Historical June 1994 article. Dates, prices, services and contacts describe the source period; current availability has not been established.
“KILLERS IN YOUR FOOD!!!” screamed the headline on the CBS News. “Do you know what you cat?” asked the Stcpford reporter.
I was only half paying attention, being deeply preoccupied by a late afternoon snack of Hostess Cupcakes, some Ben & Jerry’s Frozen Yogurt (Cookie Dough flavor), and a Bud Light. Nevertheless, something about the anchorman’s voice caused my head to turn to the screen.
I put down my cigar and began to listen. “Most Americans buy thinking they know what goes in their foods.
Most Americans think that they are providing their families a tasty and healthy diet,” he began, “but they’re wrong,” he sneered.
The picture on the screen changed suddenly and where there had been just a talking head there now was a gray-haired guy in a lab coat. He, too, was looking directly into the tube.
It was just like he was in my living room.
I took a quick drag of the cigar, a small bite of the cupcake, carved out a hunk of B&J Cookie Dough, and scooted closer to the screen.
I knew that this was going to be worthwhile.
After all, when guys in white coats appear on the screen, it’s big stuff. “I’m not a doctor,” he said. “although sometimes I play one on television.” This is getting intercstinger and interestinger, I thought.
Then the more or less doctor continued. “I’m here at this baloney factory. You probably think that baloney is a healthy food.” At this he began walking to his left. “But baloney is not a healthy food,” he said.
He made a grand sweep of his hand and pointed toward the horizon.
As far as one could sec there were baloney trees. Big baloney trees, little baloney trees, even medium-sized baloney trees.
It was almost like being at a political convention! “Yes,” he said, “these are baloney trees.
Each tree produces three to four yields of baloney crop each year. You probably knew that. And after the baloney plants are harvested, they’re put into this giant vat and cleaned, then they go into the baloney grinder, and finally, the baloney mold. You learned all of this in school, I’m sure,” he announced.
During his talk the camera had shown snippets of the baloney trees being harvested by workers operating from giant crane-like machines, the baloney manufacturing process, and a picture of the giant baloney mixer with its huge automatic arms, mixing the processed baloney. So far I’d learned nothing new.
It was interesting, sure, but if you’ve seen one baloney plant, you’ve seem ’em all.
I had finished the Hostess Cupcake but was still hungry, so I opened a bag of potato chips. Lettering on the bag shouted “NO MORE WIMPY CHIPS!” and I munched away, my manly image reinforced.
The anchorman’s voice caught my attention again. “We’ve just learned,” he began, leaning into the camera as if to share a secret.
I couldn’t help myself.
I leaned forward too, turning down the volume lest someone else hear our secret. “We’ve just learned that non-FDA approved vitamins have been added to the baloney!” That was it! NonFDA approved vitamins have been added to the baloney! Holy Cow! What is this world coming to?
In a state of semi-shock, I leaned back, popped some chips into my mouth, and took a swig of Bud Light.
The anchorman must have felt the tension casing too; he backed away from the camera, his mission accomplished.
The TV cut to a commercial for some sort of exercise machine; it looked like something that could also be used to pry the truth from some spy captured during W.W.II, the Big one. Violence has always appalled me, so I used my remote to change to something more appealing, the home shopping network. Is nothing sacred?
If they’re allowed to tamper with baloney, what’s next? Where does it stop? Why isn’t the government taking better care of us? Doesn’t Uncle Sam look out for its citizens? Thc next thing you know they’ll be saying that the government used unsuspecting citizens in radiation tests.
My mind had wandered, and by now there were no more chips in the bag, manly or otherwise. Thc Bud Light was drained too.
I got another beer, opened a can of beer nuts. and popped a Pig-In-A-Blanket into the microwave.
My curiosity had been piqued. however.
I began reading the labels on the food in my cupboard. Yikes!
It was enough to make a man yearn for home-made chicken pot pie. Those frank portions of those tasty and healthy Pigs-In-A-Blanket (great for the hurried homemaker, pop the suckers in the microwave for 30 seconds and you’re in business!) have the following ingredients: beef and pork, asbestos lining, turkey, water extract, dextrose, slat, corn syrup, rodent hairs, various workers’ eyebrows and eyelashes, hydrolyzed beef stock, sodium phosphates, diluted dioxin, aerated chicken spleen, sodium crythorbate, sodium nitrite, extractive paprika. Yucka-puckapoo!
My poor dogs, Moxic and Boomer, have been getting these for snacks: the poor babies. Fighting a state of shock, I pulled out my Ben & Jerry’s Frozen Yogurt and began to read the ingredients: Most of ‘cm I couldn’t pronounce, but the list ended with mononitrate, riboflavin, mace. MACE!!! MACE IN MY FROZEN YOGURT!
I gagged, took a deep drag on the cigar, and looked a bit further.
I grabbed a staple of my diet, prepackaged Peanut Butter & Cheese Crackers.
These handy snacks accompany me wherever I go. People often think that my blue satchel contains important papers and books; in fact, after I put in the day’s supply of Peanut Butter & Cheese Crackers, a couple of packages of M&Ms, a bag or two of nonwimpy chips, and a cigar, there’s hardly any room left for the work stuff. (That’s just as well, taking work home could lead to bad habits, like not watching the home shopping network!) Anyway, I started reading the label on the PB&C package.
The good news is that the package said “No tropical oils, low saturated fats.” I smiled.
I knew that these folks wouldn’t let me down.
We had, after all, been friends for year.
But then I began to go through the list of ingredients… neutered flour, niacin, reduced iron, distilled earwax, thiamine monoitratc, tocjam, riboflavin, salt, sodium acid phosphate, monkey sinus, leavening, citric acid, disodyum phosphate, epluribusunum. And then in much smaller letters it said, somewhat apologetically, “peanut residue and cheese.” My heart was racing.
If my favorite foods — foods I had chosen and cultivate, in part, because the packaging looked healthy — had these noxious ingredients in them, what hope was there for my other staples, caramel-coated popcorn, cheese whiz, Baco-bits, and Nestle’s Crunch?
This had hit me hard.
I felt a bit like I did when I learned that all gasolincs were the same. Is nothing sacrosanct?
The next thing you know, they’ll be saying that some politicians are going to make money from riverboat gambling.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my semi-middle age, it’s to take care of my body.
I try never to sweat, for example: all that exertion can’t possibly be good for your heart! And now I know that prepackaged food is bad for you.
If they’ll put non-approved vitamins in the baloney, nothing that comes from a factory is safe. So for me. from now on, I’m only eating those things that I can be sure are of high quality and are produced before my own eyes.
It could be worse, after all, I think I’m going to enjoy my daily regime of fried eggs from Parkmoor and a cigar for breakfast, a SlimFast for lunch, and Ted Drewes for dinner.
Originally published in The Times of Skinker-DeBaliviere, June 1994.
Read this article in the original newspaper issue.
Original source: SD_Times1994_06.pdf, printed page(s) 8; PDF page(s) 8.
