Udder Nonsense

As a library director, I’m a junk mail magnet.  Thankfully we have all safely passed into the promised “paperless” society or I’d have a real problem on my hands. (wink)  To help, I’ve asked one of my student workers to “censor” me from correspondence she deems too offensive to my time or intelligence.  It's become evident that a difference of opinion exists with the latter.

There is one piece of mail that I must read. PETA’s Animal Times.  For those unfamiliar, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA), is a twist of those annoying cat loving types you may remember from library school and vegetarians with an attitude.  Some even smell as ripe as the melons they eat.

It’s important that my setting be just right before this special communion between reader and rag.  Shut the door, pull the shades, slide my keyboard out of the way and just one more thing….gently unfold that recognizable, grease laden yellow wrapping of my McDonald’s Double Cheeseburger.  Mmmmm, smell that wonderful rotting flesh! And that hot, dripping cheese made with milk induced with bovine growth hormone. My own little slice of heaven in the library. Now I’m ready to read.

The cartoon on the front cover is usually my first belly bouncer. This issue was no exception.  Picture a man walking along a beach.  Lying on the sand is a giant Hershey’s Kiss, neatly wrapped in that tantalizing shiny foil. “Yippee!” he seems to say to himself as he jumps on his confectionary treasure when WHAM, a great white shark fishing for fat, balding men reels him in.  The message here, stick with M&M’s.  Any hook in that bait won’t hurt you.

The next story is about a PETA race car.  Zoooom. Apparently a deal has been struck with one of NASCAR’s “good ole boys” to make 800 left turns every Sunday for the animals.  Wide tires, dual exhaust, 700 horse, eh, I mean cranking power of pure fossil fuel fury. (Fossils are fine because they can’t be sprayed with paint and they don’t have whiskers.  They are also dead which broaches the contentious in-house debate of eating road kill) One part of the car I’m hoping to see closely after the first race is the grill.  Not only has PETA established a strategic inroad (no pun intended) into our country’s largest spectator sport, they may also be the unforeseen sponsors of the world's fastest insect smasher.

One final wipe with my sleeve.  Who needs napkins?

The last piece is about million dollar athletes who have gone vegetarian. Or is it vegan?  My mother is vegetarian so I harbor no disrespect to these good people.   A baseball player here, tennis player there, cute little captions with meat free testimonials. Charming stuff. As with every Animal Times I anxiously read, I knew I would eventually find my fleshy faux paus. Even this late in the issue. 

Still reading, I confidently pulled out my desk drawer and reached for the scissors. I knew I would soon snip the latest “PETA Poster Piece” for my metal cabinet collage. A quick glance to check for an available magnet. Yep. Eyes back on my quarry, I turned the page and there they were. Both shot with the long range accuracy of laser scoped marksman. ("Hunter" is a term strongly discouraged) An action photo of our famous vegan running back gripping a “pig skin” and the newest "meat free" hoopster shooting the tanned derma of a cow from the charity stripe.

Any chance I can have my next issue “supersized”?