I left my heart......

CAPTION: "I'm a jalapeno, she's a jalapeno, wouldn't you like to be a jalapeno too?"

 

I think the success of "fast food" is Madison Avenue's greatest achievement. Say something like, "I'm addicted to KFC original" is typically followed by a little uncomfortable giggle. Just a joke, right? I don' think so. Let's go ahead and get beyond the addictive ingredients in the recipes.  Maybe we can start with a casual conversation around lunch time.

 

"Hungry?"

"Yeh, you?"

"Uh, huh, what sounds good to you?"

"I feel like a Taco Bell."

Now wait a minute. We are talking food here, arn't we? But these two people are talking SOUND and FEEL. What do the AURAL and TACTILE senses have to do with food. I might accept the concepts if we're dealing with infants who see food as an entire adventure. But we are talking about fully grown, mature, literate human beings. They should be able to distinguish. I might even accept the expression, "What looks good to you?" That would be a clear indication the upfront advertising and menu layouts are working. But I'm sorry, I have no interest in how a hamburger sounds or feels. In fact, I consider the sound of a hamburger the least enjoyable part of the whole experience. I'm not a linguistic purist, but I think we've swallowed some mean linguistic bait.

Let me digress in time to illustrate. Many moons ago I am in a San Franciso riding a cable car down a hill to Fisherman's Wharf. The driver/conductor brings his transporation unit to an abrupt halt. He says there is a problem ahead and we'll have to walk the rest of the way. You know me?

"What's Up?"

"There is a bunch of dancers down there and I can't get by them."

"Only in San Francisco," I'm thinking. Its not an accident, not a gang shooting, not an explosion." It is a troop of dancers bringing the transportation system to its knees.

So I'm in no hurry. I stop and watch a while. These dancers are jumping around like they've just won a hundred million dollar lotto drawing. They are moving their lips yet nothing is coming out. Street mimes maybe?  And they are all doing this with bottles of pop in their hands. What a weird place. They are not going to get a buck of mine in their little tin cup. I have bigger fish to fry and move on.  

Jump ahead in time. Six months later I'm in front of the television overcome with DeJa Vu.  These silly little street mimes appear before me dancing around a street car. Only now I can actually hear what they had been pretending to sing.

"I'm a pepper, he's a pepper, she's a pepper, we're a pepper, wouldn't you like to be a pepper, too?"

"You are what you eat, " is clearly an understatement. These dancers are not just asking me to hear a pepper, feel a pepper, see a pepper. THEY WANT ME TO BE a PEPPER!

What ever happened to " wouldn't you like to be a doctor (pepper), lawyer or Indian Chief?"

So how would a pepper make a living?

Silly me. Dancing in the streets of San Franciso, of course!

You may want it to be? But this story isn't over yet. Tune in tommorrow for the exciting conclusion.

"If you're going by 7-11 would you mind. I'm feeling like a Dr. Pepper."