With friends from away coming this weekend, my husband was eager to plan some fun activities that would say "Maine." The visitors live somewhere in the middle of the country like Indiana and have no ocean, so water will figure heavily in the proceedings. A high point for everyone but me is a four-hour fishing expedition aboard a chartered boat pushing off at the crack of dawn Saturday morning. I begged off, seeing as how I shy away from mass killings of a weaker species. It's a little quirk I have.
My husband, trying to get me to go along, informed me that they would not be keeping the fish; it would strictly be "catch and release." So what that means is that some little fishy who is happily swimming around in the sea on what is forecast to be a lovely Saturday will suddenly have a sharp hook from out of nowhere come piercing into his cheek, causing much bleeding and terror. Then, hanging from that hook, Little Fishy will be pulled out of the water and dropped onto a hard wooden deck where he will flop around for a few minutes, trying to breathe, while a group of giants pass him around and have pictures taken with him. Finally the hook will be removed and L.F. will be returned to the comforts of the deep, except now he's got a big gash inside his mouth for days. Nice.
After the fishing expedition, the visitors want to go eat lobster. Specifically, live lobsters that will be dropped into buckets of boiling water and then cracked into pieces for their flesh. (I don't eat lobster for the same reason I don't go fishing: I am not a murderess.)
So I was thinking about all this on my walk this morning, and while not going all the way to holier than thou, I did feel a tad superior that I don't kill creatures that are way smaller than me and way stupider too. Then I flashed on the fact that I eat sushi and tuna salad and halibut and hake and haddock and blackened grouper and red snapper and mahi mahi and swordfish and scallops and shrimp cocktail and mussels and anchovies and herring and crab cakes and realized that I am a big, fat hypocrite! Immediately after that thought I experienced severe heart palpitations and felt dizzy and faint enough to almost black out, so I stopped walking and leaned up against a tree and took one of the pills I carry for such situations owing to my unpredictable high blood pressure that strikes without warning.
And so, a vegetarian is born.
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| Sadly, trans-mermaid surgery is not covered by my insurance. |
After the fishing expedition, the visitors want to go eat lobster. Specifically, live lobsters that will be dropped into buckets of boiling water and then cracked into pieces for their flesh. (I don't eat lobster for the same reason I don't go fishing: I am not a murderess.)
So I was thinking about all this on my walk this morning, and while not going all the way to holier than thou, I did feel a tad superior that I don't kill creatures that are way smaller than me and way stupider too. Then I flashed on the fact that I eat sushi and tuna salad and halibut and hake and haddock and blackened grouper and red snapper and mahi mahi and swordfish and scallops and shrimp cocktail and mussels and anchovies and herring and crab cakes and realized that I am a big, fat hypocrite! Immediately after that thought I experienced severe heart palpitations and felt dizzy and faint enough to almost black out, so I stopped walking and leaned up against a tree and took one of the pills I carry for such situations owing to my unpredictable high blood pressure that strikes without warning.
And so, a vegetarian is born.
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