Problems with Poultry

There are many serious things in this world which deserve my disdain- infidelity, cancer, and certain female senators running for President of the United States, to name a few. However, I was reminded yesterday after a routine trip to the grocery store of two slightly less somber—but sickening nonetheless—things in my everyday existence that I would much rather do without. Interestingly enough, both deal with the world of poultry.

1. Raw meat. I hate touching it, and the thought of sinking my teeth into a slab of rare anything makes me shudder. In the name of saving money, I often buy larger packages of chicken breasts when they are on sale and freeze them in packs of two. Yesterday, as I was nearly up to my elbows in raw chicken juice in my efforts to get them freezer-ready, I just had to wonder if such a disgusting task is really worth saving a few bucks. I know this sounds incredibly wimpy, but I blame my trepidations on the horrendous five days I spent in the hospital when I was 16 years old due to a bad case of salmonella poisoning (the worse case the doctors had ever seen, if I do remember their words correctly).

2. Chicken trucks. Recently, I have found myself behind Tyson chicken trucks more often than I would like. Now, I am not talking about these:

No, we’re talking the trucks with caged, live, squawking chicks. As feathers fly from the truck, I can not help but reflect on the foreshadowing of the fate of these little animals. Now, I eat my fair share of poultry and very much enjoy each bite, but I would rather not be reminded of the origin of my meals while enjoying a nice jaunt down Route 288. In fact, the last time I found myself speeding past a chicken truck, desperately trying to pass it and escape the cloud of feathers around it, I wondered to myself if the Virginia State Police would have pity on me were I to be pulled over for speeding. I would like to think so.

So there you have it- oh and guess what’s for dinner tonight…