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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