by Ron Marr

Being a Southern boy, I like chicken. I like it baked or broiled or broasted or barbecued. It's hard to beat a mess of fowl that's been soaked in buttermilk, rolled in corn meal and dunked in the deep fryer. I've never been quite certain whether or not chicken prepared in this manner really tastes like chicken - you could probably batter-fry the backseat of a Chevy and receive a similar gustatory sensation - but that's beside the point.

Chicken tastes like chicken, which tastes like fish, which tastes like gator, which tastes like bull-frog, which tastes like snake, which tastes like rabbit, which tastes like the aforementioned rear cushion of a 68' Impala. The Fry Daddy is an equal opportunity appliance. If you really want to mess people up when eating chicken, take a big bite and loudly exclaim "ummm..ummm. Tastes like bull-frog."

I'm partial to the skin of the chicken, which is where the health giving nutrients inherent to a heavy batter are located. I'm particularly partial to the skin if it's of the "Extra Crispy" variety. The invention of "Extra Crispy" is the reason that I place the late Colonel Harlan Sanders, founder of Kentucky Fried Chicken, on the same pedestal with such visionaries and humanitarians as Henry Ford, Mother Teresa and Rush Limbaugh. Some folks went weepy when Princess Diana slammed into a bridge. Others rent their clothes when John John Kennedy splashed into the Atlantic. Millions mourned because Elvis got all drugged-up and fell off the toilet.

Me...I shed a tear when Colonel Sanders went to that big ol' red and white revolving bucket in the sky. That's why I'm offended, on a spiritual level, that the fine culinary institution which bears the Colonel's name and visage is under attack by the heinous miscreants known as People For The Ethical Treatment of Animals.

PETA is launching a boycott against KFC's parent company (Yum Brands of Louisville, Ky., and no, I didn't make up that name) with allegations of animal-rights abuses. PETA is whining that KFC chickens don't have nice living quarters (no maids...no satellite dish) and are sent to their reward in a barbarous manner.

Since PETA people consider the mere consumption of a critter an animal-rights abuse, I put little faith in their claims. Instead, I will side with Yum Brands, as they have a stellar track record in regard to gastronomic principle. Along with KFC, the company owns Pizza Hut, Taco Bell and Long John Silver. These are all fine firms, but I'm particularly fond of the latter, assuming of course that they still give out flimsy paper pirate hats and eye patches. One cannot help but enjoy a blood-thirsty buccaneer motif while eating deep-sea denizens prepared in boiling oil. Personally, I revel in donning such apparel and yelling "Arrrrrgh...Ahoy Matey" at highly inappropriate times. This may explain why I don't have a lot of second dates.

PETA folks though...they're a soy and tofu, "bless the beasts and children" kind of clan with zero regard for pirate costumes or the blessed memory of kindly old Southern Colonels. They don't like to chow down on anything with a face, and right there is a sign of severe mental dysfunction. They pretend to be concerned about the "rights" of all living things, which is pretty funny since it was recently reported that the group publicly gives money to domestic terrorist organizations such as the Earth Liberation Front. I really respect an outfit which places the entitlements of moles, rats, possums, crabs, tapeworms and barnyard birds above those of humans who could well be burned alive when the E.L.F crowd torches their mountain-side condo.

PETA is largely supported by Hollywood celebrities and Democratic sympathizers. Since these sub-cultures are usually of a pacifist mindset, it only makes sense that they would advocate giving Foghorn Leghorn the right to vote, buy beer and receive government subsidized tattoo removal. Their commonalties with chickens are readily apparent, once again proving the old adage that "it takes one to know one."

Because of this insidious boycott against the legacy of the Colonel, I plan on eating at KFC as often as possible. They offer a dandy buffet for about seven bucks. It features not only all the batter-fried chicken skin you can swallow, but also their famous mashed taters, gravy and a host of other Epicurean delights. PETA's rationale that KFC's "crude and ineffective electric stunning and throat-slitting of chickens" is inhumane will only lead me to order more Extra Crispy.

Frankly, that electric stunning bit strikes me as an awful lot of unnecessary work. When I was a kid we would just slap Henny Penny on a stump and whack her head off with a hatchet. It's fairly interesting work, as the decapitated fowl nearly always makes a mad, spurting, flapping dash of 30 or 40 feet before succumbing to the noggin-ectomy procedure. Nature is a teacher, and the lesson learned from acephalous poultry is that you really don't need a brain to run around like a dang-fool idiot making a spectacle of yourself.

I'm certain the PETA people can relate.

If you liked this editorial by Ron Marr, you can read more of his work at the Trout Wrapper.

If exposed to a breast, will you know what to do?

LINWOOD BARCLAY

Now that there's been a chance for all the hoopla and outrage to die down a bit, it's time for a more serious response to that incident during the half-time show at Sunday's Super Bowl.

All week I've been surveying psychologists, therapists, and the people who run lottery kiosks in a bid to answer the question that a lot of us are now taking the time to ask: What should you do if you see a breast unexpectedly?

After all, the sudden exposure of a breast can happen any time, any place. It's not something that's restricted to televised events. It can happen at home, in the workplace, at the mall, even in the back seat of an automobile.

You need to be ready. Here are a few steps you can take:

First of all, DON'T PANIC. This is easy to say, of course, when you're not actually faced with an exposed bosom. Reducing the duration of the "gazing period" is critical. There's no reason that seeing an exposed breast should result in any permanent physical or emotional damage, provided you ACT QUICKLY. Most of us know looking at the sun directly for anything more than a millisecond can result in eye damage, and staring at a breast you had no idea you were going to get a peek of is no different.

If subjected to an "exposure incident," try to focus on something else as quickly as possible. It doesn't matter all that much what you look at, provided it does not have any sort of sexual connotation. If the exposure does happen on television, you can switch immediately to something else, like Martha Stewart, or possibly The Weather Network. It's very helpful in this kind of an emergency, at least this time of year, when you're unlikely to see shots of people strolling along topless beaches.

If the exposure is not TV-related, divert your attention to something else in your immediate surroundings, like, say, a lamp. Well, maybe not a lamp, since the bulb is sort of shaped like ... Perhaps a couch. Well, maybe not a couch, since sometimes, when you're on the couch ... Okay, just go read something by Tom Clancy. That will pretty much deaden all the senses.

To prepare you for what is known as an "exposure incident," you may want to conduct, with members of your family, "breast drills."

All you need is a piece of fruit (orange, grapefruit, pomegranate) or even a tennis ball. Jump out from behind a wall, clutching the item in front of your chest, surprising another member of your family. Take turns doing this. With practice, your reaction will be more subdued, and the time you spend looking at the item will decrease. You'll be grateful you took this time to prepare when a real crisis strikes.

You may want to avail yourself of the services of a trauma counsellor. There's usually one around somewhere. You may be urged to discuss the incident, to express your feelings of shock and horror. Many people believe suppressing your feelings, pretending that the event never happened, just means you're going to have to deal with it later.

You must, however, be careful to engage the services of a legitimate trauma therapist, so as to avoid the following:

Counsellor: Perhaps, if you described what you saw.

Patient: Gosh, I don't know. It looked, well, it sort of looked like ....

Counsellor: Did it look like ... THIS!

Patient: Dear god! Put that away!

Finally, at some point, you have to move forward, get on with your life. And you have to know that just because this has happened to you once, there's no guarantee it won't happen again. In fact, many of these incidents come along in pairs.

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