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Vegans Over the Edge… Yet Again: Class Action Lawsuit Against Burger King for Using Same Grill as Normal Burgers. Paging Captain Obvious, Please Call the Office

Trigger (heh) warning:  This post will be somewhat of a hit piece on a specific, small, yet exceedingly loud portion of the vegan/vegetarian population.  Not quite what would come out of the New York Times if it pertained to President Trump, because at least this will be truthful, but I’m going to be pretty blunt, as my disclaimer to the left explains.  I’m not, in any way, shape, form, or manner, trying to say all vegans and/or vegetarians are bad, mean-spirited, ignoramuses… just that a very specific cult of that small group is.  You have been trigger (heh) warned.

My wife has a vegetarian friend who once complained that my grill had meat cooked on it at one time, so she’d prefer it if I didn’t grill her veggie burger on that same grill…  I did figure a way around that for her, though.  I steam cleaned that side of the grill to her liking, applied some oil to keep her burger from sticking, and grilled her veggie burger.  I did this because I love my wife, and her friend is pretty cool about the whole thing, anyway.  Now, if she were like some people…

When Burger King came out with their Impossible Whopper, however, I had a feeling a complaint wasn’t too far off because there’s no way Burger King was going to appease the vegan nutter base.  What’s it been?  Three months and some change.  One way or another, someone was going to go all apoplectic.  I should have published something to show what a genius I am… and what a loser the vegan who would eventually sue Burger King is:

The lawsuit alleges that if he had known the burger would be cooked in such a manner, he would have not purchased it.
The Burger King that Williams visited did not have signage at the drive-thru indicating that the plant-based burger would be cooked on the same grill as meat, the suit says.

Paging Captain Obvious, please call the office.

What did this knucklehead think, Burger King would install another grill to grill their Impossible Whopper?  The guy, if he thought that, is impossibly stupid.  He obviously has never looked beyond the cash counter to see how little room there is in the back of a Burger King – there’s certainly no room for another broiler!

Where this, and so many sordid stories like it, runs afoul of decency is when nutters try to impose their idiosyncrasies on the rest of civilization.  It’s not Burger King’s job to anticipate and prepare for every nut who walks into a Burger King.  If Phillip Williams has a problem with his veggie burger being cooked on the same grill as a normal burger, perhaps he should be wearing signage stating that his beliefs run counter to popular norms and he prefers his burgers to be prepared a special way… this way the employees can simply nuke his Impossible Whopper (I’d bet that’s BK’s “non-broiler method of preparation”) and be done with it:

“For guests looking for a meat-free option, a non-broiler method of preparation is available upon request,” the site notes.

This can be put in simple terms, folks; if you require your food to be prepared in a special way, not in the norm, and obviously Phillip Williams knows he does, then it’s his responsibility to make sure his needs are met, not someone else’s.

Better, in a sane world the court would make the complainant prove his/her/their Impossible Whopper actually did get beef on it from being cooked on the same grill.  What most people don’t know about Burger King broilers (that I happen to), is that the grill is a based on a conveyor belt system, about 2-1/2 feet wide by, maybe five feet long (if memory serves), so the grill actually goes through the fire a second time which gives any meat that might be stuck to the links time to cook off.  Thinking back on teenage days at BK, more than three decades ago, I can’t remember ever seeing any buildup on the conveyor, certainly not like one would see on their home grill, and certainly not in amounts that would lead to meat clinging to the conveyor so it could then be transferred to someone’s Impossible Whopper – the claim this could happen seems shady to me.

Anyway, insufferable people are insufferable.  Paging Captain Obvious.  Again.

Heh…

Trump-Pence

The Bittersweet Embrace of Falling Back to Normal Time After Daylight Savings Time for a Northern Cyclist

The first Monday after the time change can be bittersweet.  If it’s nasty and cold outside, I’ve got an excuse to ride the trainer because it’ll be dark out shortly after I get home.  On the other hand, when it’s reasonable out, it’s a bit of a bummer because I have to think about dodging traffic in the dark – not a favorite of mine.  Better, I can always take the gravel bike out for a spin – I’ve got dirt just a quarter-mile from my house… Unfortunately, this is our rainy season, too, so the dirt roads will likely be mush.

Last Sunday’s 30-miler was a muck fest (though fun, for sure).  Had it been a dry Monday, I could have thrown the lights on the gravel bike and gone out for a ride in the dark.  I suppose, if I really wanted the outdoor miles, I could ride the paved roads, but I’m not all that trusting of my fellow motorists – even when I am lit up like a Christmas tree… and believe me, I ride bright when I ride at night.

In reality, this is the beginning of the end.  I’ll still get out on the weekends, of course, and I’ll still put my time in on the trainer.  But the mileage drops precipitously from here on out, though.  It’ll be four-ish months before we start seeing some decent outdoor mileage again.

So, the bitter part is that I’ll be indoors a lot more than I like.  The sweet is that life simplifies over the next few months.  With trainer miles increasing, the laundry decreases, and the time needed to get ready and on the bike is cut by 15-20 minutes.

I wrote a post a while back that highlighted a difference of opinion between The Farmers Almanac and NOAA… TFA said it was going to be a cold, nasty, snowy winter.  NOAA said it was going to be mild by normal standards.  We’re in the process of digging out of 8″ of snow.  A record for this time of year. It’s been 10-25° colder than normal for the last two weeks and tomorrow we’re going to breaking all known records for cold.  We’re currently 35° below the normal high for this time of year.  We’ll be 26° shy when we hit our high for the day.

In my post, I said I was betting on The Farmers Almanac over the eggheads at NOAA.  Heh.

The only question remaining is whether or not I’ll be able to get my last 52 miles to pass 6,000 outdoor miles for the year…  It’s not looking good, but with more than a month and a half, we can’t have that much cold and snow before the new year rolls around.  I hope.

Day 259 Days of Recovery from Procrastination

https://wp.me/pawnzJ-6b

I’ve never seen anyone drink their way to happiness…

Or, as the linked post explains, I’ve never seen anyone procrastinate themselves into happiness.

Never thought of it quite so simply, but it sure does work.  Please take a moment and check the linked post out.

“Treating Boys Like Defective Girls” in School; Boys Need More Time in Motion, Study (FINALLY) Finds.

As a young boy, I did not sit still for long.  I’m tempted to use the word “couldn’t”.  In order to get me to eat, my mom would cut up a hot dog, put it on the plate on one end of the coffee table in the living room and let me do laps, eating a piece every lap or two.  When I went to school, they didn’t know how to handle my rambunctiousness so I was held back a year.  School was an environment that would only let me move a half-hour a day during school.  I went from hot (dog) laps to sitting still all day.

My story began more than four decades ago – and the prescription for me wasn’t “keep him moving”, it was “give him Ritalin” to get me compliant.  My mom refused and worked with me all through school to help me conform to a world that wouldn’t let me move.  I was told, from four-years-old, that it was me.  That I was the problem.

Researchers at the University of Eastern Finland recently tried to document whether boys actually achieve less in school when they’re restricted from running around and being physically active.

They studied 153 kids, aged 6 to 8, and tracked how much physical activity and sedentary time they had during the day. Sure enough, according to a report by Belinda Luscombe in Time, the less “moderate to vigorous physical activity” the boys had each day, the harder it was for them to develop good reading skills:

The more time kids … spent sitting and the less time they spent being physically active, the fewer gains they made in reading in the two following years. [It] also had a negative impact on their ability to do math.

Now here’s the best part – and this is what really fries my bacon:

The results didn’t apply to girls. I know that sounds sexist; the researchers offered a few possible explanations. Maybe there simply are physiological differences—or maybe the girls were just as eager to move around as the boys, but they were better able to set aside that disappointment and concentrate.

And for that reason, other researchers say, girls are rewarded more than boys in the classroom.

“Girl behavior is the gold standard in schools,” says psychologist Michael Thompson. “Boys are treated like defective girls.”

The emphasis above is mine.  What is sexist is expecting boys to behave like girls and treating them as “defective girls” in school if they act according to their nature.  Now, I’m sure all of the open-minded people out there who have the delusion that sexism only works one way will complain that what the study found is not right – maybe the sample size wasn’t big enough so more study is needed, but I lived it.  I’m here to tell you, if you multiply this out over time, the ramifications are devastating.

And, according to the article linked above, it gets worse:  The punishment for being rambunctious is more time sitting still which compounds the problem, especially for boys, rather than fix it.  It appears as though there might be hope.  One school in Texas has implemented four recess periods into the school day…

Result? Students are “less fidgety and more focused,” one teacher said. They “listen more attentively, follow directions, and try to solve problems on their own instead of coming to the teacher to fix everything.”

Well imagine that.

A Special Note to My Recovering Friends Out There; We Interrupt the Regular Message…

My friends, this is going to be very short.  I fell asleep on the couch watching the World Series last night after fixing my wife’s rear brake (new housings, cable, the whole nine yards – expertly done, I might add).  All was good in my world as I drifted off to sleep.

I awoke with the Nationals in the lead and got up to head to bed.  I shut off the TV and noticed my wife sitting in the kitchen, so I went over to kiss her goodnight before heading to bed.  She was crying.  We got a gut punch of bad news last night. I can’t get into it right now, just know my wife and kids are just fine, but this one’s bad.  And it ties directly into my recovery, so I have one simple message for today.

I am a second chance recovered alcoholic.  Meaning, I was given a second chance by a judge.  He sentenced me to treatment rather than prison and while I didn’t plan on staying sober on day one, shoveling pig shit on a working recovery farm, hungover to beat the band, I became a small miracle in the first two weeks.  Delirium tremens is a bitch that way.

I asked God for a deal; if He helped me, I’d give recovery everything I had.

I’ve never slept so good.  I woke up the next day on a mission and I’ve never looked back (well, there was one glance over my shoulder but I didn’t relapse and I did survive).  After the aforementioned glance over my shoulder, I gave up everything tied to my use of drugs and alcohol.  Old friends, old places… gone.  I changed everything to stay on the right path.

I’ve written countless times about how good my life has become and I owe all of it to that bargain – and doing something with what came of it.

Recovery is a daily gift.  My life, every awesome moment (and every tough one, too) is another point in a great existence – a life of meaning, purpose, direction, and above all, fun.  I have more fun just being on the right side of the grass, pumping air that I ever dreamed possible as I dug that pitchfork into another pile of gnarly straw in that pig stall.  Just working on my wife’s brakes last night (betwixt cuss words) put a smile on my face…  I treat my gift with the respect it needs and deserves because there’s another side to me;  A dark side.

As much good as I’m capable of today, with a wrong turn, I’m capable of just as much bad – worse.  All it takes is a tiny decision to unravel everything.  One tiny thought, entertained would lead to my downfall and land me in the ground or in prison:  “I’ve been sober long enough I could control a drink or twelve.”

Entertaining that one thought is all it would take to let that thought take hold and undo everything. There’s two months, maybe, between that and a prison sentence.  Or, if I was lucky enough to stay out of prison, seven years and I’m dead from liver failure.  That’s it.  My best outcome if I drink is dead in seven years.

My happiness balances on that thin a margin.  One little thought, gnawing away at the foundation of my awesome life.

There, but for the Grace of God, go I…

Stay hungry, my friends.  Lest you get thirsty.

A Rare Moment in Climate History; The Farmer’s Almanac and NOAA Are At Odds. Let’s See Who’s Right

I always pay attention to the Farmer’s Almanac for the winter forecast.  They don’t rely on computer models, as NOAA does.  Observation along with old-school mathematical equations form the Farmer’s report.  My uncle Larry can even determine, with a fair bit of accuracy, the amount of snow we’ll get over the winter by how high off the ground a certain wasp nests.

This year, NASA’s NOAA has predicted a milder than average winter.  They won’t predict snowfall, which I find interesting.  Telling.

The Farmer’s Almanac, by contrast, is saying it’s going to be a nasty, cold, snow-filled winter for us in the Northern Midwest.

I’m intrigued to see who’s right.

Guess where I’m putting my money.