One of the most disturbing memories I have is when I was about 5 years old in east Tennessee. While visiting my cousins we traveled up the dirt road to see THEIR cousins who were very used to a backwoods lifestyle. One of the little boys showed me a shed where they were "smokin' 'possums."
Upon opening the door a dozen or so skinned opposums hung from their tails while a harsh, smokey smell billowed out from the door. The trauma to my young mind has transformed this into the highest form of hyperbole so that in my mind I saw this:
Tangent--When I was seven my dad once forced me to drink the milk from my cereal bowl. He didn't want me to waste it. Now, I'd probably done this a hundred times before, but this particular time I didn't feel like it.
I can't remember the cereal, but I remember feeling the little, soggy chunks going down my throat and and felt like puking through the tears. To this day, the thought of drinking cereal milk nearly makes me vomit--end tangent.
Secondary tangent--There are no soggy cereal picture on the internet! That's in-freaking-credible.End Tangent
Two things happened after seeing, what I now refer to as, Satan's Gerbil Cage. First, Opposums exceeded Sharks as my most frightening animal (and the margin is not small), and I vowed I would never eat a dead animal.
Silly me. What a crappy life that would have been.
Years later I found out that KFC serves Dead Chickens! Luckily, the secret recipe of the 11 herbs and spices pays respects to the dead bird in the same way the wise men brought frankencense and myrrh were used to pay respects to baby jesus.
Understandably, there is some debate as two whether "chickens" are actually killed at all. Some believe that the Chicken Farmers raise chickens or grow a cyborg hybrid much like humans in The Matrix.
The idea of consuming a dead animal can convert many to Crunchies (vegetarians) and the brutality of tearing Big Bird's flesh with your teeth is often used to convert T-Rex's (meat-eaters/men) to vegetarianism.
My young son's Crunchie mother (recalling my Satan's Gerbil Cage story, no doubt) tried to scare him by telling him that the steak she had made for me was actually dead cow. Curiosity won out and he tried it anyway.
As I drove home that night, I wondered if my son would experience the trauma that I had as a child. Would he fear the cow above all of God's creations?
I opened the door, and the silence seemed to confirm the worst. Then he came running to the door...
"Daddy! Daddy! I ate dead cow and I loved it!"
Crisis averted.
