Tuesday, March 24, 2015

A Taste For It

Just about every morning that I drag myself out of bed and my feet hit the cold linoleum of the bathroom floor I have this waking thought: "Gee, it's great to be an American." This probably has a lot to do with the fact that it isn't every country in the world that provides cold linoleum upon which its citizens can place their feet to have such morning epiphanies, but also because each new day brings with it a slew of new awakenings and revelations as to exactly why we live in this best of all possible countries in this best of all possible worlds. Today's eye opener? Taco Bell.
First and foremost, it should be noted that their slogan, "Make a run for the border," is perhaps the most amusingly ironic catchphrase in American advertising. Whoever decided to make a point of how we should all make a run toward the very boundary which so many people would have us run from or wall off completely shows us all that Don Draper may not be a made up person at all. His spirit lives on. And on.
Taco Bell can be congratulated for the invention, or at least the pat off registering of the Fourth Meal. No longer should we feel constrained, as Americans, to the simple rules of three square meals. If we, as Americans, need to have any permutation of cheese, ground beef, and tortillas smothered in more melted cheese, we don't have to wait until the following morning to stand in line to peer hazily up at that value menu. We are encouraged, at most hours of the night and day, to find a path that takes us to the counter which will serve as the metaphorical between what tastes good and good taste. Sorry, Charlie, no tuna tacos here. But they do have breakfast, and their innovative one handed taste sensation allows the hipsters in all of us to eat with one hand and post selfies of ourselves eating that same meaty-cheesy treat with the other. Genius.
And just when you thought the well was empty, the lifestyle contourists at Taco Bell are going to start adding Fritos to your "Mexican food." This will be the thing that keeps us all from ever fully equating the cuisine offered up at that metaphorical border to be anything but Gringo food. Food for Americans. And fiercely proud of it. Amen.

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