The Up Side
Looking at Life Through the A La Carte Menu
R
: : by Michael Grady
ecently, I was outed by a co-worker. We were on a business trip a few months ago in Dallas, where culinary diversity means T-Bone or Porterhouse. When our host graciously offered an array of steakhouses for our dining pleasure, my co-worker poked a thumb my way and threw me under the bus. “He’s a vegan,” he said. Our host regarded me with a look of horror. Veganism is still a throw-down issue in parts of Texas. Only after a day full of sidelong stares did he begin to believe I wasn’t going to sing Hari Krishna or hand him a pamphlet. “So why did you...become a vegan?” he asked. “Well,” I began, “Netflix didn’t have ‘Chariots of Fire’…” A disclaimer, here: Yes, this is a column on being a vegan. I did not call it that because, honestly, who would read that? (“Hey, an article on veganism! I’ll save that story on suspicious moles for later!”) I’m not here to condemn anyone for eating meat or dairy. Believe me, many a cattle drive has passed through the high country of my colon, bound for parts unknown. But the experience has taught me the surprising things that life can offer you if you are open to change. I never knew vegans even existed until about 10 years ago. My first experience with one was the ropy, long-haired tech guy at work who always screamed at me for taking his parking space. I came away thinking that vegans were gnarly, taciturn Gollums, embittered by a lack of Grand Slam breakfasts. I never had qualms about eating meat, either. Where I came from, vegetarianism meant a smaller cheeseburger. All that changed one movie night. “What do you want to watch tonight?” my wife asked. This was our weekly ritual when my wife suggests a film with strong characters and thematic layers; then I suggest something with face-kicking and explosions. “Chariots of Fire” seemed a good compromise—plenty of running and shouting, but they also sing Gilbert and Sullivan. But I couldn’t find it on Netflix.
www.lovinlifeafter50.com
“Let’s try this documentary,” she said. And so we watched “Forks Over Knives,” and I became a vegan. (If I’d found “Chariots of Fire,” I might have become a member of the 1924 British Olympic Team.) “Forks Over Knives” is actually very compelling. Instead of proselytizing, it presents the stories of people struggling with the ailments that Americans often face in mid-life: obesity, diabetes, heart disease, cancer, etc. Then it puts them on a plant-based diet and you follow them around as they drop pants sizes, shed medications and watch their blood chemistry detoxify. “Now, who is this guy?” I’d ask my wife. “He’s the guy from the beginning of the film.” “No, he’s not!” “He is,” she insisted, “with fewer chins.” The film delves a little into doctrine: lower cancer and heart disease rates in rural China, where meat and dairy consumption is negligible; the power of meat and dairy lobbies, and how that affects U.S. nutritional standards. But the meat of the movie (so to speak) is the profound positive change wrought on these people who embark on a plant-based diet. What distinguishes it from an infomercial is the absence of accessories you absolutely must buy. The guideline, as one gentlemen says, is simple: “Don’t eat anything that had parents.” “We should try this!” my wife said as the credits rolled. I agreed. Marriage taught me, long ago, not to reject anything on concept. Better to try it—like we once tried inversion tables and our “no-TVnight”—and cast it off in a week when it gets too irritating. So, we tried it. A year and a half ago. We’re still trying it. Not because it’s incredibly easy (it’s not!) but because of all the discoveries I’ve made: • “You’ll be surprised how easy it is!”—Someone said this to me when I was just starting this diet. I wish I could remember who that was
so I could hit them with a shovel. It’s awkward and difficult—for the first 30 days. But once you’ve established what you can eat... • Your Biggest Obstacles are Social—Finding places you can eat with nonvegan friends; explaining why you’re ordering a la carte at the nice restaurant, or why you’re just having salad at the company pizza party—without making people feel weird—becomes your biggest challenge. • Cheese over Chocolate—At college, my unofficial major was cake and crème pies. So, I thought desserts would be the hardest things to surrender. Not so. You miss cheese more. Cheese is to food what John Goodman is to movies. It’s in everything. It binds humanity together. Wisconsin, the Persian Gulf of Cheese, wields enormous power over us all. • There’s Still Good Food Out There—People tell you that, without steak and chicken wings, food is blander. Well...they’re right. But like a blind person who develops an acute sense of hearing, you better appreciate the taste, texture and character of the foods you do eat. Seriously. But the clincher for me—the thing the keeps me saying stuff like, “Wow! That’s a tasty carrot!”—is the dramatic change in the list of things I worry about.
I’ve traded into a much better list. “It’s about all the things I don’t have to worry about anymore,” I told the guy in Dallas. “I’m surprised more people don’t do it. And I think a lot more will be doing it in the years to come.” “But you’re not opposed to eating animals?” “Oh, no,” I said. But that was months ago, and to be honest, I feel a change there, too. Like former smokers now repelled by cigarettes, the sight of a rare steak is kind of nauseating now. The faces of livestock land a little differently on me. I’m not saying that’s better or worse—I might be going soft in the head—but I would just rather stare into a plate of beans. The other day, on Facebook, someone posted a photo of a Dixieland group playing music at a pasture fence. All the cows came over to listen, and I was just glad I no longer ate anything that might share my love of jazz. Michael Grady is a Valley-based freelance writer, reporter and playwright.
Things I Used to Worry About: Heart disease/stroke My blood pressure My cholesterol numbers Looking like the Graf Zeppelin when I step out of the shower Love handles so big I’d eventually have to name them Digestive issues Keeling over like Don Corleone while playing with my grandchildren Things I Worry About Now: Finding a vegan friendly restaurant Finding something I can eat in the fine print of the menu at a regular restaurant Alienating friends at their dinner parties Vitamin D supplements Drilling an extra hole in my belt Convincing my family I have not joined a cult Thanksgiving
June 2014 : : Lovin’ Life After 50 : : page 7