The Progressive Sanctification of Taste-Buds

Random Musings - PART 1

Is it possible that the accuracy of our taste-buds is enhanced over time? Here's why I ask: Have you ever stood behind an elderly woman at the deli counter?

"Now...the maple-roasted turkey - exactly what kind of maple syrup is used in that?"

IMPLICATION: "I WILL be able to distinguish the quality and character of the syrup used!"

So, is this a superpower? Perhaps not, but there are some telling evidences that may lend credence to it. Here are three:

1) The diversification of a palette as one grows and matures (i.e. I hated broccoli as a kid and now I love it). Adults don't typically eat mashed carrots from Gerber foods.

2) At some point - usually post-college - the priority shifts from QUANTITY (i.e. heaps of inexpensive preservative-laden cuisines such as pizza, mac-n-cheese, and Ramen noodles) to QUALITY (i.e. pre-determined portions of fresh vegetables, fine cuts of meat, natural grains). "But doesn't this have much to do with one's life chapter and socioeconomic status," you ask. Yes. But I would contend that there are plenty of trust fund snobs, living in the condo that daddy bought for their undergrad, who are eating Totino's pizza rolls tonight.

3) Chefs - most are on the other side of middle age. There's no culinary Mozart - no renowned child prodigy of nutrition - no food critique that isn't capable of DRIVING to the opening of the latest, greatest eatery.

Of course the "taste of food" could simply be a value that increases over time :)

Why the 80's matter

I'm not sure exactly why I'm still drawn to 80's movies, I just know that I am. The music, the simple but fun-loving plot-lines, the recurring nostalgia - maybe its a combination of factors. The other night, I forced Ashley to sit through the majority of "Sixteen Candles" - Molly Ringwald, Anthony Michael Hall, Jake "the hottie". It's not that Ashley didn't enjoy it, but 'enjoy' is so subjective with someone who genuinely fancies life. She'd much rather tune into House Hunters, or Nine By Design, or any other exceptionally lame but potentially addictive piece of programming birthed by HGTV.

This frustrates me for a litany of reasons, but perhaps the one that stands out from the rest is the lack of imagination it takes to enter into these home improvement, home renovation, home design realities. The characters are so normal. They're your friends, your co-workers, your neighbors. They wear khakis, and drive Camry's, and talk about budgets. They're anything but eccentric. The only thing that really distinguishes them is that they're joined by some television personality - fresh from the make-up, the hair, the wardrobe trailer - who once worked at a Lowe's or at Pier One Imports before they were 'discovered', which gives them loads of credibility and makes them an ideal fit to host the program. And all of a sudden, everybody's so excited about the new color scheme, the accented throw pillows, the Artesian-influenced backsplash. Well not me. I know how this ends up, I've seen it before, the story-line never changes.

I want to be inspired: to feel nervous about Donald Miller's attempt to be cool ("Can't Buy Me Love" - 1987), to sing along to Maverick and Goose's rendition of You've Lost that Loving Feeling ("Top Gun" - 1986), to joyfully exhale when George McFly's fist connects with Biff's chin, thus changing the course of history ("Back to the Future"- 1985). I want to be inspired and I honestly believe that everyone else should want to be too.

Of course, I've made this mistake before - projecting my affinity for skinny ties, pegged jeans, and the Brat Pack on people who either don't share the same sentiments, or are entirely indifferent. During one summer in college, my buddy and I decided that a few girls we knew, desperately needed to experience the cinematic genius of "The Karate Kid". "How could they have never been exposed to Danielson, Miaggi, and the Cobra Kai?" Surely our little gathering would open eyes, make memories, create fans. Only it didn't. Our fail-safe plan somehow bombed. The girls smiled, laughed, thanked us for the evening. But it was undoubtedly forced - sympathetic charity at best. And it took us all a while to recover. Things got a bit awkward for a minute. How are people supposed to respond when you talk something up as life-changing - and then it doesn't change their lives?

The harsh reality in all of this, is that you can't always cast your passion upon others. Sometimes it just doesn't take, even when it should.

Live on Jeff Spicoli - Live on Duckie Dale - Live on Ferris!