Only two lives to give for my country

The front-page top-fold story in the Sunday NY Times today alerted Americans that its government--get ready for it--has been saying one thing and doing another. I know, I know--will this loss of collective innocence never stop? Apparently, this time, it's about cheese.

I have met only one person in my entire life that did not like cheese: a young child who had clearly confused those cellophane-wrapped orange-dyed paste squares with that glorious substance that is often the most interesting encounter at a cocktail party. I do not simply like cheese. A creamy herbed chevre, wheat crackers, and a buttery Chardonnay deliver what I believe people meditate in ashrams and enter sweat lodges to discover: that Socratic balance of inner and outer as one; the still point; the Om. That I do not eat this every night is only a testament to my frugality: I cannot afford to replace my Theory slacks to accommodate new thighs. Not in this economy.

It seems the US Government, through the Department of Agriculture, has been actively discouraging over-consumption of the food that the guy in the Dairy Management office down the hall--also part of the USDA--is spending money like a drunken starlet to promote. Those readers who've had anything more than a casual brush with corporate America can't help but do that snort/chuckle thing that substitutes for all the times at work we wanted to return to our pre-K behaviors and throw things--especially now that our pitching arm is so much better. The idea of one part of an organization working at complete cross-purposes to the goals of another department--both citing the exact same mission statement as their mandate--is not a foreign concept. In fact, it is the entire reason Dilbert cartoons and happy hour exist.

So, if you feel schizophrenic don't get paranoid. Yes, Virginia, we are bad girls and good girls--sometimes at the same time. With our very government funding both sides of the argument my advice to you is to go for a good long run, then order the Stracciatella. It would be un-American to do anything else.