Anthropomorphic...say what?

This was originally going to be a happy post about the nonsense of the past week. Then, Cabo Bob's happened...for like the 12th time this week. Well, it wasn't exactly Cabo Bob's fault. Best. Burrito. Ever.

Sitting next to me was a country music magazine (which will remain nameless), which I stupidly opened. It contained an article entitled "Who Defines Humane Treatment of Farm Animals". I was intrigued...I mean, what light might this magazine littered with Beef Jerky and Meat Market ads (no, really, this is Texas y'all) have to shed on this subject? I should point out again, that I am not typically a soap-box vegan...in fact most of the people who know I'm vegan found out from someone else. However, I occasionally run across something so ridiculous that I cannot help but believe every carnivore and herbivore alike would find it nonsensical. Here me out people. My comments are in blue. Here is the article:

"The Texas Agrilife Extension Service
of Randall County will offer a three-part
a proposal in the U.S. House would take
production agriculture standards out of
the hands of professionals and turn them
over to bureaucrats. That’s what I find
worrisome about new animal welfare
legislation by two U.S. Representatives
from the Left Coast."

The use of the word "professionals" amuses me.

"Hr 4733, the Prevention of Farm
Cruelty Act, was introduced recently by
reps. Diane Watson and Elton Gallegly,
both from California. (The bill) If passed, the bill
would prohibit the government from
purchasing animal products that are not
“humanely” produced for school lunch and
other federal programs.
So who defines “humane?” that’s the
problem. My friend and coworker Ken
Hodges, who is an Associate Legislative
Director for the Texas Farm Bureau, says
the bill would mandate arbitrary humane
animal production standards. By arbitrary
he means standards developed without
input from veterinarians or animal
producers. As Ken so aptly says, when we start
having somebody who doesn’t understand
animals deciding what is or isn’t animal
cruelty, we have real problems.

Folks, we have real problems. "

Is he saying that only veterinarians and "animal producers" are capable of knowing whether or not an animal is being treated humanely, or even understanding animals for that matter? If so, anyone other than a veterinarian or "animal producer" should not even be allowed to have a pet or be around animals for that matter...I mean the rest of us are complete bumbling idiots when it comes to knowing that an animal probably needs to eat on a regular basis and does not like it when you pet their fur in the wrong direction. Thankfully, we have these animal specialists to tell us how to treat our furry companions. And, where would we be without this co-worker and dear friend's opinion? I'm sure as part of the Texas Farm Bureau he has nothing to lose if this bill gets passed, and only cares about welfare of the animals. Oh, wait, never mind.

And, just so we're clear the minimum requirement outlined in the bill, is that the animals specific to this bill (only egg laying chickens, veal calves and pregnant pigs) are able to stand up, lie down, turn around and fully extended all limbs. How unreasonable! And you meat factories get exceptions, like slaughtering so just slow your roll.

"The legislation — which resembles
doctrine espoused by the Humane Society
of the United States (HSUS) and other
animal rights groups — is based on the
presumption that farm animals are not
routinely treated humanely. A few years ago that line of thinking
would have been ridiculed. A decade
of relentless propaganda, however, has
changed public perceptions."

"Propaganda"? Seems the pot is calling the kettle black here. Considering this person neglects some very important details of the bill.

"A consumer
suspicious of the way you care for your
livestock is the new reality. "

How dare we ask where our food comes from! Who do we think we are?!

"The issue is not intentional cruelty,
although those rare cases are highly
publicized."

Of course that's not the issue. I mean I've heard calves don't even like to walk around, really.

"Under the microscope are
practices that the public has been told are
cruel, and now believe — practices such
as battery cages, gestation stalls and most
other confinement practices."

Stupid animals...that's like the animal version of The Four Seasons. Are we really expected to believe that things like "battery cages" are not inhumane? REALLY?

"As a defense, agriculture points to
painstaking animal welfare standards —
proper veterinary care, fresh water, clean
animal feed, etc. from birth to harvest —
which have been developed through years
of research by scientists and producers for
every species of livestock."

I'm glad we have our trusty scientists, you know the ones who test on animals. Oh most of them don't believe that animals have feelings, and call those of us who do anthropomorphics...what a bunch of ignorant perverts we are.

"Those standards
by and large have been developed to
maintain healthy animals. and we can
argue until the cows come home that
healthy livestock are happy livestock. "

Yes, as long as an animal is "healthy" why should he need sunlight, or fresh air let alone an area to move around in? Greedy little pigs. Maybe we should have this fine young man live in his bathtub...don't worry, we'll keep him healthy. He'll be all smiles, I promise.

"But reactive thinking isn’t cutting it
anymore. The industry needs to get out
of its defensive posture and get ahead of
this animal welfare issue. We are never
going to satisfy PETA and HSUS, and
shouldn’t even try. But we can throw a
barrier between them and the American
consumer.
Is an “ethical standard of care” for
livestock the answer? Should producers
and researchers define animal welfare, and
point to those standards when accused of
doing wrong? If so, how far do we go and
how do we implement it? And would it
help? "

This article could've been one man's opinion. Instead, it's all just twisted facts, being thrown out there by a man who is concerned that somebody will make him stop eating meat, or hurt his friends lucrative career as an "Associate Legislative Director for the Texas Farm Bureau". Or, maybe he got a giggle picturing Joe Redneck's fist pumping, "hell, yeah" response to the article while wearing this hat. I know I did.

Port A...potty

Port Aransas or bust!

My hubby knows how much I love me a good beach. That being said, I am willing to settle for a Texas beach if need be. He booked a gig in lovely Port Aransas, or Port A as the locals call it. So, we packed up the car with music equipment, the video camera, clothes and of course a cooler of food. (Any smart vegan always travels with a little food, duh.) In the week prior to our little escapade I spent a lot of time on the Internet researching places to eat, and once again came up with Subway and only Subway. Uf. So I packed up the usuals...muesli, bread, Tofurkey, hemp milk* (that's right), and Morning Star RIBLETS (aka God's gift to vegans). I put on my Toms and zzzziiiipppp we were out the door.

We always have to make at least one pit stop on our trips out to East Jesus Nowhere, sometimes because we both have to pee, or sometimes because of the always fun game of gas tank roulette my sweet someone likes to play. Gas stations are where most of the fun happens. Small town gas stations are exceptionally awesome. There's always a woman behind the counter. ALWAYS. She will stare at us, because despite our distressed jeans, and smelling like hippies, we are still "city folk". She will have blond hair with roots, yellow teeth, pink lipstick and a red shirt. ALWAYS. I can never see what is happening on the lower half of her body, but am assuming it's chock full o' hairy legs, hot pink toes and an ankle tattoo of a rose. In the gas station you will always find classy souvenirs perfect for the equally classy Nascar fan in your life. This particular gas station was full of AWESOME bumper stickers, such as one with a pit bull that said"If it ain't a pit, it ain't shit", "Cowboys think they got it, but rednecks know they do", or my personal favorite "Ditch the bitch and lets go huntin'" My magical bliss was interrupted by the hubby trying to get my attention to leave. It seems I had been pulled into a white trash tractor beam and was left completely paralyzed and speechless by the stickers.

Here we go again, back on the road. 1 hour to go, then I hear my very pure-mouthed husband issue an expletive....or two. Annnnddddd here come the coppers! Fortunately, we had a very nice policeman who wrote us a very expensive ticket, but gave us a quicker way to our destination. We took it. It was scary. Back road, after dark, middle of nowhere. Bastard. I suspected he had a friend waiting in the next town, and I was right, but his little friend had some other sucker already.

We finally made it to Port A just around midnight. Boy are we tired! Our room was free. It was behind the laundry room. The bathroom had no door, so technically we didn't break our "no open door" policy. My bathroom became the pool side bathroom, right then and there. So, great! We got to stay in a one bedroom TWO bathroom suite....behind the laundry room. I was assured by the Mr. there would be a refrigerator and microwave there and he did not need to call and ask...hmmmm. Shame on me for believing him. What an idiot I am. My poor riblets sat in mostly melted ice all weekend and pined for me, and I them....and I them. We laid down to sleep, and somehow my love fell asleep immediately...not even a hint of guilt over the refrigerator/microwave situation. I however, did not sleep well due to many factors. Grande coffee (idiot), beach excitement (child), and a pillow that threw my cervical spine (not as sexy as it sounds) into all sorts of weird positions (old person).

Next day, up and at 'em! Yes, I'm a morning person. The only thing worse than a vegan is a vegan who is a morning person, I know. We got some coffee, had some muesli, put on the bathing suits (gross), sunscreen and headed to the beach. It was wicked crowded, due to Sandfest, which we had no idea about beforehand. I just wanted a beach nap. Or any nap. But strange hairy man wouldn't stop crunching his water bottle behind me in the sand. And I was all sorts of worked up over Mr. and Mrs. Let's-Force-Our-Puppy-Into-the-Water-Even-Though He's Scared. If they hadn't each been twice our size (not in the "we're really built kind of way") I would've opened my fat Irish mouth and said something. Giving up on the nap, we took a walk, which made us both crazy hungry.

On the walk back to the hotel we passed a little restaurant called Shells, where they made us a spinach fettuccine pasta, with lots of yummy veggies. We had an olive sampler thingy as an appetizer, it was also delish! We make plans to go back to the hotel pool, read, drink mimosas and chill the eff out. *Ring* The venue/hotel owner calls Linc and asks us if we want to drive to Sandfest and get a tour of the town. I confess, I did not want to. I had a wicked case of nap head, WICKED! Alas, my beloved is the sweetest person ever and cannot say 'no'. Off we go. It turns out I was glad we went, we saw some pretty amazing things. This very kind man graciously toted around one "normal" person and one girl with dark sunglasses suffering from a lack-of-sleep hangover...those are the worst. After Sandfest he took us to The Back Porch, a local bar on the pier. I had sangria, which at this point, sitting in the sea air, started to look more like a comfy pillow than a drink to me. As it turns out, the town is way cooler than South Padre, it's closer and the beaches are just as nice...again, for Texas y'all.

After drinks we headed back to the hotel for a quick shower/wardrobe change for the gig. The gig went great. My Mr. sold some CD's, made some friends, etc., etc., etc. Then we packed up the gear, headed to the room and CRASHED! The rest of the people stayed out until 3am...HOW do people 10 years my senior do this?! I almost started crying at the thought of going back out. These same people were out and about before I had even had coffee the next morning. What. The. Poop.

Heading home is far less interesting than the trip there. We drove through Corpus Christi, which I'm certain was unsafe seeing as how we did not have hazmat suits on, (knew I forgot something). We got lost in San Antonio searching for a vegetarian restaurant. Before we found it moods were in the potty, as were our surroundings in the outskirts of San An. Then we found it! The sky opened, and the angels sang. Green Cuisine is the bomb diggity bomb bomb bomb! It's the only all vegetarian (mostly vegan) restaurant in San Antonio. It's in a building that was bakery in the 1800s (so I was already stoked). Plus, I got to use the bathroom in what used to be a brick oven...I peed quickly, just in case. I had the most yummy chicken fried "steak", mashed potatoes (WITH gravy, yo), and kale. Mr. Tofu had mushroom stroganoff, and the collard greens. The service was off the charts, much like my old love Spiral Diner in Dallas....sigh. I felt refreshed and gloriously fat after that big meal, and am considering a Saturday spent in good ol' San An, just for more tastiness.

We made it to Spicewood in the nick of time for Linc's gig at Poodies. High-tailed it out of there as soon as he was done. And, by 7:30pm, I had my precious and elusive riblets in my tummy, and was settled in with some original Clash of the Titans. :)

*Hemp milk is not for beginners. :) If you're feeling frisky, I suggest starting with a vanilla variety. One of the benefits is that you digest 100% of hemp milk, unlike it's soy friend.

This Vegan Life

Here goes nothin'! I'm starting this blog because of the high-demand out there for vegan* bloggers. I mean come on, everyone wants to hear what vegans have to say, right? Wrong! For the record I'm not a self-righteous, force-my-opinions-on-you-meat-and-dairy-eaters kind of vegan. I'm the one who wants to do something that makes me feel better physically and mentally...you guys can do what you want with your bodies, that's why they're yours. So if you're happy with meat rotting in your colons, who am I to judge? KIDDING!

I live in Texas and am married to my very best friend, who happens to be an up-and-coming Americana/Roots Musician and a vegan as well. He will try to tell you I forced this vegan way of life on him, but don't let him, he's a big fat (err, skinny) liar. Traveling as a vegan is always a challenge, but is especially so in a music genre full of venues made up of bar-b-que and hamburger type joints, dance halls, folk festivals and the like. Did I mention we're in Texas too? That bumps that challenge up about 22 zillion times. But, if there's one thing I've discovered, it's that a hungry vegan will find food anywhere. Contrary to popular belief, vegans love to eat, or at least these two do. Unfortunately, there are not nearly enough resources out there for the traveling vegan. I hope to give you vegetarians and vegans some useful tips, and all the while provide the meat-heads out there a good laugh at my expense. Enjoy.


*For those of you who don't know, a vegan is a strict vegetarian. That means we don't eat any meat (yes, that includes fish and chicken, they are meat too, weird), or anything that comes from an animal/ insect, i.e. milk, eggs, cheese, honey. Not as hard as it sounds, trust me. And, for the record I'm not starving, but thank you for the concern.