There are vegetarians. Then there's me
It's lunchtime in the Very Big City. I mull my meal choices. I think back to my last two meals: Mostaccioli for dinner last night, grilled mahi-mahi for lunch yesterday. No red meat for two consecutive meals.

Woo-hoo. That entitles me to a BARBECUED BEEF SANDWICH TODAY!!

The doctor was checking my cholesterol level during my semi-annual physical two years go. She noted that it seemed a little high for somebody of my diminutive size. She asked me, "How many servings of red meat do you eat in a week?"

"Well," I replied, counting in my head, "there are seven days in a week, so we'll start with seven ... "

She sighed, shook her head and pulled a blank death certificate out of her desk drawer.

I ran out of fingers for counting. I pulled off my left shoe and sock. I stopped counting for a second. "Does bacon count as a red meat?"

She sighed again, clicked her pen and started writing.

My mother-in-law is a vegetarian. Her idea of a hearty meal is tofu. Her meals come in many colors: green, yellow, orange, bright red, a little purple if she mixes in eggplant or cabbage.

My preferred color is a little pink in the middle, thanks.