Category: Funny Business

For two years now, I have been eligible for senior discounts at fine dining establishments.

And for two years now, I have yet to take advantage of a single one. I just can’t do it.

No doubt it’s silly … why not enjoy that sweet 10 percent discount that some places offer when you get the chance? I mean, living to age 55 should count for something, right?

And when you consider the fact that young people are now snacking on detergent pods, you realize fewer and fewer people will ever make it to that age.

Still, there’s something unsettling about a restaurant staff that throws you into the “senior” category. Because once workers find out you’re 55 or older, they start calling you “sweetheart” and “honey” and immediately tell you where the restrooms are located.

Screw that.

My date of birth is 1960, but I’m still counting on my expiration date being many, many years away. And while there might be a certain expectation of how 55-year olds are supposed to look, act and eat, I refuse to live down to them.

Yet there are seniors who happily take advantage of their discount. And many cheerfully order from a “senior menu.”

Next time you get a chance, take a peek at what’s available for us old folk.

It’s not nearly as good as the regular menu stuff, and it comes in small portions.

If it’s the day before you’re 55^th birthday, you’re encouraged to go the whole meat-and-three route, plus dessert.

But then the next day – because you grew up in an ancient world – you order a grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of tomato soup because, apparently, that’s what 55-year olds are supposed to eat.

There is even one restaurant, which shall remain nameless, that actually offers discounts to those of us 50-years old and over.

The catch?

You have to order from the children’s menu – I kid you not.

There’s nothing the wife and I enjoy more than going to a restaurant and eating processed chicken nuggets in the shape of clowns with a side of mac and cheese and a juice box.

Why not just put us in high chairs and throw a jar of Gerber at us?

Sure, the crayons and coloring book are a nice touch, but I still have a hearty appetite.

And that’s another thing about this smaller portion nonsense. When you go to bed at age 54 and wake up at age 55, does your stomach shrink overnight?

Do you tastes magically change?

No … they most certainly do not.

Look, I don’t mean to sound like an ass. It’s always good to save money and restaurants don’t have to offer discounts of any kind, so the fact that they do is a nice gesture.

They’re simply trying to throw a bone to the “Matlock” and “Murder She Wrote” crowd.

But sometimes niceness can be misplaced, and “senior menus” oftentimes perpetuate a stereotype.

I am acutely aware that there are 55-year olds who wear polyester pants up to their teats and long for the good old days when phones were plugged into walls and the coolest cat on television was Arthur Fonzarelli.

And if you are that person and you want to order the oatmeal with fruit and have the manager burp you when you’re done, great.

Enjoy your meal and be sure to leave a quarter for a tip.

There are many of us, however, who may be chronologically challenged but still want to look, act and eat like the cools kids.

So if you’re in the marketing business and work for a restaurant chain, keep this in mind. Perhaps at your next meeting you might consider making the senior menu less about age and more about tasty options.

Keep the coloring books, though.

I’m almost to the point where I can stay inside the lines.

My name is Scott, and I’m a vegetarian.

I’m still amused by the reactions I get from some people when I share this fact. It’s as though I’ve revealed a secret that makes them slightly uncomfortable – and wary of me.

Why, I don’t know.

All it means is that I don’t eat meat. It doesn’t mean that if I see you eat meat, I’m going to start screaming or try to hit you in the head with a hammer. I’m not on a crusade.

Besides, I still enjoy eggs, which come from chickens, which count as animals even though many of the chickens I’ve met are complete assholes. Even so, I make sure that the eggs I eat are from free range, cage-free chickens who are self-sufficient and have access to the best schools.

Also, I get that eating meat is instinctual. That’s why humans have teeth designed for shredding flesh, and why there are so many Golden Corrals and Cracker Barrels in business.

I just choose not to eat meat because it’s the right decision for me. As George Bernard Shaw said, “Animals are my friends … and I don’t eat my friends.”

He also said a lot of other things, too, but that’s the line that applies directly to this column.

Anyway, I’ve only been a vegetarian for a decade, so that means the vast majority of my life was spent dining on roast beast. And sadly, that’s a dining desire that does not go away – at least it hasn’t for me. So while it seems mildly hypocritical, I do enjoy meat substitutes.

Remember the TV series “True Blood,” where nice vampires sustained themselves on a synthetic form of blood (called Tru Blood) so they didn’t have to feast on humans?

It’s kinda like that.

Or think of “Blade,” who was a vampire but was able to thwart his bloodlust due to a special serum that allowed him to become a “Day Walker” and fight other vampires.

Tell you what … forget all that weird vampire shit. I’ve gotten way off topic.

The point is, while I love vegetables and fruit and eat plenty of both (and always have), I still crave “meat.” And fortunately, there are plenty of soy and hemp-based products out there that mimic the flavor.

Tempeh is the most versatile, and that’s my every day, go-to substitute. Its uses run the gamut from sandwiches to main courses.

There is also hempeh, which is like tempeh, only hemp-based. It’s very good, and I imagine quite popular among beatniks and folk music enthusiasts who smoke marijuana cigarettes.

And sometimes I’ll have fake sausage (soysage) for breakfast, a treat I’ve developed quite a fondness for. When I first tried it, it tasted like regular sausage that had quit trying, but now I really don’t even notice the difference.

Or maybe I just don’t remember.

Fake hot dogs (also known as Not Dogs) have also become a staple of my diet. There are some brands that taste like absolute garbage, admittedly, but there is at least one (thank you, Morningstar Farms Veggie Dogs!) that’s really good.

Even my wife, who still eats meat on occasion, enjoys Not Dogs. It’s like eating a regular hot dog only without the sheep penises and rodent lips.

Of course my primary weakness is still bacon. Back in my carnivore days I couldn’t get enough of it, and it remains the meat I crave the most.

Sometimes to fight the urge, I’ll have to watch “Babe” to get my head (and heart) right.*

* And I’m referring to “Babe” the movie about the talking pig and not “The Babe” with John Goodman starring as George Herman Ruth. All that movie does is remind me that good sports-themed films are rare.

Sadly, I’ve yet to find a vegetarian replacement for bacon. Absolutely nothing tastes like the delicious, sizzling sliced hog, which creates an aroma so good I have actually searched the internet for bacon-scented candles.

That being said, I’m quite happy with my decision to become a vegetarian.

I feel like I’m much healthier than I was during my meat-eating days, and I no longer feel guilty when I drive down the interstate and wave at cows.

I still can’t look a pig in the eye, though.

With apologies to Mr. Shaw, it’s a friend I still want to eat.

We’re now five days into a new year, so how are your resolutions going?

I’m guessing by this point some of you have already backed off your big plans to better yourself, and that’s not uncommon.

Too many times we make resolutions we simply can’t keep.

“Oh,” you say, “I’m going to quit stealing Jenna’s tuna salad from the break room fridge,” or “this is the year I stop cooking meth in my car.”

That’s crazy talk.

Instead, you should set attainable goals.

That’s what I do every Dec. 31, and I honestly can’t remember the last time I was unable to keep every single one of them.

The key is to sit down, make a list – a realistic one – and stick to it.

And to help you do just that, I’m going to share my 10 resolutions for 2018. And if you decide to adopt any and all of them for yourself, well, I’ll be flattered.

 

I will not ask anyone if they are “ready for Christmas”

This is a resolution you do not have to concern yourself with until the final two months of the year. Still, why does anyone ask this ridiculous question?

What would happen if we weren’t ready for Christmas? Would Christmas not come?

Of course not.

Christmas will be here every Dec. 25, ready or not. And I will not ask you if you are ready for it because it doesn’t matter and I don’t care.

Now Stephen Foster Memorial Day on Jan. 13 is another story.

There’s really never enough time to prepare for that.

 

I will not invade Iceland

This is far and away the easiest resolution to keep. Iceland is a long way from where I live and, to the best of my knowledge, no one in Iceland has ever offended me in any way.

Plus, I’m not a weapons guy. I have a Louisville Slugger baseball bat in the closet somewhere and a big wooden spoon, but nothing that would allow me to successfully subdue an entire people.

So, Iceland is safe from me.

Finland, however, might need to be on alert in 2019.

 

I will not watch an episode of “American Idol”

Never have, never will.

Karaoke is for drunks who feel the need to sing at dive bars. I did this once and the song I chose was a censored version of “Murder Was The Case” by Snoop Dogg.

Still haven’t quite lived that one down.

Anyway, “American Idol” is just televised karaoke, so I’ll take a hard pass.

 

I will not wear a tank top

Since I do not live in a  mobile home with a Confederate battle flag flying high above it; plan to star in a remake of the 1980 film “Cruising”; or play intercollegiate or professional basketball, there is no need for me to wear a tank top.

The danger of such an occurrence is nil.

 

I will not take in a poison dart frog as a pet

Sure they’re cute and colorful, but what the hell am I going to do with a poison dart frog? They’re only one-half to 2 inches long yet contain enough poison to kill 10 grown men.

Besides, I can’t think of 10 grown men I want killed at the moment. OK, maybe I can, but that’s a dark place I’ll steer clear of (to the best of your knowledge).

 

I will not watch any movie by Joel Schumacher with a comic book theme

To date he has done only one, the unholy abomination that was “Batman and Robin.”

I doubt he has plans to do another but if he changes his mind, I have a Louisville Slugger and wooden spoon at the ready.

 

I will not skydive

Jumping out of a plane?

You gotta be out of your freakin’ mind.

 

I will not order tater tots at Krispy Kreme

Only because they don’t sell ‘em.

 

I will not hunt or fish

I’m a vegetarian, but I’m not militant about it. I get that people like meat, and human beings have teeth designed to tear into meat.

Yet even when I was a flesh-eater, I never had any desire to go off in the woods and kill something.

I have fished, but never enjoyed it. Frankly, I don’t think the fish did, either.

 

I will not eat feta cheese

Why won’t I eat feta cheese?

I don’t know … why won’t you eat a raw goat scrotum?

Feta cheese is basically barf in crumble form. Not only do I not want it in my food, I don’t want in in my neighborhood.

Put another way, I’d rather eat potluck from a dumpster that this odious vermin vomit.

Anyway, I hope this helps as you navigate the rough waters of 2018 resolutions. And always remember … if you expect nothing from yourself, you’ll rarely be disappointed.