Monday, August 07, 2006
The Stinking Rose and I
A few years ago there was a magazine called Mostly Garlic. It didn't last very long. I guess it's hard to make any money publishing a magazine about herbs -- High Times notwithstanding. But before they became defunct I sold the magazine the following article:
IT’S AN ILL WIND – OR IS IT?
Americans are all so sensitive and politically correct nowadays that the only people you can make fun of with impunity are blondes, Kathy Lee Gifford and garlic eaters. Or hadn’t you noticed that whenever time garlic is mentioned on television or in the movies it’s always in a negative way, usually as a setup for a cheap garlic-breath joke.
Well, guess what. Pamela Anderson Lee notwithstanding, there are some bright blondes. Kathy Lee does not own slaves or have any more to do with her clothing line’s manufacture than Michael Jordan does with Nike’s. And there are a lot worse things you can do your breath than eat garlic.
I’ve put up with this thinly-veiled hostility for as long as I’m going to. No longer will I laugh sheepishly at the jokes putting down my funky-breathed brethren. Before we garlic-eaters are banished to the outdoors with the cigarette smokers and the bag ladies, I’m drawing a line in the sativum.
Say it loud! I reek and I’m proud.
That’s right; I have garlic breath, and I love having it. Not only do I not think there’s anything aromatically unappetizing about it, I wish everyone had it. That way I’d know you were enjoying garlic the way you’re supposed to – on everything from breakfast to dessert. I wouldn’t have to worry about vampires snatching you away. Plus I’d get to enjoy your exhalations.
You heard me right. I love garlic breath so much I’ll take it any way I get it – directly from garlic or my paramour’s palate. Yes, call me “Second-Hand Stinking Rose.” Call me what you like; I am not ashamed to say that I am a connoisseur of garlic breath.
Don’t get me wrong. I do not enjoy or appreciate halitosis. If you’ve been smoking cigarettes, eating pickles or – my own personal least favorite – drinking coffee, I will not be lining up at your kissing booth. (However I may later make jokes about your bland breath with my fellow radical garlic breathers.)
I can’t wait for the day when we abandon this unfounded prejudice, and realize that garlic on the breath adds character to one’s exhalations. It’s sort of like a perfume in that it doesn’t smell the same on any two respiratory systems.
Unfortunately good garlic breath is getting hard to find these days. I know plenty of garlic eaters, many of them potentially kissable, but I don’t know many who don’t immediately rush off after a meal to brush their teeth or gargle (which only makes things worse, garlic breath is much preferable to Listerine breath) or munch down parsley like a stoned bunny rabbit.
It’s gotten so bad I had to put an ad in the personal column:
SWM ISO SF. Age and weight and IQ unimportant. Sense of humor not
necessary. Must have GB.
It got results but the single female who responded came to my door not with garlic breath but with her gay boyfriend. I couldn’t think of anything else to do so I served garlic gazpacho and we played Scrabble.
It doesn’t have to be this way. The next time someone makes a joke about garlic breath don’t laugh, enlighten the poor fool. And when you’re around me remember three things:
1. Eat lots of garlic.
2. Don’t brush.
3. Kiss me.
1. Eat lots of garlic.
2. Don’t brush
3. Kiss me.
(I repeated the instructions for all the blondes in the audience.)