Tuesday, November 20, 2007

The Crispy Crunch of Victory

The time of year has now arrived during which I spend most hours of most days thinking about eating. It makes sense for me to be thinking about this on the eve of my favorite holiday: Thanksgiving, which I don't celebrate for the pillage and genocide but for the food, family, and football (easily my three favorite f words).

I don't want to be thinner," one of my friends said the other day. "I just want my friends to be fatter." This sounds a little anti-feminist at first blush (okay, at second blush, too...) but I understand the general sentiment. I certainly wish some of my friends enjoyed eating as much as I did. I often wonder if other people have wild fantasies that involve Northern Prairie chevre, rare filet mignon, lobster bisque soup, butterscotch cream pie, and caprese salad like I do.

But as a strength and conditioning coach once told my offensive lineman husband when he was struggling to get up to Big 12 size: "You've gotta eat to win." I'm not sure that the "eat to win" philosophy applies to twentysomething-year-old Web editors (or former offensive linemen who now work as construction managers) who mainly sit on their expanding butts all day, but Ben and I frequently tell each other, through stuffed mouths spraying out specks of pizza crust, "EHHHT TO WHHMM!" The good news is that we also both like to work out, so although we certainly aren't skinny we aren't approaching Mangino status. (Note: Perhaps we should aspire to attain Mangino status. I mean, it's probably not a coincidence that he's 10-0, if you know what I mean.)

Hey, we're eating to win over here. Don't hate.

So today I celebrate you, Thanksgiving, oh holiday for fat kids! Tomorrow I pull the three bags of cranberries out of my fridge and begin making the magic happen. Once I get to my mom and dad's house Thursday, I plan to set up my gravy I.V. so that it's ready in time for the Packers game. (The AHEM, NINE AND ONE Packers game...the Pack has been eating to win, too, it seems.) Then we're going to the in-laws' for pie. Pie, pie, pie. I'm not mad at pie.

I should probably also point out that there will be wine. Just saying.