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Pastimes : 100 Acre Wood -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Lost1 who wrote (2077)	7/16/2002 1:18:30 PM
From: Lost1	Respond to of 3287

Vegheads, we know your secret By John Kelso AMERICAN-STATESMAN STAFF Tuesday, July 16, 2002 Are you a vegetarian, or are you just faking it? That's the question that comes to mind after reading a cover article in Time magazine that talks about the growing number of Americans -- right at 10 million, according to Time -- who call themselves vegetarians. The trouble is that many of them are frauds. A survey of 11,000 people revealed that 37 percent of those who said they were vegetarians added that they had eaten red meat in the past 24 hours. I've got news for you people: Having a side order of onion rings with your T-bone doesn't make you a vegetarian. Then there were the splinter group vegetarians that Time mentioned, the fudgers, the cheaters, what I refer to as the Wheatsville wannabes: the ovo-lacto-vegetarians, who eat vegetables, dairy products and eggs, or chickens-to-be; the pesco-vegetarians, who eat fish along with their shrubbery; and the pollo-vegetarians, who eat chicken with their veggies. Imagine how depressed the chickens will be when they find out they're plants. Here's my theory: Many people say they're vegetarians because it sounds righteous. So you get a load of pretenders. It's like people who ride Hondas and claim to be bikers. There probably aren't but about three real vegetarians in the entire country. And right now, one of them is sneaking a chicken-fried steak. The truth is, other classifications of eaters make up a much bigger percentage of the American dining scene than the vegheads. And here they are. Which one are you? Toyotarian: Never has time to eat at home, so commonly juggles lunch on dashboard and ends up with telltale mustard stains on pants. Seat of car is buried under Burger King bags, along with a year's supply of those tiny single-serving ketchup packets you can't open unless you use your teeth. Driveupwindowarian: Many moons have gone dark in the sky since the driveupwindowarian has placed a food order face to face with an actual human being. The words, "My name is Jason; I'll be your waiter this evening," are never heard by the driveupwindowarian, who can't recognize an item as edible unless it is accompanied by a full-color picture displayed on a polyurethane sign. Freesamplearian: This high-end species roams the aisles of Central Market, feeding himself at no cost by grazing on complimentary samples of clam chowder, roast pork, brie and chips and salsa offered by the store. For dessert, the free- samplearian loads up on pistachios and jelly beans in the bulk section. Lactochugalugarian: Constantly in trouble at home with family members for taking a slug out of the milk jug in the refrigerator, the lactochugalugarian is too lazy to pour the milk in a glass before sucking it down. Fatlitearian: The fatlitearian survives on a bogus weight loss program that includes, say, a large pile of salad bar spinach covered with a quarter-inch of grated cheese and an ample dusting of bacon bits. The fatlitearian tries to become trim by enjoying his double-meat cheeseburger with a diet Pepsi. John Kelso's humor column appears on Sundays, Tuesdays and Fridays. Contact him at 445-3606 or jkelso@statesman.com.