Food is glorious... if you don't listen

"I agree about lifestyle choices. But, although it’s easier to grab something pre-made, it may not be helpful to demonise grab-and-go.

I suggest the food industry’s use of labels: processed or ultra-processed, healthy or unhealthy, are problematic. Social insecurities are bombarded with what is right/wrong - we are confused, guilt-riddled and accuse each other of being responsible for related health issues.

A recent post described fruit from a blender as processed. This means, anything I cook is processed since its natural state has been altered - I'm feeding my family deadly processed ready-meals! Surely, this is rubbish. And I don’t think calling food that's packaged and stored in the supermarket refrigerated section, as UPFs, helps.

There's a difference between a ready-meal, or sandwich, with real ingredients and others that have food substitutes and numbers.

If our primary needs are carbs, proteins and fats for energy to function, then labelling is nonsense. We could take tablets and maintain our weight. But a coated tablet would be considered ultra-processed, right?

We are addicted to information about food! Information from places we believe to have more knowledge about ourselves than we do."

I wrote this in response to a post on LinkedIn.

I wasn't happy with a scientist slating all ready-meals as ultra-processed food.

Actually, just looking back at the original post... he wasn't even a scientist. Tsch!!

Don't ever come between me and a ready-made ham & mushroom tagliatelle.

It annoys me!

Newsy Radio Hype

Have you noticed how a headline on the radio in the morning turns into a riot by the afternoon?

It begins with slightly loaded comments from presenters about one of the daily headlines. To encourage interaction from listeners, I guess.

The headline is then linked into phone-ins, showcasing the country's engagement. So by mid-morning the newsreader's script is already edited to something more provocative, on the grounds that collective opinion has now become near fact.

But not quite...

Further newsy discussions pursue, with more somewhat one-sided opinions, as further script editing ensues and, the fear in human psychology to call out anything different, drowns out any opposition to the edited version of the original headline.

By the afternoon, perhaps different listeners have gathered. So, only hearing the fully edited headline that has now switched to an emphatic factual statement, people are suddenly enraged.

The radio is then awash with very angry people!

And I find myself caught up in it all...

A headline doesn't need to morph into an SEO frenzy, optimised to heighten agitation.

It's annoying!

Oh... You'd LOVE ittt!

This is one I’ve been wanting to share for ages. But I’ve needed to wait long enough for the protagonist to be as far away as possible before I publish.

When I get invited to drink with a friend I haven’t seen for a while, I get really excited. Actually, being invited to anything will do. But this was an old friend. A friend I rarely get to see.

So when she turned up with another friend, I was a little miffed. And I could leave this here since it’s another thing people do that annoys me – inviting friends along to meet-ups that were earmarked 'exclusive'.

Anyway, my story goes on and it gets worse. Two other people show up.

They could have talked amongst themselves and left my mate and I to catch up but… I had unwittingly written ‘Please can someone talk at me all evening?’ across my face.

That’s exactly what this woman did…

Actually, her story was quite interesting. She was super athletic, super competent and all girl power, which I like.

She ran her own business and seemed to be balanced between being dynamic and personable. I could even have been grateful to have met her if…

She hadn’t begun talking at me about her athletic prowess like I needed to be reminded of the definition. (def: Prowess: noun. Distinguished bravery; extraordinary ability).

Oh MY! It was relentless. It was gruesome. It was crazy. There simply wasn’t anything this woman hadn’t achieved. And she’d travelled with it too. Been to some amazing places, far far away.

I asked all the right questions. Ooh’d and aah’d at polite intervals. Showed as much enthusiasm as I could muster during a 40+ minute onslaught of a well-rehearsed monologue.

Now… I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, uh-oh! This is definitely going to annoy me. Well, yes, it did. For quite a bit of the 40 minutes but NOT as much as what followed.

It was beginning to dawn on me that she hadn’t asked anything about me.

She had no idea where my own athleticism lies in relation to her hectic schedule of kayaking 3000m around some pacific island, after dropping 500m down a cliff, into a cave where the kayak awaited her.

Nor had I had a moment to match the sky-diving excursion that had her pivoting around a lighthouse off the coast of New Zealand, as a pre-curser to an epic heli-skiing escapade off Mount Cook.

I was too busy learning about the summit heights of the High Peak in the Southern Alps - her annual climb, punctuated by Tasman Glacier to the east and the Hooker Glacier to the Southwest. Man… they are high! But she topped it recently with a trek to the Khumbu Glacier nestled between the ridge of Lhotse-Nuptse and the mighty Mount Everest!

And this woman runs marathons around these and other super-peaks in the most scary parts of the world. But not before she’s scaled north faces with a camel on her back singing the national anthem… in Swahili. Or so it would seem.

So, I was kind of awoken when she suddenly engaged me, directly. It wasn’t the question I’d momentarily decided to dread, instead it was this:

‘Oh… you would LOVE itt!’

What is that? What does this statement mean?

It can only be a prompt. A self-fulfilling prompt. She knows absolutely nothing about me! I feel it's for me to respond with something like ‘Oh you’re incredible! Oh wow! I wish I could be like you!’

Without thinking I responded. ‘No. I wouldn’t’. And the conversation went on as follows:

Her: ‘But why?’

Me: ‘Because I don’t want to do those things.’

Her: ‘But why?’

Me: ‘Because I actually don’t enjoy falling 500m from the edges of craggy cliffs into fibreglass cut-outs, no wider than my waist with a surface area of my kitchen table, sitting on water, in the dark, probably backwards and likely, upside down.

Pause…

Her: ‘But don’t you want to get out and DO things? What do you DO?’

Oh my word. There it is.

Me: ‘Stay at home.’

Her: ‘And do what?’ in a slightly squeaky voice.

Me: ‘Feel safe, warm and happy. I work hard, get to the end of my day, light my fire and share supper with my family.’

Her: ‘Oh! I just can’t face my day without achieving something.’

Okay, Lady! Now you’ve annoyed me. I sit up a bit.

Me: ‘I don’t like the feeling of falling like a stone. I don’t fancy battling the Pacific Ocean. I don't want to wrestle mountains. I have no desire to feel pain from the freezing cold.

Me: ‘But I do like spending time in my home that I helped build. I do enjoy caring for my family. I look forward to watching sunset and sunrise from a nearby hill with them. I don’t feel I have to run away. I’m happy with the life I lead’.

So, please, just because you’re bionic, don’t assume others want to be like you.

It’s annoying!