Butter Is the Magic Ingredient
Social media brings out people’s anger in the same way that traffic and Wal-Mart do. Even people who are fairly decent in real life can get ugly in the comments section. Every so often, one of my friends will attempt to bring a little levity to social media by arguing about something ridiculous and inviting others to join in. It’s a way for people to debate without all the anger and emotions that serious topics inspire.
Whether or not pineapple goes on pizza is not a hill anyone would really die on. The crunchy peanut butter crowd probably won’t unfriend me for preferring smooth peanut butter. And I’m mostly certain that the your-meat-must-be-bloody people aren’t as rabid as they seem (but, to be safe, I will be avoiding them during the full moon).
Here are a few of the hills on which I wouldn’t really die, but I might at least clutch my chest and fall to the ground in pretense.
All food is better with butter
I hate cooking, and I think it’s fairly obvious to anyone who has actually eaten something I’ve prepared. However, I have stumbled upon an ingredient that makes any dish taste, well, like someone other than me cooked it. It’s butter, of course (which you knew because of the article title).
Recently, I bought some Hormel beef tips and decided to take the suggestion on the back of the box, which was to eat them over egg noodles. But I timed it all wrong, and the egg noodles got done before my beef tips were finished microwaving. Afraid my egg noodles would stick to the pan or do other Bad Things, I threw a tablespoon of butter in with them and gave it a stir. You know what? It was delicious, so delicious that, after I fed some of it to my brother-in-law, he asked for the recipe. “Butter,” I said.
Butter on vegetables? Absolutely — it makes them actually taste good. Butter on meat keeps it from drying out. Butter in desserts makes ’em nice and gooey. Butter in spaghetti? I honestly don’t know; I’ve never tried it.
Cats are more loyal than dogs
Dog people are fond of listing “loyalty” as one of the traits that dogs possess in abundance. But I don’t think they define loyalty the same way I do. Dogs are affection whores — they’ll just give it away to anyone. Other people’s dogs are always slobbering all over me, jumping on me, and nagging me to pet them. My cats don’t want affection from other people. They only want me. In fact, they’d like the rest of you to leave them alone (except for my cat Fat Zombie. He wants you to hold him).
I recently tested my sister’s dog Gretal, to see if she would choose a biscuit over my sister. My sister was getting ready to leave, and Gretal was about to follow her, to make sure she didn’t leave without her (one of Gretal’s greatest fears). But at the last moment, I offered Gretal a bite of biscuit. She was torn. She looked back and forth from the biscuit to her Mommy. Ultimately, the biscuit won.
Would my cats choose me over a biscuit? We’ll never know because a). they don’t like biscuits, and b). they absolutely don’t want to go with me wherever I’m going anyway. Cats are homebodies. They would choose home over anything.
Cars should come in groovier colors
Chevy got it right when they made the Spark — the color, anyway. The car itself tends to have issues. I drove a Chevy Spark for seven years. Its color was called “Grape Ice,” but you and I would call it lavender. I never had trouble finding my car in a parking lot, unless something big was blocking my view. Chevy Sparks come in all kinds of groovy colors, which is one of the main reasons to buy one (along with price).
Now I drive a red Dodge Journey, and it is nowhere near as groovy as it would be if it were yellow or orange or purple or pink. Why don’t cars come in more colors? Why do people insist on buying boring cars? I think brightly colored cars are safer because other drivers can see them better. Yet car companies keep manufacturing white cars that trick you into thinking they’re cop cars, and silver cars that blend in with the road, and black cars that are never clean again after you drive them off the lot. I guess car companies assume their consumers are boring people, and they may not be wrong. One time, a coworker and I were given a bright yellow Dodge Charger as a rental car. I loved it, but she was totally embarrassed to be seen in it. I still don’t understand why.
I wasn’t planning to pick the armadillo up, geez
You’ve probably noticed how you can’t even mention armadillos around some people without them having to share the one fact they actually know about armadillos. They get very stern looking and say, “You know they carry leprosy, right?”
“Yes, I know. I wasn’t actually planning to pick it up and rub it on my face, so it’ll be okay. I’m pretty sure leprosy isn’t airborne.”
There are so many interesting facts about armadillos, it’s a shame that most people only know about the leprosy. For instance, did you know that armadillos leave a trail of destruction in your yard? And that, if you startle one, he will run off in a loud, crashing stagger, as if he is drunk? And they are nearly impossible to catch in a trap.
This isn’t actually an argument. Mostly, I just want everyone to stop telling me armadillos carry leprosy. Find something else to contribute to the armadillo conversation.
No one looks good in polo shirts
No one. Not even you.
I taught high school English for a billion years, and during one of those years, the school board threatened to make us all wear uniforms, students and teachers alike. They were talking khaki pants and polo shirts.
You know who wears khaki pants and polo shirts? The staff of Best Buy. Are we preparing all of our students to join the Geek Squad? Actually, that’s probably an okay job. You know who else wears polo shirts? Fast food employees. People always say dress for the job you want. I sure don’t want to work in fast food (but if I did, I could enlighten the cooks about butter and its virtues). I’m pretty sure high school doesn’t exist to prepare people to work at McDonald’s.
Polo shirts are not flattering. They make anyone who wears one look like a middle-aged, suburban dad about to fire up the grill. Imagine a whole school full of teenaged suburban dads. Creepy.
What are your hills?
Are there weird topics on which you take a strangely strong stance? Drop your response below. I want to hear them.
And before you leave, check out this article by Shirley Jones Luke. As a former teacher, I find it so relatable. If you want to know what teaching is like, here ya go.
One more thing…I really, really like coffee. You wanna buy me one?
