Red Meat Flying

Today is my daughter Kerala’s 39^thbirthday. Her daughter Zadie is asleep on the couch and the here in Portland is chilled, announcing the new seasons to come. My wife and I will teach an art and music class at Zadie’s school, visit grandson Malik at his preschool, lunch with Kerala downtown before heading home back to our San Francisco life. It has been a wonderful two days, culminating in a birthday dinner last night for husband Ronnie at a steakhouse he has been curious about. 

 

We arrived at the restaurant early to find it packed to the brim and a 45 minute wait list. With two young kids, not a promising beginning. But 2 ½ hours later, we got up from one of the most harmonious dinners out with the grandkids we’ve ever had. Never a harsh reprimand and good, jovial conversation flowing amidst the slabs of red meat and the Senior’s Fish and Chips (well, broccoli) that I had. Three other Happy Birthday songs at other tables—it seemed to be a popular day to enter this life on earth. 

 

The other day, I heard that eating 4 lbs of red meat (about 16 hamburgers) is equivalent to flying from New York to London and back in terms of consumption of earth’s resources. At first proud and then ashamed of my Million Mile Club status, here was my ticket to relieving my guilt. Haven’t eaten any red meat for some 48 years. But isn’t that statistic interesting? I guess if you eat steak on a transatlantic flight, you are the bad guy.

 

Time to wake Zadie up, 39 years after my life changed forever in the most marvelous of ways. Happy birthday to my loving daughter Kerala!!