One of my favorite television shows of all time was ‘Green Acres.’ And my favorite character on Green Acres was Arnold the pig. Which is pretty logical, when you think about it, since Arnold was the only person in Hooterville with any intelligence.
But as much as I liked Arnold the pig, I still eat bacon. Not all the time, just at every opportunity. I think most of the world’s problems could be solved in half an hour if you could get all the countries’ leaders to sit down together over a big plateful of bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwiches. Well, maybe not Israel, but everybody else.
But as much as I like bacon, some of these new bacon products coming out lately sound kind of weird. For instance, someone recently sent me a story about a new kind of Alka-Seltzer-type stuff called ‘Bacon Tablets.’ You drop a couple of them in a glass of water and they fizz and bubble just like Alka-Seltzer, and then the water tastes just like bacon.
Or not. I haven’t, personally, tried the Bacon Tablets. As a matter of fact, as much as I like bacon, I don’t plan to personally try the bacon tablets unless someone happens to be personally holding a gun on me, personally. I have a hard time believing it’s possible for the bacon tablets to be good. I would, personally, be surprised if they weren’t the most disgusting thing ever invented. But I could be wrong.
Archie McPhee, who evidently wrote the Bacon Tablets article for Gizmodo, suggested five ways to use the bacon tablets. None of them sounded appetizing, but the worst was to mix them with chocolate. I guess you could stir some Hershey’s Syrup into the bacon water. Archie noted that "bacon and chocolate is perhaps a rare combination." Well. it certainly is in my house, and I plan to keep it that way.
And then I found out about bacon flavored vodka, and bacon & maple flavored lollipops, and Uncle Oinker’s bacon flavored breath mints. Sure, bacon is great, but seriously? I think this is going a little too far. Someone has even come out with ‘Baconnaise, the ultimate bacon flavored spread.’
But not all the pig related news of late is centered on bacon. According to a recent Metro article, a designer named Colin Hart, from Belfast, which is not in Texas, has invented a piggy bank made from a real pig. He calls it the Piglet Bank, for some reason, and it looks just like Arnold, from Green Acres, only smaller. It’s a real baby pig, maybe a month old or less, with a slot in the top of the back for the money.
Colin charges 2,500 pounds apiece for these piggy banks, which is British currency equivalent to about $4,000, or some other amount. Either way it sounds like a lot of money for a cute place to put money. The problem is that, as you can imagine, the cry-babies have come out of the woodwork to complain.
Now, to give you an idea of the intelligence of the folks who object to the Piglet Bank, one of them told Colin he thought it was "disgusting that I was breeding pigs with a slot in their back." Which, come to think of it, would be a great idea. You could even surgically insert a cavity there, and the pig could go about its pig business with your money inside. That would make it hard for someone to steal your stash.
What surprises me, as always, is the vehemence of the pig huggers. Colin says he has had death threats over this thing. Which means these people evidently think it’s OK to kill a human being to stop him from killing pigs. Sadly there is still no law against insanity. Colin doesn’t kill the pigs, anyway. He waits for them to die of natural causes, which is why orders are sometimes not filled for up to a year.
But then, the same can be said about BrewDog, the Scottish firm that briefly bottled a kind of beer called ‘The End of History,’ which is 55 percent alcohol, and each bottle comes mounted in a stuffed animal, such as a squirrel, or a weasel, or a rabbit. Animal rights folks said this was ‘degrading’ to the animals, which I doubt, since they were already dead. Besides, James Watt, co-founder of BrewDog, said all the animals were roadkill, and only seven bottles were made. All seven sold out pretty quick, at $765 a pop. One buyer, Blake Coleman of New York, said the only reason he bought a bottle of The End of History was because it came in a bottle wrapped in a weasel. So there you go.
In case you were not one of the seven who bought a bottle of The End of History, and you’re feeling left out, I can fix you up. I ran over a ringtail yesterday, and I can stick a bottle of Dr. Pepper in it right quick. You can own the world’s only bottle of ‘The End of Ringtail,’ as Mr. Haney would say, "for the mere price of $75."
But you might want to hurry. This ringtail is getting ripe . . .
Kendal Hemphill is an outdoor humor columnist and public speaker who tries not to make a habit of drinking from dead animals. Write to him at PO Box 1600, Mason, Tx 76856 or email@example.com