Food for thought.

Today, let us talk lettuce, people.

Not your average conversation, I take it. I don't even like lettuce, but I'll riff about it. Sure.

Oh, I get it, you're wondering what I could say about lettuce that could be so enthralling and entertaining, right? Well, you may be right in thinking that, afterall, not many could pull off a discourse involving lettuce.

I came across the idea a while ago at a local bar while attending a trivia night. The question came up what food had been aptly renamed because of it's cool, crispy texture.

Not just lettuce, but Iceberg lettuce from what was previously titled Crispehead lettuce. I wondered to myself, that's an interesting renaming, so I looked it up.

Back in the 1930's this guy started sending shizerloads of this green business across the country, protected by ice on top. When the trucks came in, supposedly, people would yell, "The icebergs are here" a la Paul Rivere's famous phrase warning tea sipping of the Redcoats or British (which I still like to translate his words into modern Bostonian speak, "Hea come dose queers").

I hardly believe people couldn't wait to have this tasteless lettuce arrive at their doorstep, let alone have a nickname for it. So I got to wordering some more.

My conclusion is a conspiracy theory, but a theory nonetheless. I believe some sick bastard was talking some seriously ill will about lettuce and compared the crunchiness to the sound made when the Titanic first made impact with an iceberg. In his pretend words, I believe he said: "Every time, I bite I envision people sliding down the edge of the boat, ya know? But without the screaming and stuff."

After a while the phrase caught on, like all do. We call this guy "Wobbles" at Beef Barn, because of the way he walks. He's a big dude, so it's funny. It's even more funny when we call him it and 2he thinks we're calling him by his real name, which happens to be Bobby.

Now, granted, the guy that came up with Iceberg lettuce's name was probably knee slapping his way to the bank for a long time, but nowadays he's probably in a grave somewhere. Can't we rename this pathetically tasting part of our diets?

You have to admit, Crispehead isn't that bad in itself.


The forgotten part of my blog:
1. More food for thought: The difference between a western omelette and an eastern is peppers. Is that because peppers don't grow in the east or something? Or was somebody just too lazy to name it correctly?
2. Instead of saying pina coladas, I chose to say Pinas, which turned into a million puns involving the word penis.
4. screw 3.
5. When I see loud, giggly little girls, I think to myself, "Oh, dear god. That could be the next Ayiia from Real World 33 in Cancun."
6. On my run today I saw a guy from behind that was walking like a zombie. I balked at the opportunity to twist his head right off his shoulders.
7. Now that I think of it, Zombie movies are completely unrealistic. They move to slow, they're too weak to push their way out of their own six foot deep grave. Oh, and they're dead, and never coming back to life. Just a minor detail.
8. It's inevitable: every chick my age reads those Twilight novels, therefore I must condone the reading of them, else I be single forever.