Don't Say "Might as Well"

I closed the door of the Range Rover and strode towards the door of the dilapidated gas station, the one all my friends avoid because they think they’ll get robbed. Some of us are made of sterner stuff, and fear not such things. As it is, I myself now avoid this particular gas station as well, but my reasons for so doing, rather than being fearfully motivated, have to do with the idea that perhaps an establishment as shady as this one can’t necessarily be trusted to dispense a gallon when a gallon is purchased. But I digress.

At least they know what they want . . . 

I pulled my cream fedora down farther onto my brow, straightening my tie as I stepped over the threshold. The other patrons wore stained tank-tops and baggy jeans around their knees, and they looked at me as though I were from Mars. I am not from Mars. I took my place in line behind another customer. He was short, unshaven, wearing faded, concrete-spattered denim, and he was purchasing two 40 oz. cans of Bud Light. As he set them down of the counter, the clerk tried to make some small talk. “Oooooooh,” she said. “Looks like you’re going to party tonight, eh?”

Now, Bud Light isn’t really my idea of a party, but we’ll let that one slide. The man half nodded, half shrugged, and replied, “Might as well!”

I was taken aback, not by these words, but by my reaction to them, which was rather extraordinarily Baptist-y. Now, as a Reformed Baptist I am not opposed to alcohol as such. In fact, it would be a stretch of the truth to describe me as anything other than whole-heartedly in favor. The Lord’s Supper is celebrated with wine, which is no accident. The Israelites were commanded to celebrate with “strong drink,” a kind of ancient beer. The Apostle tells us to “test the spirits,” and I always oblige. (That’s a joke, people. Lighten up a bit, what?). Which is to say that I was altogether surprised to find myself begrudging (ever so slightly, mind you) this fellow his beer. However, I also have a fairly well established philosophy concerning how alcohol is and is not to be used, and it was this sensibility of mine which was offended. It was the shrug and the phrase might as well that raised my Scandinavian eyebrows. Friends, never say "might as well." Don't think it either.

Initially, I suspected my knee-jerk displeasure was merely a reaction against cheap alcohol. Confessedly, I have some not-so-slight inclinations towards snobbery. I want to enjoy alcohol if I drink it, which means that the alcohol needs to be enjoyable; id est the drink in question ought to be one of quality. But this is only a small part of the matter. While I might not enjoy a typical American pilsner (e.g. Budweiser or Coors) as much as a craft ale or an imperial stout, I have to concede that this is a matter of preference. That beverages ought to be enjoyable does not speak to the fact that others enjoy different things than I.

No, but alcohol is to be enjoyed. It is celebratory. Wine is the perfect accompaniment for a fine meal. A jolly evening with friends should include porter and stout and ale. Scotch is the drink you should choose for a quiet evening with a pipe and book. Warm brandy comforts the body and sooths the soul when you have the flu. But these beverages are not to be enjoyed for the sake of the alcohol they contain, nor is alcohol to be used for the purpose of becoming drunk. They are to be enjoyed because they are delicious. If you buy cheap alcohol because you enjoy it, well and good. By all means, let me not stop you. But if you buy the cheapest beer you can find because you are using the beer as a delivery mechanism for alcohol and nothing else, this ought not to be.

Now, if you’re downing two 40 oz. cans of Bud Light because you “might as well,” this raises the obvious question: Might you, then, just as well not? If you are only drinking because you can’t think of anything else to do, I beg to differ, sir. You might better use that money on your wife and family, or on clothes or food or shelter or charity (some might make this argument regardless of the reasoning behind the purchase of the alcohol, but for my purposes here I will conveniently forget that such arguments exist. In the mean time, I shall simply point you to John 12:3-7 and assume that my point is made).

If you are enjoying a beer because you are with old friends and are having a roaring good time, I am with you. If you want a mug of the frosty brew because you have toiled all day in the hot sun and wish to be refreshed, I shall gladly buy the first round. But if you’re drinking “cause, like, why not, like, you know?” then I suggest you repent, quit drifting through life as though it were one of the less exciting rides at Disneyland,  and develop the fine and manly qualities of tenacity and assertiveness.

I have used the example of alcohol, but I wish to illustrate a far broader point. Whatever we do, or say, or think, it should be done purposefully. An action might be neutral in and of itself, but no action is neutral when placed in the context of real life. Do you eat or sleep or read a book or go to the gym? These are neutral actions. But at present, you either should or should not be doing them. Are you playing the violin? Well and good if you are practicing for a symphony, but woe to you if you are watching Rome burn. Do not say “might as well.” Act purposefully, or refrain from acting, also purposefully. “Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God.”

Is Your Breakfast Virtuous?

“He that but looketh on a plate of ham and eggs to lust after it hath already committed breakfast with it in his heart.” 

 – C.S. Lewis

It is well known among my friends and family that I consider cold breakfast cereal to be modern and unvirtuous. And though it puts me at odds, seemingly, with the whole cereal-loving world, I shall stand firm on this sentiment. Cold cereal is unvirtuous. It is not hearty, delicious, and comforting. It is a processed, mass produced, measly little dish for those who think themselves too busy to make a proper meal. Moreover, it is often dubiously flavored, and usually bathed in an impious amount of sugar. If you think cocoa puffs or fruitloops are delicious, I’m afraid you may be nearly beyond hope, but I nonetheless invite you to repent. When I was a child, I ate like a child, or something. I’m sorry you had to find out this way.

All foods are not created equal. They can be virtuous, or unvirtuous. They can be decadent or hearty, gourmet or peasantly. All meals call for virtuous foods, but perhaps none can rise to such virtuous heights or sink to such craven depths as breakfast. Now, one should always strive to eat a virtuous breakfast. After all, is it really conceivable that one should go virtuously through his day if he starts his day with an unvirtuous breakfast? The present writer raises his eyebrows dubiously.

What makes a breakfast virtuous or not? This deserves some consideration. The word virtue comes from the Latin, virtus, meaning manliness, strength, courage, goodness, and excellence. All of these ideas should be embodied in the breakfast you choose. You need a manly breakfast to give you strength and courage throughout your day.  Such a breakfast ought to be highly nutritious, which is related to the goodness of it. And it ought to be delicious, which is, of course, very excellent.

How are we to judge as to which breakfasts meet these criteria? Much of this will have to be intuitive for you, but don’t worry, it comes pretty naturally once you get the hang of it. When in doubt, consider! Can you imagine Winston Churchill eating this breakfast before a long day of winning World War Two, or Teddy Roosevelt eating it before hunting an elk or boxing a foreign diplomat?  Can you imagine it being served out of a chuck wagon to hungry cowboys on the Chisholm Trail?

Simple fare is that which is called for, friends. Simple, but hearty. The sound of pans sizzling with bacon and sausage, eggs frying in grease, the smell of fresh toast and warm butter, the warmth of a mug in the hand - these are the things of which a good breakfast is made.   

Eggs and Coffee

Eggs and coffee should be thought of as the basic breakfast, as a sort of foundation on which the rest are built. You may occasionally forgo the eggs, but this should be done rarely. The coffee really is standard. You need a half-pint of the earthy, inky brew to drive the sleep from the eyes, to clear the mind and to invigorate the limbs. The eggs give you that bit of salty protein which starts ones day off so famously. The eggs should be fried or scrambled; the coffee should be strong and good.

Do you remember in Prince Caspian when Peter and Edmund are looking forward to the prospect of breakfast upon reaching Aslan’s How? Lewis writes that they want “buttered eggs and hot coffee.” Of course they do. That’s a virtuous breakfast, and they’re virtuous chaps.

Bertie Wooster in one of the Jeeves stories opined, "I'm never really much of a lad until I've downed an egg or two and a beaker of coffee." None of us are, Bertie, none of us are.

Bacon, Sausage, Ham, Steak

A breakfast of eggs and coffee is very virtuous, but it is always made much more excellent and cheery by the inclusion of some breakfast meat. Sausage and bacon accompany the eggs so splendidly, and you can use the grease from the bacon or the sausage to fry your eggs. Capital! Ham and eggs is a classic. Steak and eggs is one of the heartiest breakfasts one could ask for. That’s what our boys ate for breakfast before they stormed the beaches at Normandy, ya’ll.

Potatoes

From Dublin to Idaho, and everywhere else for that matter, what could be more virtuous than the potato? Potatoes are dug from the ground, and we all know that agriculture is virtuous. Potatoes have a rare sort of earthy quality. And, no, that’s not just the dirt. I rinsed ‘em first, I promise. They are starchy and delicious – a perfect complement to your eggs. Dice ‘em and fry them in a pan, or grate them and make hash-browns.

When potato crops die, people starve. It's history, folks.

Toast

Simple.  Delicious. What more could one ask for at breakfast? Toast plays a similar role as the potato, balancing out the eggs. I always find that toast goes best with scrambled eggs.

Poptarts

No.

Porridge/Oatmeal

Hot cereal, it should be clear, is in a different category entirely from cold cereal. Now, oatmeal certainly isn’t spectacular, but it has its place. It's good and filling, and sometimes just the thing. It’s also very easy to pack and to cook, and it keeps virtually forever. If you’re hiking the Sierras, you’re not going to be lugging a carton of eggs around in your backpack. A bowl of oatmeal is just what the doctor ordered. It'll warm you up in the morning and give you the energy to hoist up your pack and hit the trail.

Omelets

Oh, boy. There are few things in this world more delicious that a good omelet. Cheese, meat, tomato, and green onion, encased in egg and fried in butter. Of course you can adjust the omelet according to your tastes, but it needs to have meat and cheese and green onion (scallions). The scallions are what really pull the thing together, and raise it from just another egg dish to the heights of culinary art. Truly, the omelet is to be revered, and – aye! – it is virtuous. My favorite? Ham, Tillamook sharp cheddar, scallions, tomatoes, and chopped bell pepper, with Tabasco liberally applied over the top. If you’re in California, you might crown your omelet with a few slices of ripe avocado.

Pancakes, Waffles, French Toast

Of adequate virtue, and often very delicious. There’s a great deal of variation here, though. If these things are frozen, or made from a packaged mix, they are not very virtuous at all. Similarly, artificial syrup is an abomination which will quickly render virtue-less anything with which it comes in contact. Good maple syrup or a rich blackberry syrup, along with plenty of butter, are the proper media for the anointment of your griddle-cakes. Oh, and calling them griddle-cakes or flap-jacks makes them sound much more ruggedly virtuous than pancakes. So do that. Ideally, these should be paired with fried eggs, bacon/sausage, the works. Also, such a sweet breakfast crieth out with a loud voice to be washed down with strong black coffee.

Biscuits and Gravy

Oh-me-oh-my-o! Biscuits and gravy, friends! Nothing is quite so hearty and filling as a breakfast of biscuits and gravy. This is the kind of breakfast that sticks to your ribs. Next time you’re going to be spending the day felling trees or chopping wood, this is the breakfast you need. Lean your ax against the wall, grab a plate of biscuits and gravy and scrambled eggs, and pour yourself a steaming cuppa joe. Hearty. Satisfying. Virtuous.  

Think you’ll fell those trees on a belly full of fruitloops? Not a chance.

Eat up, lads and lasses!