Not Necessarily for Vegetarians
Appearances are deceiving. They are fleeting, transitory, easily affected and unsubstantiatable (is that a word?). Judging others by their appearance is dangerous and makes us targets to be judged ourselves. Frankly, I think we should cut one another a little slack. Granted, first we all need to stand in a circle and hold hands and repeat solemnly, one after the other, “My name is (insert here), and I judge by appearance.” Admitting is the first step to overcoming.
Don’t tell me you don’t do it – it’s not even always a negative thing. Why do we always presume that if we’re judging someone, we’re judging negatively? We see an adorable child, clean and scrubbed, with shining hair and wearing a smart little outfit and we immediately burst into throes of, “Oh, isn’t he/she just the cutest thing?” How is that offensive? Nor is the judgment necessarily correct. That same child might just punch you in the back the minute you turn around. Been there. Done that. Not a nice kid.
Truthfully, if the person sitting next to me in a crowded bus reeks of old alcohol and stale cigarette smoke, I’m not happy sitting next to them. I’m not judging their character, just their appeal in a closed-in space. I promise, if my habits smelled like an old cigar, NO ONE would want to sit next to me. Ever. Would it matter if I had been pushed into a pile of manure or I had jumped in gleefully? Coming out, I’m going to smell like . . . well, you know what I’m going smell like, and you’re NOT going to want to hug me until I wash at least some of it off!
Old fogeys take a lot of heat for judging the younger generation for the way they dress and groom themselves, but hang on, here. Are you telling me that those same teenagers don’t take one look at grandpa’s knobby knees sticking out from his plaid shorts, and the socks he’s wearing with his favorite sandals, and make a judgment about the character and personality of the old coot? Yeah, admit it . . . we’re all guilty on one level or another!
One of the most amazing women I ever knew had a face that looked like a shriveled walnut. I’m not exaggerating. You know that face from the anti-smoking campaign, the wrinkly, leathery looking one? That’s a younger, dewy-skinned version of my friend. It wasn’t damage from over exposure to the sun; it was just the way she was. She was also the most compassionate, most endearing, most hilarious woman I’ve ever known. She renovated her kitchen and sent out obituary notices to her neighbors announcing the passing of the old kitchen and inviting them to come and celebrate its well-worn life and the beauty of her sparkling new one. She shared with me her top-secret recipe for elephant stew which, as I have never seen here, I will proceed to share at the end of this post.
My point is, we limit ourselves when we judge by appearance’s sake, and we need to be honest with ourselves. We do it – for good and for ill – based on our past history and personal preferences. I think we can forgive each other for that, even when we’re mistaken. It is when we refuse to budge from our initial impression when faced with a persuasive body of evidence to the contrary of our original opinion that we are truly in the wrong.
And the recipe?
Elephant Stew (from the kitchen of Mary Olson):
1 medium-sized elephant, cut into bite-sized pieces
500 lbs diced vegetables, as desired (i.e., onions, potatoes, carrots, rutabagas)
500 gallons brown gravy, seasoned to taste
2 rabbits, brown or white, as you like
Mix first three ingredients in a very large pot over a medium flame. Bring to a boil, reduce flame and simmer for about three days, or until elephant is tender. Add rabbits shortly before serving, but use caution. Some people don’t care for hare in their stew.
Don’t tell me you don’t do it – it’s not even always a negative thing. Why do we always presume that if we’re judging someone, we’re judging negatively? We see an adorable child, clean and scrubbed, with shining hair and wearing a smart little outfit and we immediately burst into throes of, “Oh, isn’t he/she just the cutest thing?” How is that offensive? Nor is the judgment necessarily correct. That same child might just punch you in the back the minute you turn around. Been there. Done that. Not a nice kid.
Truthfully, if the person sitting next to me in a crowded bus reeks of old alcohol and stale cigarette smoke, I’m not happy sitting next to them. I’m not judging their character, just their appeal in a closed-in space. I promise, if my habits smelled like an old cigar, NO ONE would want to sit next to me. Ever. Would it matter if I had been pushed into a pile of manure or I had jumped in gleefully? Coming out, I’m going to smell like . . . well, you know what I’m going smell like, and you’re NOT going to want to hug me until I wash at least some of it off!
Old fogeys take a lot of heat for judging the younger generation for the way they dress and groom themselves, but hang on, here. Are you telling me that those same teenagers don’t take one look at grandpa’s knobby knees sticking out from his plaid shorts, and the socks he’s wearing with his favorite sandals, and make a judgment about the character and personality of the old coot? Yeah, admit it . . . we’re all guilty on one level or another!
One of the most amazing women I ever knew had a face that looked like a shriveled walnut. I’m not exaggerating. You know that face from the anti-smoking campaign, the wrinkly, leathery looking one? That’s a younger, dewy-skinned version of my friend. It wasn’t damage from over exposure to the sun; it was just the way she was. She was also the most compassionate, most endearing, most hilarious woman I’ve ever known. She renovated her kitchen and sent out obituary notices to her neighbors announcing the passing of the old kitchen and inviting them to come and celebrate its well-worn life and the beauty of her sparkling new one. She shared with me her top-secret recipe for elephant stew which, as I have never seen here, I will proceed to share at the end of this post.
My point is, we limit ourselves when we judge by appearance’s sake, and we need to be honest with ourselves. We do it – for good and for ill – based on our past history and personal preferences. I think we can forgive each other for that, even when we’re mistaken. It is when we refuse to budge from our initial impression when faced with a persuasive body of evidence to the contrary of our original opinion that we are truly in the wrong.
And the recipe?
Elephant Stew (from the kitchen of Mary Olson):
1 medium-sized elephant, cut into bite-sized pieces
500 lbs diced vegetables, as desired (i.e., onions, potatoes, carrots, rutabagas)
500 gallons brown gravy, seasoned to taste
2 rabbits, brown or white, as you like
Mix first three ingredients in a very large pot over a medium flame. Bring to a boil, reduce flame and simmer for about three days, or until elephant is tender. Add rabbits shortly before serving, but use caution. Some people don’t care for hare in their stew.
I have a student this year who rarely bathes, never has her hair combed, and NEVER brushes her teeth. Now, she is 6 years old so I often blame her mother for her lack of hygiene. I've sent notes and made phone calls to little avail. Mom came in for a conference...she did not have her hair combed nor her teeth brushed and she could definitely have used a bath. Hmmmmmm. I wonder who needs more help? Mom, daughter, or teacher? -- I'm going to cook some elephant stew and share it. Hope it works.
ReplyDeleteI was there when you got punched in the back! I was there! I saw it happen! Oh my goodness, I literally just laughed out loud. Hard. That is one of my favorite memories of you ever.
ReplyDelete