There's Always Room for Jello

Today I ate orange Jello for lunch. It was from the school cafeteria. It had little sad bits of fruit cocktail hanging around in it. It was not a color that exists in nature, except perhaps in certain select volcanoes.

And this got me thinking: How hungry does a person have to be before he says to himself (and I say he because I don't think any woman has ever been this hungry), "I'm feeling a little peckish. You know, I think I'll take these bits of bovine cartilage and boil them down until they make a goo, then I'll eat that. Yes. Bovine goo. That is the answer to all my problems."

The thing is, it caught on. Then somebody said, "You know, we can take this bovine goo and add artificial flavors to make it fruity. Then we can add artificial colors to make it appear appetizing in a nuclear kind of way. People will love that. They will totally buy it."

And we did. Then we started coming up with all kinds of other crap to put in the goo. Sad little bits of fruit cocktail. Other goos, like mayonnaise. Nuts. Berries. Bits of tree bark. Booze, of course. Whatever. Anything goes with Jello.

I have similar thoughts about other stuff to eat. How hungry was the person who ate the first lobster? Who decided mold in cheese made it more desirable? What was the thought process driving fried butter?

Clearly I'm not going to get any sleep tonight.