If you grew up on a farm, you
rose to a super-meal of animals and starch. Eggs, bacon, sausage,
potatoes, and bread. A most digestive way to start the day, but hours of
intense physical labor lay ahead and you needed the caloric equivalent of
diesel to grind through it.
There are few family farms in
the U.S. now, but that greasy a.m. custom remains. It's the oil minus the toil.
Folks roll out of bed into automobiles that shuttle them to McEverywhere's,
where an arm passes infinity calories through a window. Instead of
dissolving through exertion, the food brick is simply transferred via stomach
from car to cubicle where it continues to sit. Others take it to another level
of impracticality and go to an all-night diner for the very same
"morning" feast.
It's as superfluous as
appendixes and wisdom teeth.
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