I Had A Feeling

Sometimes I think I may have psychic abilities. They don't show themselves very often, and sometimes it's a stretch to make a connection, but they are there none the less. It may just be that I have powerful intuitive skills, or trust my gut, but I like to think I have a special gift. It became clear again to me this week when it was discovered that spinach will make you sick.

I tried spinach a few times as a kid and hated it. There were probably many reasons I reacted so strongly to the green weed, but I'm going to go with a psychic hunch. I hated the taste, the texture and the fact that I was told it was good for me. In retrospect, I wish my parents had told me doughnuts and Butterfingers were good for me too. Then I would have hated sweets as well, and not been embroiled in a life long battle with them. Sometimes my stubborn streak makes no sense. All I remember about spinach was that it always tasted like dirt. Maybe my mom was too mean or lazy to wash it correctly. She probably felt that a little grit would do us good. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't tell anyone. Now look what happened.

Bagged spinach has been recalled because people in 19 states are getting sick from exposure to the E coli bacteria. See, I knew eating weeds, vegetables, whatever you want to call them, would be bad for you. I wasn't fooled by the cartoon propaganda disseminated by Popeye the Sailor Man beep beep. I figured if eating spinach made me turn out like Popeye, he could keep it. I never wanted a speech impediment, gigantic forearms, or the ability to make music with a pipe. I took one look at his misshapen jaw and realized that long term exposure to spinach would alter my DNA in horrible ways. Don't think I didn't notice that the only girl that was attracted to him was Olive Oyl. Nuff said on that horror story. Now instead of being sailors, everyone who eats spinach is becoming the driver of a porcelain bus. Any food that sends me to the bathroom for hours at a time, whining and wishing for death, is a food I'll skip thank you.

"Wife" and I are off to the "Cell" tonight to see the World Champion (for another two weeks at least) White Sox. Things are looking grim on the South Side, but we'll have fun anyway. I'm sure some adult sodas will help numb the pain. I have to cancel her request for spinach dip. Later...Brian