The majority of the things my mother taught me about nutrition were wrong.
It was the mid 80’s as I sat on a hideous yellow couch in our living room in Los Angeles. I unfolded the small personal tv dinner table by its legs in front of me while I waited for food to come. On the plate was my mother’s first attempt at healthy food. It contained beets.
“Eat it all!” she pleaded, “finish your beets!!”
I sensed frustration in her voice but I also felt that I was gagging on the beets. Something was calamitous to the palate existed in the purple slime. As I shoved the beets away I could hear my mother sigh. Before the beets my mother had tried to feed me the following foods.
- Quesadillas. A simple store bought tortilla with melted white cheese inside.
- Tortillas with cheese on them and beans and covered in ketchup.
- Chilaquiles. Fried tortillas stuffed with cheese and covered in tomato sauce and sour cream
- English Tea cookies with coffee
- McDonald’s Happy Meals!
I was in a busy lounge with Fly G in Hell’s Kitchen when he turned to me and asked me to play a game with him in his typically nasally warble.
“You tell me what person in here has my body type, and then I’ll tell you who has your body type!’
I jumped excitedly.
“That sounds fun! Ok let’s see, let’s see…”
I knew that his ulterior motive for asking this of me was to satiate his brand of body dysmorphia, so I looked around for someone who had Fly G’s body type and I would be very generous. He’s a bit taller than me and slender with a curved in back and only slightly outwardly curved stomach. A bit of an ambiguous “S” shape that suits him.
“You look like him!” I pointed to the lithe boy who was manning the tablet menu who had somewhat of an S shape to him.
“Oh nice!” Fly G said as he seemed pleased and took a sip of his beverage.
“Ok now do me.”
“Alright,” he said. “Let me see….no….no….”
Several minutes passed when he finally pointed out someone climbing the stairs.
“Oh yeah…” he exclaimed