Who emancipated the radicals?

There are only two Fuddruckers in the state of South Carolina. This clearly infringes on my inalienable rights to eat the perfect hamburger without making a day trip of it. Sure, I can go to any fast food joint (over nine gazillion served), where I suspect that they inject free radicals into the meat. (Caution: geeky scientific crap ahead.)

Research has proven that free radicals = bad; antioxidants = good. I could go into a list of foods rich in antioxidants, but is the normal human being going to pick kale when he could have a waffle with strawberries and that whipped cream stuff that squirts out of a can (a biomass of free radicals roughly the size Finland, glued together with fat)? I think not.

The problem is that free radicals break down cells, speeding the aging process. You can combat this process with vitamins, supplements, and some mythical substance called CoQ10, which is nowhere found in nature. Unfortunately, the daily vitamin packs require a sherpa to heft them into the back of your mini-van.

It’s scary to think that processed American cheese food that squirts out of a can might be causing irreparable damage to your major organs as we speak. Do we see a pattern here? Put the squirt can down, back away, and nobody gets hurt. I inadvertently performed a science experiment recently, where I left my milkshake cup in the car. Three days of blistering heat had done nothing to render the whipped cream into liquid. Don’t even get me started on the cherry.

The other day I had lunch at a chain diner that offers breakfast 24 hours a day. Their senior menu started at age 55. I QUALIFIED FOR THE SENIOR MENU!!! The worst part was that nobody carded me. Somehow, while my back was turned I started looking my age. It was a rude awakening to learn that I’ve been forgoing whipped cream for the last several years for nothing.

Their failure to card me prompted me into a retaliatory gesture of self-destruction. I ate the bacon. Take that, friendly waitstaff! Nobody seemed concerned over this obvious cry for help.

I’d like to see a study with people my age who have eaten Boston Crème donuts all their lives, compared to people who have juicers and routinely drink milkshakes made with turnips and grass clippings. I can study the results on my long drive up to Fuddruckers.

When good cucumbers go bad

I have a vegetable bin in my refrigerator, which usually holds half an onion from 3 months ago and a couple shriveled up cloves of garlic. On those odd occasions when I decide to eat healthy foods, I may even put vegetables in it. The problem is that it’s invisible.

I know it was there when I bought the refrigerator. I mentally measured the drawer space to make sure that I could fit a head of cauliflower, a bunch of celery, two turnips, and a zucchini in there at the same time, which just goes to show how delusional I can be.

Today I had to go shopping, because the refrigerator was empty: no strawberry cheesecake, leftover pizza, or cream puffs in sight … and the bin magically appeared. I opened it to find a gelatinous mound of goo that used to be a cucumber.

I know that at my age I should be eating food rich in antioxidants, like blueberries, kale, and chard. When I went to the store, I managed to sail right past the produce section and end up in the frozen food aisle, my nose pressed up against the glass as I pondered whether to get the pound cake or apple pie. It was kind of hard to see past all the smudge prints. I’m pretty sure that the monkey bread I just ate had free radicals swimming in the cinnamon sauce.

Maintaining my post-menopausal weight requires mathematical snacking precision. One can of Diet Coke = one Twinkie. One walk around the lake = half a bag of chips. The fact that I can eat all the chard I want never even enters into the equation, since all the chard I want = zero.

Lesson learned. I’m determined to improve my eating habits, so as an after-thought, I picked up a rutabaga on the way to the checkout stand. I honestly don’t know if it has any nutritional value, but at least it won’t turn to mush as fast as a cucumber.