fact, be real food.
Now Spam has become a family joke. My adult nephews give a can of it to each other every year for Christmas. We laugh over the fact that Spam can withstand nuclear attack, realistically has a shelf life of about 50 years, and is probably still being digested by our stomachs since childhood. After eaten, Spam leaves one feeling full for awhile. But regret eventually follows due to the aftermath of Spam on one’s gastrointestinal tract.
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