Healthcare providers and their marketing minions (e.g., Riger) love to talk turkey. And tofu. And oats. Yay, oats.
Had my annual physical this year. Now that I’m 50, I don’t like the tone of the conversation so much. “Eat this; don’t eat that.” “You sit too long; you worry too much.” “You’re too tense; halt the salt and cut down your fat.” Looking down the barrel of my first colonoscopy coming up later this year, I’m changing my ways. I’m eating right. Training like Rocky. Rethinking red meat. Cursing the carbs. Loading up on legumes. Yearning for yoga.
But wait, where’s the joy in this? I thought 50 was the new 30. We were going to have more fun, celebrate life, be more carefree and take it easy. What happened to that plan? Why are we talking about polyps, pilates, and paleo diets?
Boomers beware: when Jimmy Buffett wrote “Cheeseburger in Paradise”, he was not promoting paradise; he was selling sin. Pure, unadulterated fun in the sun (SPF 0). Charred beef straight from the devil’s grill. Sorry, JB, but we do thank you for the meat sweats and wonderful cheeseburger dreams.
Tried to amend my carnivorous habits.
Made it nearly seventy days,
Losin’ weight without speed, eatin’ sunflower seeds,
Drinkin’ lots of carrot juice and soakin’ up rays.
But at night I’d have these wonderful dreams
Some kind of sensuous treat.
Not zucchini, fettuccini, or bulgur wheat,
But a big warm bun and a huge hunk of meat.
Cheeseburger is paradise.
Heaven on earth with an onion slice.
Not too particular, not too precise.
I’m just a cheeseburger in paradise.
On second thought, I think I would like a cheeseburger before I begin the pre-colonoscopy cleanse-capades. And maybe I will wash it down with a cold one, too. Light beer is a “clear liquid,” right?
Co-owner/Managing Partner, Riger Marketing Communications