T GAMBLE: I may die before the health food nuts, but I’ll die happier

Well, we are finally able to say goodbye to 2020. Now before you get too excited, remember it could be like getting rid of an ex. You think, “Thank God I’m through with that” before you stumble into the next one that makes the old one look like Mother Teresa.

I recently saw a meme that said it has been all downhill since they took toys out of cereal. There may be some truth to this. More importantly, as far as I am concerned, it went downhill when they took three-D baseball cards out of the cereal boxes. I would eat 40 boxes of whatever cereal had ‘em to get one Hank Aaron or Roberto Clemente card. Now, all I get is a lecture on the box about how few calories it has, how much protein it has, and how good it is for me. I don’t eat it because it is good for me. I eat for two reasons: because I am hungry and because I enjoy it.

As a rule of thumb, there are certain absolutes concerning eating. If someone says it tastes just like chicken, it doesn’t. If it did, people would be eating it instead of chicken. If you have to smother it in melted cheese, it would be much easier to just eat a bunch of melted cheese, because whatever is under the cheese is inedible. Less salt or no salt does not taste “just as good” and no, you will not acquire a taste for it, any more than you can acquire a taste for standing outside in shorts and a T-shirt in 35-degree weather. You may learn to tolerate it, but it will not be good.

Finally, there is no substitute for butter. End of story.

Yes, I know poor eating habits will end up killing me. Guess what: The folks who eat perfect food are also going to die. They may live longer than me, but Lord knows I don’t know why they will want to, eating tofu, granola bars and drinking unsweet tea. But that’s OK with me.

Back to toys. They have lost all adventure. We are now so safe, you can’t enjoy one darned thing. I grew up one second from death 24 hours a day and enjoyed it.

We need more toys like clackers. Clackers were, essentially, two hard balls on strings that you made swing together so they rhythmically and rapidly collided together. That was all well and good until they got out of rhythm, striking your knuckles, at which point you would crawl into a fetal position and pray to die, much like when you hit your shin bone on a truck’s extended ball hitch. Occasionally they would shatter, causing blindness just like B-B guns do. A small price to pay compared with annoying your parents by clacking right beside them until they screamed, “Get out of here with that thing right now!”

You can’t jump on a trampoline without being in a cocoon. You must wear a helmet to ride a bike. Forget even getting in the back of a pickup truck. I’m surprised metal horseshoes have not been banned. Then again, I’m not sure anyone plays horseshoes anymore. Swimming in the creek might expose you to toxins these days. My Lord, please help us all. I swam with fear of alligator snapping turtles and moccasins. I never knew anyone to die from either, but the thought kept you alert the whole time, I can assure you.

I’m not sure what 2021 holds for us all, but I suspect some folks better get tough. Playing Fortnight on a couch in air conditioning while eating a celery stick probably ain’t going to cut it. Mad Max was set in 2021, and I never saw him eating a protein bar. I plan to bring the new year in shooting a fireball and eating fried chicken and yeast rolls. But that’s just me. Whatever you do, here’s hoping it is an improvement over 2020.