Old People Can't Eat Tupperware Anymore

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For my brother Mark.
He once told me as I teased him about getting older, "Yea, that's true Kath.... But remember... I'll always be younger than you."

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I've been thinking about aging lately.
Pondering even, which is deeper and more serious.

It turns out that much of growing old is surprising.
And, now and again, I'm even startled to discover "old" strangely fascinating.

I'll look at some new physical development and say to myself;

"Goodness, THAT never happened before."

"Why, all of a sudden, is my miraculous, heavenly inspired body leaving lines and marks all over it?"

"That hurts! It never hurt a few years ago."

"Why is my skin flaking off? I put my good lotion."

"What's that? Those body parts were never that low!"

"Again? I just went!"

And most especially, "What's going on with my digestion?"

I asked that question just this morning as a matter of fact.

You see, I've always been a fan of spicy foods.
This comes from being born and raised in the Sonorran desert where Mexican food is served directly after weaning.
As, of course. it should be.

I feel sorry for people who weren't born here and have no appreciation in their very blood for Mexican food. It truly is a gift from God.

Also, my father was born in Bangkok so I remember the amazing hot curries and coconut soups of Thailand.
I recall my dear Aunt Miriam, my dad's sister, who was new to America, coming to cook in our kitchen one day. She was grating fresh coconut into a cheesecloth so she could  squeeze the milk out into some heavenly sauce.
I watched in awe and I've still never seen anything like the love and care that went into that meal.

But some people haven't been  blessed with such a rich culinary heritage.
One is my dear son-in-law who was born in the Pacific Northwest, Seattle area.
This poor man grew up with nothing but smoked salmon in his veins.
I've always felt sorry for him.

Now, don't get me wrong, Larry and I had an absolutly wonderful Alder smoked salmon experience in Seattle one lovely summer night.

We were on the pier, late. We'd spent the day sightseeing and ferry boat riding. The sun still wasn't completely gone from the sky. This would make it around 8 in the evening in Arizona but in the Northwest it was after 11!

It was well past our dinnertime and we were hungry. Larry went up to a little salmon stand where a lovely glowing barbeque fire was almost spent. He ordered fish  dinners for the two of us.
As the nice man was filling our plates he said, "Hey, I'm closing up. Would you like the rest of this halibut, swordfish and salmon? I'll just give it to you."
Would we like it? Was he kidding?

Anyway, it was one of those "meals of a lifetime."  You know the ones.
They come along now and again because they're so special, in one way or another. The place and the people are as important as the food. But you never forget.

This one was on the pier, beautiful summer night, sun leaving only streaks of color in the sky, best friend stealing your tartar sauce. Wonderful smoked fish.
I'll never forget.

Nevertheless, morning always comes, even in Seattle.
And then, there you are, without a decent enchilada or refried bean to be found.

This tangent that I'm off on today was brought on by the fact that I'm unwell this morning.
Very, decidedly, unwell.
This unwellness was brought on because I ate Tupperware last night.

Let me explain.

Once, on a formerly popular television show, I heard a doctor trying to illustrate this idea to an aging patient.
She advised the man that when he was 25 years old his digestive system could handle almost anything he threw into it. He could eat the Tupperware that he'd packed his lunch in and still function.
But old people who eat Tupperware will have consequences, she said accusingly.

I can report that this is true. Here's my report.

My lovely daughter Beth is a fine, inspired cook.
She "creates" as she chops. After this chopping stops you can be sure that soon some delicious smell will be wafting through the house.
She will then tell everyone, "No, it isn't ready yet. I'm marinating."
It's actually torture. She knows this. (Beth has latent "Mother" issues.)

Now and again she puts things on the charcoal grill, and lets the torture spread to all the neighbors. Her father taught her this.
Delicious grilling smells always come from the whole block the day AFTER Beth cooks outside.

Well, yesterday she made a large vat of her most delectable Mexican shrimp cocktail.
It was chock full of chopped tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, garlic, cilantro, avocado, jalepeno peppers,  lime juice, and icy cold cooked shrimp.
This she engulfs in a delicious, spicy, gazpacho-like sauce with some sort of addictive additive, which she alone knows about.

This cocktail also happens to be very good for you!
No guilt. No fat. Except for avocados, (which is good fat!)
Tons of raw vegetables, fresh herbs, peppers and citrus juice, and non-fried shrimp.
Larry was among the many fans of Beth's shrimp cocktail.

Well, I was super excited for this culinary treat.
The whole house floated along  in a cloud of fresh lime, garlic, cilantro and  pepper smells while "marinating" worked its magic.

I ate Beth's cocktail.
Lots of it.
It was stupendous!

Except for the bottom of the bowl juices.
I didn't eat them.

You see, for some reason this bottom juice always seems to become very spicy as you go along.
I've noticed this happens with Thai coconut soup and curry too.
People are then forced to get another bowl because the top juice won't be so hot.

Is there a chemical reason for this?

Anyway, I woke up this morning with a clear message from my aging body.

It said,   "You ate Tupperware, didn't you?    You know that old people will have consequences and yet you still ate the Tupperware.  When are you ever going to learn that it's foolish to get into a war with old?"

Remember. And be well.

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"And I the Lord God, said unto the woman: What is this thing which thou hast done? And the woman said: The serpent beguiled me and I did eat."
Genesis 3:13

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"Watch and pray that ye enter not into temptation; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak."  Matthew 26:41

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"To every thing there is a season, a time for every purpose under the heavens."
Ecclesiastes 3:1

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"Old people can't eat tupperware anymore."
Sister Wagher