R.I.P. To The Carnivore In Me
(February 14, 1988 — Sometime in July 2015)
Story by Ernest Gonzales
My carnivorous side met a sweet, drought-tolerant and cruelty-free demise about two months ago. He was 27 years old. Born and raised in La Verne, Calif., my inner carnivore regularly feasted upon delicious, decadent doses of Double-Doubles from our neighborhood In-n-Out, potent punches of his favorite pepperoni and pineapple pizza from the iconic La Verne establishment, Warehouse Pizza, and well, everything else meat-tastic under the sun.
A few of his other favorite activities included scarfing down some fluffy chicken flautas — those things that look like taquitos, but are made with a flour tortilla instead of corn, and aren’t fried like a chip — and eating foot-long corn dogs at the Los Angeles County Fair. Speaking of the Fair, the tri-tip sandwiches were also a delicacy that tickled his inner stomach lining and increased the saliva production in his glands.
As an often-hungry individual, my carnivorous side would try anything. One time he saw tacos in my grandpa’s refrigerator only to find out they were lengua, or cow tongue. They were okay, the texture was softer, more tender than other beef, but the point wasn’t the oddity of trying something others would deem taboo, it was the meat-eater’s delight of trying new things.
He just loved meat. Costco hot dogs, Korean ramen with shredded pork in bacon broth from Chelsea Market in New York City, orange chicken from any Chinese restaurant you can think of, and even old-fashioned turkey sandwiches with provolone cheese, some spicy mustard, and if it’s from Panera, some bacon.
He leaves behind our mother, who is taking this hard. She mentioned not having Thanksgiving dinner because there will only be two people in a family of five willing to eat that poor, glazed turkey and stuffing. Man, I love stuffing…I mean…He loved stuffing. I might as well say goodbye to that honey-baked ham for him while I’m at it.
The truth is, I’m glad he’s gone. The world is a better place with his loss.
The world would be a better place if everyone’s inner carnivore passed away. And no, this is not a subliminal message that you’ve been tricked into by some impostor representing PETA that’s ready to dump paint all over your furry, leather wardrobe.
The carnivore in me died because of that thing called climate change. It’s the thing that is ruining the ice caps, causing the sixth major mass extinction in the world’s history and already causing conflict in drought stricken areas of the world. Hello, Syria.
It’s scary, and believe it or not, our diets are affecting this just as much as living that glamorous life while driving in a supercharged Camaro or Rolls Royce Phantom at 14 miles-per-gallon.
California is in a major drought because of climate change. If you haven’t heard about it, you’ve either been in a coma since 2010 or you’re a Republican running for office. As actual, coherent people, Californians have made strides in water consumption reduction. We’ve slashed minutes off our shower time, washed our cars slightly less and, unless we’re in the one percent, we’ve taken it easy on trying to overly water our lawns.
Yes, these things help, but a change in diet can help so much more. For instance, it can take close to 2,500 gallons of water to produce one pound of beef. Let that settle in for a second — not in your stomach, in your brain.
But wait, there’s more. Take a look at this data from the Los Angeles Times via National Geographic. Each hamburger needs 660 gallons of water to be produced. I took a full shower with one of these water bottles at Coachella and it was only a third of the way full. By my calculations, I can save enough water to take 990 Coachella showers for each hamburger I don’t eat. That amount of water would allow me to shower every day for almost three full years.
Not everyone would like to take Coachella baths every day of their life so based on statistics from the U.S. Geological Survey, 660 gallons of water is enough to take a five-minute shower 26 days in a row.
All this beef talk and I haven’t even mentioned how one pound of chicken needs 468 gallons and one pound of pork requires 576 gallons of water to be produced. Milk necessitates 880 gallons and cheese 600 gallons of water, but veganism has definitely been a challenge for my appetite.
There is so much more we can do with the amount of water being used to pump up the agriculture industry, especially considering California is home to 9 out of ten of the most productive agricultural counties in the United States.
By the way, a 2009 Worldwatch report also claimed that 51 percent of all greenhouse gas emissions released into the atmosphere are due to agriculture. Water conservation? Check. Greenhouse gas emission reduction? Check.
The bottom line is that my inner carnivore — in many ways — was a martyr. He died because I believe water is the medium of life and it’s more important to conserve our most important asset as humans rather than to indulge in some sausage and bacon with my Sunday breakfast.
The world is constantly changing, and so should we. This time the world is changing at a rapid pace, and it’s because of human consumption. There is no life if we destroy our planet through bad habits, but I have hope for us.
Gandhi said, “Be the change that you wish to see in the world,” so that’s what I’ll do — and hey, it always feels good to say I saved a life in the process.
