I’m not one to awake to the sound of a screeching alarm clock. I prefer to use the more humane sounds of a radio to knock me out of my slumber and for the past couple of years, since getting out of the Top 40 radio “biz”, my clock radio has been set to the local NPR station.
This morning I awoke to a news story about the city of New York’s efforts to reduce trans-fats in restaurants. While noble in it’s intent, I’m not in favor of this ban.
First of all, I don’t believe that it’s anyone’s business but my own as to what I do to my body, and that includes what I eat. If I want to go to the local Burger Bomb and down a heaping plate of innocent potatoes that were fried up in an artificial goo, well, that’s my business. I don’t need some do-gooder wagging their skinny finger in my face for eating something that I knew wasn’t good for me. Unlike these wretched smokers, I’m not inflicting these trans-fats on anyone but myself, save for some poorly timed farts. And if I didn’t know that this concoction wasn’t good for me and I ended up dying because of it, well, I chalk that up to natural selection.
Look it, we’ve all been taught what we’re suppose to eat and what’s not good for us. If a french fry can live under a car floor mat and still resemble it’s original intent ten to twelve weeks later, it doesn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out that there’s something unnatural going on there. If it can live in your Chevy through two seasons, imagine what it can do to your insides.
Now I’m not saying that restaurants should be loading up their food with all this unnatural, artificial crap and be playing sweet and innocent. I’m not saying that at all. Like all products available at your local market, consumers have a right to know what’s in a dish and other assorted vital statistics. The majority of it is available at all the fast food chains and on the internet. It’s up to the customer to decide if they want to eat the chicken nuggets that have been fried in plentofentonoilyoila. “You feel up to the task? Eat hearty!” Just be smart about it.
If the do-gooders are going to ban anything in food it should be that hellish substance called “Olestra”. To this day I can’t drive down the Thruway through Albany without pointing out to Earl the tree I used as a rest room after eating my first snack pack of Pringles made with Olean (the cute name for Olestra) back in 1994. “Why didn’t you wait until the service area?” “And risk permanent damage to the car?” Explosive bowels indeed.
Did I sue Pringles? Did I threaten the convenience store? Of course not. The label was clearly marked “fat free living with Olean” or something like that and I made the conscious decision to eat the chips. It was a learning experience and it made me stronger and a tree along the Thruway taller.
So no, I don’t believe there should be a ban on trans-fats. Educate yourself and just don’t eat the stuff. Consumers should take responsibilities for themselves. Our freedom is being eroded away on a daily basis.
For the love of Ronald McDonalds, let us enjoy the french fries if we want to.
