Velveetini

My long life has been blessed with a seeing a multitude of inventions and new products developed to ease the burden of being human. In our fast-paced, often ruthless, society where Job-like suffering condemns most of us to the miseries of working for a living, paying a mortgage, dealing with the fluctuating price of gasoline, raising teenagers, and getting fat on fast food supersized lunches, some of our lives will be further exacerbated by having to drive a used car—maybe two or three used cars if we have said teenagers driving also. We complain often, as if a national pastime, about our deprived lot in life. It has been said by some that our deprivations in America are so terrible that other countries—let’s say like Ethopia, Darfur, Yemen, Guatemala, and Florida—pray for our deliverance. Consequently, our best minds continue to work toward our salvation. Their rigorous thought continues to bring us the solutions that seem to harmonize with our national priorities.

It’s true that we have been unable to conquer some minor inconveniences to life in our paradise. We haven’t ended poverty, cured cancer, established world peace, eliminated racism, or created an equitable economic system. But the geniuses of Eurocentric white western culture have managed to generate a cornucopia of wonderous accomplishments in an attempt to make life worth living here in America. I will name only a few.

First, in my childhood, Ford Motor Company managed to create a moderately priced full-size sedan designed to bring luxury to every middle-class American. This eight-cylinder automobile was filled with so much convenience that Ford assured dealers that it would fly off the lot, especially when gasoline only cost seventeen cents a gallon. Named after one of the Ford heirs, they called it Edsel. Of course, the oil shortage and the development of compact cars a year later—well, let’s just say history was not on the side of Edsel.

Who remembers all the money spent by the television industry so Geraldo Rivera could open and amaze us with the contents of Al Capone’s tomb? How about when we ended the problem of congested traffic in urban areas by developing hoverboards? The traffic problems remained, but many hospitals saw an uptick in profit through the orthopedic department. Unfortunately, most people discontinued hoverboard use after their broken bones healed. Don’t forget the great leaps forward in electronics, smart appliances, and speech recognition software. I can still quote the first story I dictated to my computer when I installed the speech software—AGRFVBNMUCK. BLANGONGILWHACK.

My favorite discovery, especially given my predilection for super-sized Wendy’s meals, was the cooking oil substitute called Olestra. It was guaranteed to remove those fat calories from potato chips and other fried delights. It worked. I lost ten pounds almost immediately. I even named the diet for future generations. I called it Diarrheit.

I might continue this list as infinitum, but I’m busy with other things, and you’re probably bored by now. I’ll get to the point of this reminder by describing the newest development to enter the world of cosmopolitan living. I can’t wait to try one myself.  Bartenders and aficionados of distilled spirits have shaken and stirred martinis all over the world in every possible combination since the Roaring Twenties when flapper girls were easily impressed with erudite men and their creative desires. A martini made of vodka or gin and pomegranate, apple, coconut, peach, mint, cucumber, chocolate, or espresso may satisfy your thirst for adventure. If not, try a Knickerbocker or Bikini martini and maybe a Pyramid Martini or Lemon Splash. Who is to say these bizarre concoctions have not aided in the development of our great civilization?

Imagine my surprise and joy when I learned recently of the newest form of self-induced alcoholic numbness released on the same society that routinely elects brilliant Republicans like Louie Gomert and Marjorie Taylor Greene to high office. We have finally reached the epitome of gastronomical success by combining two of my favorite ingredients into a connoisseur’s delight. One, a staple of my childhood diet and a treat I still enjoy on apple pie or grilled between two slices of whole wheat bread or just eaten in big bites straight from the box—Velvetta Cheese. The other is an elixir that heals the sick, raises the dead, makes a genius from those of the most limited intellect, creates heroes faster than a speeding bullet and more powerful than a locomotive. It comes in liquid form and is basically the same proof whether you call it gin or vodka. Yes, I swear this is true. You can now buy a Velveeta Martini at discriminating bars and restaurants. It’s a meal in a glass. Will the wonders of America never cease to amaze? I’m calling it the Velveetini and I’m on my way now to find one. I feel better for my country already.