Question of the summer

So the funny thing is that since I went to my high school reunion last weekend I expected that the number one question I'd be answering this summer would be something like, "So what are you up to?" Or, "What do you do?" Or, "Are you married?" or "Do you have kids?" or "Have you made anything of yourself OR WHAT?"

And I did get asked some version of those things a number of times. However, with the pre-reunion Westport trip, and a little grandpa's surprise 90th birthday party thrown in between, I ended up being around all sorts of people I don't see very often or know very well over the past week, and the question I found myself answering again and again was, "Why are you a vegetarian?"

And the thing is that I don't really have a great answer ready to go for that one. I have a little story I often tell, about how I never liked meat all that much, and how when I ate meat, I wasn't doing anything to make sure it was not all hopped up on steroids and creepiness or that it was generally healthy and happy prior to meat-making; I thought it might be healthier not to eat meat since I wasn't eating high-quality meat anyway. I usually say something about how I'd wanted to be a vegetarian for a long time and one day I realized I should really try it instead of just thinking about it, so I had a meat-free May and really liked it and just continued on, forever and ever, amen.

And people usually seem pretty satisfied with that. They want to know things like how long ago that all happened (2 years and a few months), how I get my protein (it's insanely easy), and what Brad and I do since he's not a vegetarian (he basically doesn't eat much meat anymore either, because I don't usually make him any, whoops!). But there are some other factors that go into the vegetarianism that I feel like are a little less easy to explain and that I therefore usually avoid mentioning.

For example: Sarah's Philosophy of Eating Things that Once Lived. I'm not really anti meat-eating. I'm anti cruelty and anti sad mass mega unhealthy farming practices where the animals are treated horribly. But I feel like people have been eating animals and animal products for a long, long, long time and that's kind of how the food chain is built (I probably sound like an idiot right now because I'm not, oh, let's just say educated about this stuff). But here's where Sarah's Philosophy kicks in. I know that I could never, under normal life circumstances (who knows what might happen if I were on Flight 815 or something and while I was stranded on my mystery island the only thing I had to eat, pre-Dharma food drop, was fish and fruit), kill an animal. I just couldn't do it. I wouldn't do it. And something feels bad to me about eating something that someone else killed when I know that I couldn't kill that food myself. It's like having someone else do my dirty work.

Then there's the What I Don't Know Probably Would Hurt Me But I'd Rather Not Do the Research and Deal with the Icky Sadness factor. Meaning that if I knew more about what actually goes on in some of these places where animals are raised and slaughtered and all that jazz, I'm pretty sure I would be majorly grossed out and extremely sad about commercialism and cruelty and how messed up the whole food system is, etc. But I kind of don't want to deal with it and any emotional repercussions, so I just assume that I would hate what I'd discover and continue on in blissful ignorance, but still meat-free and therefore guilt-free.

And there are other factors, like what our current system of meat-raising is doing to the environment, and the fact that not eating meat makes it easier to avoid bad fats, and the fact that there are so many vegetarians in the world now that becoming one two years ago seemed really doable. Someday maybe I'll find a way to boil my response down a little, to make it into a little wieldy kernel of wisdom for all of my admirers. In the meantime, I'll keep on responding as I have been for the past two years: with a long, awkward, "Weeelllllllllllllllllllll," many seconds of hesitation, and a quick mental Rolodex-type flip through all my cards of reasons why not to eat meat before I choose the answer of the moment.