A PERFECT MEAL  

One of my pleasant self-conversations occurs every morning during that delicious time between coming awake and getting out of bed. The discussion revolves around what to have for breakfast. For some people, that might be a trivial affair, ham and eggs or cereal and perhaps one or two other things, but for me it’s a big deal. I run through the possibilities, omelet, scrambled eggs, poached eggs, salad, tuna salad, chicken salad and, in cold weather, hot cereal. Sometimes I'll have a bit of steak, usually skirt steak either slathered in butter or pick-a-pepper sauce. And, I almost forgot eggplant salad, which sometimes is there consequent to an earlier craving and cooking spree.

You must understand that I love all of the above but I don't love them all the time. What I mean is that whatever I choose for that time is the perfect meal. For example, this morning while discussing the matter with myself I considered poached eggs. I must say, though I sometimes love such, this morning disgust greeted the thought. I quickly ran through tuna and chicken salad, zipped past an omelet and pondered a lettuce, tomato and onion salad. While I did not consciously make a choice, I knew that it would be the salad; the flavor of balsamic vinegar seemed particularly fetching and that's what I had.

You get my point? The perfect meal depends on my attitude at the time. The other night, at an Italian restaurant, the menu had sauteed chicken livers with onion, mushrooms and green pepper. I imagine they were all sizzled up in olive oil and I felt my mouth moisten; yes, I salivated at the prospect. In truth, I hadn't eaten chicken livers for three or four decades, perhaps more (they do make wonderful chopped liver) but that night, at that time, the chicken livers were the sine qua non of my gustatory desires . . . and I gobbled them up. At that moment in my psychological state, they were the perfect meal! If that state reoccurs, I imagine I'll search out another restaurant or sizzle up a batch for breakfast.

One of the truths that I know about eating such livers is that they are bad for the body. As far as I know, they are loaded with cholesterol, the bad kind and who knows with whatever skunky stuff exists to diminish my body's ability to keep me alive. So, why would I ever eat it? Clearly, because of the pleasure and there's the rub – let me be clear, we poor mortals are constantly at war with ourselves, think of the angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other, about the hedonic formula. That's fancy for how to manage pleasure without destroying ourselves. As I have said, Epicurus affirmed that all pleasure is good, but not all pleasure is good for you. Further, even pleasures that do no harm are not desirable in excess. I mean, sex six times a day will probably get you a clinical diagnosis even though you might be having a ball. Of course, such diagnosis might reflect societal values rather than scientific verity.

Religion has given us a list of 7 deadly sins. I cannot recall them precisely, but most, if not all have to do with pleasure seeking behavior. Somewhere along the way, as part of the reformation, both Catholic and Protestant churches decided that they had to get control of sexual behavior. People had to marry in a church and receive blessings for their union and of course, they were given instructions about how to conduct themselves. Sex is for procreation and there is only one proper position. Adultery was strictly forbidden; the churches were in control of the bedroom.

There is a certain nuttiness in the notion that sex is only for procreation; that the enjoyment is only incidental to God's purpose. But, there are certainly couples who cannot have children. Should they not enjoy each other’s bodies? And, what about folks whose procreation days are past but who thoroughly enjoy sexual activity. Must children appear willy-nilly in spite of life circumstances? Have I mentioned neighbors with thirteen children who were informed by their priest that they must continue producing babies, that the woman could not refuse the man. Never mind that her doctor said that having more children might well kill her, God's plan is to populate the earth.

We spend our lives making decisions about finding pleasure and avoiding pain. We rationalize, “A little bit won't hurt me.” “I'll start my diet tomorrow.” “God won't love me if I enjoy sex too much so I better cut back.” The angel and the devil are always there and the struggle is, frankly a pain in the ass.

One of the things that most of us treasure

Is the pleasure to be found in pleasure

It really is swell

And you won't go to hell

But keep in mind it's something to measure.