Temptations of the flesh
As of today, it has been one month since I've knowingly eaten meat.
This is quite incongruous with my past. For years I've been a hearty meat eater. No steak was too big (or bloody), no piece of beef jerky was too tough. Put that platter of ribs in front of me, and I'd lustily inhale it with astonishing speed -- and go back for seconds. I had a zeal for meat that rivaled that of the most voracious lioness.
Not anymore. Why? Well, I'm not entirely sure. I seem to be undergoing some sort of strange conversion. I rather abruptly realized I could no longer reconcile my love of juicy burgers with my love of living, breathing critters.
And so I vowed to stop -- or at least try to stop. So far, I've been successful, but I must say tonight tested my resolve. Those of you in the newspaper industry know this: When huge stories break, the buffet table overfloweth. It's kind of odd when you think about it. Who really feels like eating when thousands have just been slaughtered in an attack on the World Trade Center? Who can muster an appetite when the pope has just died? I'm not a religious person, but the enormity of the world's sadness at John Paul II's death still affects me, and gorging on fajitas doesn't feel quite appropriate.
Tonight the Web crew provided us with Mexican food. Lots and lots of Mexican food. We had two enormous bags of chips, roughly 1,800 flour tortillas and so much cooked animal flesh it made my head spin. Beef, chicken, shrimp, quail -- all sitting there in foil containers next to countless tubs of cheese, rice, sour cream and beans (beans with big chunks of meat floating in them). It all smelled fantastic for a couple of minutes, almost fantastic enough to make me throw in the towel and dig in. But then I got a better look at the little quail with its little wings and legs frozen in their cooked positions, and all doubts disappeared. I filled my plastic, compartmentalized plate with tortillas, guacamole and rice and marched back to my desk.
I'm a highly changeable person, and I could very well be merrily devouring a basket of chicken fingers two weeks from now. But at this moment I'm happily, joyously meat-free.
