Last week, I was about to head into a meeting that was scheduled to last four hours. Because the day had been one of our typically busy days in the office, I never stopped for lunch, but since I was getting hungry, I decided to walk over to the convenience store behind the office. I wanted some highly caffeinated drink and some substantial snack (and I needed to get cash to pay for my share of a birthday present).
Chips and such didn't really seem filling enough, so I decided to get some of the meat snacks available.
I went back to the office, gathered my notes for the meeting, and started reading the back of the package of meat snacks and it made my day!
The first paragraph declares, "It all started in 1885." (I was hoping the meat had not been dried back then.) "My great-grandparents settled in the north woods of Wisconsin, bringing with them family meat snack recipies and an adventurous pioneer spirit."
I can just see them packing the wagon:
"Honey, don't forget the meat snack recipes."
"Dear, where did you put the adventurous pioneer spirit?"
(Hopefully under some axes and lots of clothes if they were heading to northern Wisconsin.)
But even better than the imagined conversation between great-grandpa and great-grandma was one of the disclaimers in a box at the bottom of the package: The meat contained herein is for personal use only. I have a rather vivid (and warped) imagination. I have yet to be able to imagine a use for 3.65 ounces of chunks of beef which have been highly dehydrated that is not personal. I even emailed the company, since they clearly have had experience with people using it for non-personal uses. I have not heard back.
Apparently people who make meat snacks are very enthusiastic about their business. My first encounter with this excitement was a letter I received last fall from a vendor who would be displaying at a conference I was scheduled to attend. He was so happy to be killing and drying cows.
He was so happy to be killing and drying cows that he obviously skipped English class.
I had to go back over his letter and repunctuate in order for it to make any sense. I almost made a copy and mailed it back to him, but since I sometimes do my own creative interpretation of English standards, decided not to invite karma to do it's turn. After reading the comments on the package this past week, I regret throwing that letter away. I guess I'll have to go back to the same conference to get meat-boy's letter again.
Until then, I think my entertainment will be purchasing various kinds of meat snacks and reading the packages.