To Like or Dislike, That is the Question


I might be old-school, but I don’t care if someone “dislikes” what I write in a text. I don’t care if they “like” it either. It means nothing to me. If they dislike my point, tell me why? I write an opinion, and their obligation should be to either write an opinion that is contrary to mine or tell me why I’m wrong. Within that chain, someone will eventually write, “Well, we’ll have to agree to disagree on this one,” and we’ll move onto discuss whatever trivialities make us friends. How is it that all we have to do now is “dislike” a point? I don’t find “dislike” a quality refutation, but I concede that that I might be old-school. 

If I tried to “dislike” my 8th grade teacher, she’d stop the class and drop the 25th alphabet on me: “Why?” 

“What?”

“Why do you dislike my point?” she would ask. “Why do you disagree with it? Saying that you dislike something someone says, or them for saying it, is not enough. You have to refute their opinion.”  

I understand that some think they’re saving time and space by texting back, “Dislike,” but if I’m going to invest my time and resources into providing a detailed, well-thought-out opinion, the least they could do is invest some time and effort into refuting what I write. 

The modern “dislike” is so narcissistic that it’s almost the imperial equivalent of a king saying, “I am not pleased.” Who gives a crud if you’re not happy with what I wrote? Am I right or wrong? Disprove me. 

“So, you’re telling me that you don’t want to hear my opinion?” they ask if we tell them to drop the dislikes.

“Have you ever told me your opinion?” we ask. “If not, bring it brother. If you need an instrument to help me help you trumpet an opinion, let me know. Right now, all I’m getting is a “dislike” button.”

“Have I offended you?” 

“I’d have to check my log book, but I think the last time someone offended me was about 37 years ago.”

“What did they say?”

“I have a rule,” I said. “Never tell anyone what offends you most, because they will be fixated on that, until they accidentally bring it up. It’s the “don’t think pink” principle. If I tell you to avoid thinking pink, pink will be the only thing on your mind.”

“Well, if I want to avoid offending you, shouldn’t I know what to avoid?”

“Again, I’d have to check my log book, but I think it involved the great Almond Joy/Mounds debate. Some fool stepped up on me telling me that sometimes he feels like a nut and sometimes he don’t. I’ll spare you the profanity that flowed from my mouth, but I will say that I was so out of control that I couldn’t control the spittle that followed it.”

“Really?”

“Like I said, I’m not going to tell you what offends me the most.”

Sports Romance

I love sports, but I no longer I’m no longer in love with sports. We’ve agreed to maintain an amicable relationship for the children, but the unconditional love we once had is gone. 

I can’t remember being so passionate about my team that I dropped all rational thinking, but I’m pretty sure I did, way way back to a time I can’t remember.

A friend of mine remains trapped in the irrational throes of love. “[That player, who committed the infraction,] should be suspended for this season, the next one, and beyond. He basically committed a felony on the ice. That play should be banned from hockey, sports, and life in general.”

“Would your feelings on such a hit be just as intense if one of the players from your favorite franchise committed it?” I asked him. “10 years ago, a cross-check was a cross-check. Everyone was real sad when a player got hurt, but they said, “Unfortunately, it’s part of the game. You’ve gotta keep your head on a swivel.”

“And don’t listen to modern analysts and announcers,” I added. “They’re comparing the cross checker to John Wilkes Booth, as one of the worst villains in human history for a reason. They’re corporate shills following the corporate policy on hits in hockey and football. 

“And I know you’re going to “dislike” my opinion. Save it. I don’t care, unless you want to offer me solid refutation to my point save it.”

The Sports Marriage

At some point in our courtship, we develop unconditional love with our team, its players, and the sport in general. We vow to have and to hold, from this day forward, until death do us part. After we certify that union, we want to know everything we can about our players, and our team. Our passion is no longer limited to plays, stats, and wins and losses. We now want to know if they’re getting along with their wife, and if not, we want to know why? We want to know if he loved his mother, how he played with friends on the playground, in grade school, and what his teammates think of him. I may be old school, but I don’t care about any of the plotlines of the soap opera brought to us by every sports channel on the web, and on TV. I don’t care if his mom cheers him on in the stands, and I don’t care if his parents never attend a game. I don’t care if the cornerback on the other team is a bad guy, or if the long snapper on my team is one hell of a good feller. I understand that the leagues, as good corporate stewards, want to promote and punish their own, for goodwill, but I don’t understand why we the fans care so much about the personal lives of these people. Perhaps we don’t. Perhaps it’s all about filling three hours of pregame shows that I haven’t watched for over a decade now. 

“The NFL analysts are saying that your left guard is so talented he might go in the first round of the NFL draft,” I told a friend of mine, regarding a player on her favorite college football team.

“He’s made over thirty visits to our local Children’s Hospital in just the last year,” she said. 

Now, there aren’t many stats for a left guard in football, so I understand how a pseudo fan would know nothing about them. The left guard never touches the ball, and obviously doesn’t score. His best games are those in which no one ever hears his name (no penalties), when a quarterback is allowed time to pass the ball, and when a running back gets extra yards. When the QB and RB look good, he looks good, but very few fans will ever know his name. Those in the know track how many pressures, hurries, and sacks they allow, and they keep track of how many pancake blocks an offensive lineman makes. They also track how successful a team is running to one side versus the other. She didn’t know any of that. She only knew he was a good fella. 

My prescription for anyone who cares too much about sports, to the point that it affects their relationship with their family, their dogs, and their sanity is to try cheering on a losing franchise for the next forty years. The one great thing about cheering on a team that doesn’t seem to care if they win or lose is that they teach you that unconditional love for a sports’ franchise is pointless and it will inevitably lead to pain. It might take forty years, but everyone has a threshold. Cheering on a losing franchise your whole life can also teach you to invest emotions in the other things life has to offer. You can treat your favorite franchise right by buying up any memorabilia you can find, then wearing it; you watch every game they play in, and scream at the TV; and you can defend their honor when some gob of goo at the end of bar forsakes them with a “dislike”, and it won’t do one damned thing to effect the outcome of their season. If you treat your wife right, however, play with your dog, and spend as much time as you can with the kid, it can pay such huge dividends that it might help offset the unending pain your favorite franchise inflicts on you just about every Sunday in your life.   

Some Rules of the Modern Workplace: Elon Musk


1) It’s very important to like the people you work with, otherwise life and your job is gonna be quite miserable. – Elon Musk

I learned the hard way that when we get into an argument with a co-worker, it can make the work life miserable for as long as that argument lasts. Depending on the work we do, and how often we do it, employment situations can trap us into spending more time with people we can’t stand than those we love. With that in mind, if we get into an argument, we need to forgive and forget with strength.

“I won’t back down,” we say, “and I have a very difficult time admitting I’m wrong, especially when I’m not!” In interoffice squabbles, it really doesn’t matter who’s at fault. No matter how great people are, they will make mistakes, and if we want to be happy in the office, it’s important that we recognize that, especially when we enjoy the work we do.

It can make matters even more difficult when it’s the other party’s fault. If it’s our fault, and we’re living in absolute misery, all we have to do is apologize to end the stupid, irrelevant argument. When the other party refuses to apologize, it lengthens and strengthens the tension. I’ve done the wrong thing so many times that I learned that the best way to end relatively benign interoffice squabbles is to apologize, forgive and forget, and do it with a noteworthy level of strength.

I got into an interoffice squabble with a co-worker, and in this instance, she was in the wrong. She immediately called me to apologize. “I’m going to forgive you and forget this ever happened.” I said that with an unusual (for me) level of anger and force, “and I don’t want to hear your excuses or explanations, so I’m now going to hang up on you now.” I heard her say, “Wait, I just want to say …” before I hung up.

Who says, “I’m going to forgive you” with strength? The source of true power, we all believe, lies in refusing to forgive. We can lord their slip-up over them for weeks, months, and even years, if we do it right. Anyone who has tried to maintain an angry facade knows it can be foolish and a little exhausting. I’m not going to talk to this person at this time when I always do, we think, and when it comes to that party, I’m going to purposely walk by them without saying a word. That will get her. We have to teach people how to treat us, and this is going to extremely effective. There are only so many punctuation marks we can put at the end of a sentence. Do we pound the point home with three proverbial exclamation points, and how often do we do it before they truly understand that we’re mad!!! We’ve all been through these mistakes, and we’ve all missed out on the good times we witness across the party room floor when we see her laughing with the group we’re normally in, but we won’t step foot in because she’s there, and we’re mad at her. A simple, powerful acceptance of an apology can be so shocking that the recipient might repeat what you said in their head a number of times.

This co-worker was a very sweet, young woman who messed up big time. We both knew it, and we both moved on to have a very good relationship in the aftermath.

In another situation, I messed up bad. I was 100% to blame for committing an almost unforgivable transgression against a very sweet co-worker. I called her up the next day and apologized. She, being a very sweet person, offered me all sorts of outs and excuses. “I appreciate what you’re doing here,” I said, “but I’m not going to accept that. I want you to know that what I did was wrong, and I apologize. Full stop.” I allowed a few seconds to tick by, “Now that I’ve apologized in an unequivocable way, let me tell you what I intended to say.” I then told her that, and how it was intended to mimic what she said about herself previously, and how I mangled it up so badly. I told her how I would’ve interpreted what I said, if someone said the same thing about me and how horrible I would’ve felt. She agreed with my summation, and she offered me total and unequivocable forgiveness, and we are good friends to this day.

One of the biggest mistakes I’ve made, in such situations, is to enter into it from a position of weakness. Strength in the face of what should be a weak moment can be surprising, but if we remain strong throughout, we’ll experience long-term dividends for our actions.

Our relationships with our co-workers are just as important as our other relationships. If we want to have a happy work life, we need to work as hard at them as we do all of our other relationships in life, and accepting an apology with force and strength can be as effective as offering a strong, unequivocable apology.

Having said all that, there is a small percentage of horrible people in every walk of life, and some of them seem to enjoy making our lives a living hell. There are some people, as the quote from Cool Hand Luke says, “You just can’t reach. So, you get what we had here last week, which is the way he wants it; well, he gets it.”

2) Failure is an option here. If things are not failing, you are not innovating enough. – Elon Musk

What a great antonym to “failure is not an option.” That famous quote, I think, refers to ultimate or final failure, and I think it fails to leave room for small failings that teach us as we go. Musk’s “Failure is an option” almost liberates those who fail. As with the famous quote, it gives room for some failure, as long as we learn, but some of the times we read “failure it not as option” as a threat to avoid trying new things. Imagine being an employee in an innovative tech company, and your boss has a “failure is not an option” plaque on his desk. We might not try that adventurous idea, because we know it’s fraught with failure, so if failure is not an option, we might not explore the possibilities of our idea. It’s a subtle difference that might not deter a strong mind, but we’re all subjected to the opinions of authority, and we all try to please them in a way that creates vulnerabilities. Am I the right man for such a bold, adventurous idea? What if I fail? Try, fail, learn. How will we ever learn, if we don’t try. How will we ever learn if we don’t fail in the beginning and on the trail every once in a while?

The bassist from The Who, John Entwistle, once said of Jimmy Page’s idea of a New Yardbirds group, “That’s going to go over like a lead balloon.” Jimmy Page loved that condemnation so much he changed the name of his new project to match it. Instead of calling his new project the New Yardbirds. He called it Led Zeppelin.

3) Pay attention to negative feedback and solicit it, particularly from friends. Hardly anyone does that, and it’s incredibly helpful. – Elon Musk

How many of our friends and family tell us that our ideas are destined to fail. Some of them don’t know why we’re destined to fail, they just know a screwy idea when they hear it. Some of them know don’t know what we did wrong, but they know how to fix it. Rather than dismiss them entirely, because they’ve never tried anything so unique, weird, and adventurous, listen to them. In my experience, there’s usually a nugget, a 10% of the 10% advice they give that actually could, slip into your round hole and come out the other side looking quite different and more beautiful.

There is a certain percentage of people who are cheering you on in life. There’s a percentage who envy us, dislike us, and think we’re fools and morons for believing in ourselves in a way they can’t. Our job in life is to find that percentage who believe in us so much that they offer us the type of constructive criticism they think we need. They’re not always right, but their head and heart is in the right place, and if we listen to them often enough, we might find something we can use. It rarely happens in the moment, and some of the times it takes so long to see the merit of what they’re saying we can’t remember who said it, but every once in a while we can find a nugget to chew on.

4) Any product that needs a manual to work is broken. – Elon Musk

As with a joke, if a story requires too much explanation, then it probably wasn’t the Great American Classic we thought it was while writing it.

As someone once said of the great Russian authors. “Yeah, they’re great and all that, but some of the times I read them and think, ‘Just get to the point already.’”

I appreciate the need for character development and setting. Writers need to help us empathize with their character, and we have to be there, but as with everything else there is a tipping point. I’ve read 1,000+ page books, but I’ve rarely read one that couldn’t use at least a little trimming.

5) You shouldn’t do things differently just because they’re different. They need to be… better. – Elon Musk

I began my writing career, trying to be weird for the sole purpose of being weird. My favorite books, music, and movies were weird, and I wanted to explore the deep dark caverns of my mind for the weirdest possible plot lines I could think up.

The problem was no one understood it, and I enjoyed that. It felt great to say, “You just don’t get it,” because that made me feel like a complicated, misunderstood artiste. Yet, I’ve found that if no one understands it, then no one is going to understand it. If this is you, then you’re just writing for yourself. “Right, that’s what I’m going for.” The authors I love all said that, so I said it. Unfortunately, I neglected to learn how to intertwine writing for myself and writing for others. The authors I loved already conquered the latter, so they could go forward writing for themselves.

My advice, don’t forget the context. Context makes your writing so much more entertaining for the reader.

As John Hughes wrote for Steve Martin in Planes, Trains, and Automobiles:

“[In me you’ve] got someone who will listen to your boring stories. I mean, didn’t you notice on the plane when you started talking, eventually I started reading the vomit bag? Didn’t that give you some sort of clue, like hey, maybe this guy is not enjoying it? You know, everything is not an anecdote. You have to discriminate. You choose things that, that are funny or mildly amusing or interesting. You’re a miracle. Your stories have none of that! They’re not even amusing accidentally! “Honey, I’d like you to meet Del Griffith. He’s got some amusing anecdotes for ya. Oh, and here’s a gun so you can blow your brains out. You’ll thank me for it.” I-I could tolerate any, any insurance seminar, for days. I could sit there and listen to them go on and on with a big smile on my face. They’d say, “How can ya stand it?” And I’d say, “‘Cause I’ve been with Del Griffith. I can take anything.” You know what they’d say? They’d say, “I know what you mean. The shower curtain ring guy.” It’s like going on a date with a Chatty Cathy doll. I expect you have a little string on your chest. You know, that I pull out and have to snap back. Except that I wouldn’t pull it out and snap it back, you would. And by the way, you know, when, when you’re telling these little stories, here’s a good idea. Have a point. It makes it so much more interesting for the listener!”

6) I think that’s the single best piece of advice: constantly think about how you could be doing things better and questioning yourself. – Elon Musk

I see articles that provide updates: “Edited on May, 6.” Are we supposed to do that? If I did that, my articles would all be 10,000 words, and most of those 10,000 words would be the notations on all the updates, edits, and revisions. I change everything from the big to the small. I rarely read one of my articles and think that’s just complete. There’s always something to delete or add. I take time away and re-enter with a fresh perspective.

I went to another blog on the subject of errors, rewrites, and editing. Most of the writers wrote that their readers will accept a certain error rate, so they don’t go back to fix their article and correct every stupid, little thing. “Every passionate writer is going to commit some errors, so I don’t go back and edit,” they write. “I leave it raw, as is, and I think my readers understand.”

My first thought was that these people must be way smarter than I am to survive the fear of everyone seeing our there, their and they’re type errors. I see errors in big time writers’ articles every time, and I’m mortified for them. I see errors in my own work, the ones I catch anyway, and I shudder. How many readers saw this, I think. They’ll probably never be back. Every time I write an article, it’s edited at least ten times before I hit publish, then I go back and try to catch whatever errors I missed the first 309,000 times through, and I always find something. I don’t know how these writers, who presumably write something once and never go back, live with that fear that someone out there knows that they’re less than intelligent. All the power to them for being so strong, but I could never do it.  

7) People work better when they know what the goal is and why. It is important that people look forward to coming to work in the morning and enjoy working. – Elon Musk

I went to work for two promising, young companies at different points in my life. The only thing these companies had in common was they didn’t know what they were doing. I found this confusing and exciting when I was younger. I was on the ground floor of a ground-breaking company that would eventually become a Fortune 500 company. The rules would change on almost a weekly basis, and our method of operation, as employees, would have to adjust accordingly.

“This customer is telling me I’m doing it wrong,” I would tell the help desk operator. I called them for nothing more than confirmation of my knowledge.

“You are doing it wrong,” the operator would say. “Check your email from May 23.” The changes were so drastic, so often, that an employee could get dizzy simply sitting in their cubicle desk. Every supervisor and manager said, “The minute you get comfortable with a standard method of operation, it will change.” Working in various cubicles for as many years as I did, I got used to that overused line, but I never worked for a company where that was actually true. It was, as I said, confusing, dizzying, and a little exciting.

I went to work for another promising, young company again, later in life, and I quit quite early on. The sentiment in Musk’s quote was a primary reason why. I didn’t want to go through all that humbling humiliation all over again.

Talk to Food, Like Lovers Do


“He thinks we should talk to our food, to develop a relationship with it that he thinks will ease and aide digestion,” we say. “On the face of it, that seems crazy, but let’s break it down.”

“Who sits there and thinks about how they feel about their food that much?” she says. “I mean, you either eat it or you don’t.”

“You might know how you feel about your food,” we say, “but how does your food feel about you?”

As ridiculous as that joke sounds, neuro-gastroenterologists are now suggesting that our relationship with food is in dire need of an upgrade. How do we enhance our relationship with food? It could be said that we’ve been eating for so long that we forget to appreciate it for what it is. We eat most of the food on auto-pilot. We might appreciate eating a hot, juicy ribeye, our reward for eating fairly well for weeks, but do we appreciate the ham in a ham sandwich? Generally, no, because the only reason we eat a ham sandwich is to quell hunger. Anti-meat eaters have a point, in this sense, when they suggest that we don’t appreciate that an animal had to die for our self-serving desire to nourish ourselves. Some anti-meat eaters say not only do we fail to appreciate the fact that an animal died, we choose to disassociate the slab of meat we eat from the animal. We call a piece of cow beef, a piece of pig is pork, and a domestic bird is poultry. Poultry might be the exception in common parlance, for we rarely ask for poultry from a butcher or a restaurant. We usually say chicken, duck, etc. The point of this disassociation, say anti-meat eaters, is to relieve ourselves of the guilt of eating animals. It might sound foolish since most people over six-years-old know what they’re eating, and we here at Rilaly.com are not suggesting that anyone end or cut back eating meat, but more knowledge about the food we’re eating might serve to aid in digestion.

One of the biggest problems for those who develop such an unhealthy relationship with food to the point that it can lead to an addiction is we need food. We need food to sustain life, we enjoy it so much that we look forward to it, and it’s part of our routines and patterns in life. As such, food provides comfort, and it can ease suffering, but food can also cause suffering. If we eat the wrong things too often, or we eat too much of a good thing, we can experience everything from IBS to constipation, diarrhea, bloating, pain and upset stomach after a night out at the Greazy Dog.

We also link food to relationships in subconscious ways. What did we eat growing up? Did our parents provide us a wide variety of meals on a regular basis, or were they primarily meat and potatoes people? How much do you love that first bite of a quality burger? Is it all about the immediate satisfaction of taste, or are there a big mess of associations going on inside your head? I always wondered why I had an almost romantic relationship with Kentucky Fried Chicken. I’m not going to join the throng who trash on fast food, now that they’ve aged out of it. KFC is not horrible chicken, but I’ve had better. I can’t eat it now without paying dearly for it later, but when I see those iconic red stripes on a bucket, they lead me to feelings of nostalgia. I couldn’t pinpoint it for decades, until one of my relatives informed me that my step-dad used to purchase a big bucket of chicken for my mom and I to woo us. We would go to the park, and I would play after those picnics. I was so young that I don’t remember it, but it was obviously the source of my romantic association with chicken from KFC. I obviously associated that food with a great moment in my life where a man came along to assure us that everything would be ok after my father passed.

***

Researchers at John Hopkins suggest that we have a more conscious relationship with food dictated by our two brains communicating in a biological language on the best ways to use or discard the food.

Our second brain, their research suggests, controls our digestive system. “[It] involves two layers of more than 100 million nerve cells that line our gastrointestinal tract, from our esophagus to our rectum.” They label this second brain the enteric nervous system (ENS).

“The enteric nervous system doesn’t seem capable of thought as we know it, but it communicates back and forth with our big brain—with profound results.”

“[Our two brains form two separate] paths to govern two separate areas of the body. This is where the material changes to form our brain, the central nervous system, and the stomach, the enteric nervous system.

“The interesting aspect of this split revolves around the Vagus Nerve. The Vagus nerve connects the two nervous systems for life. Because of this connection, both the brain and the gut share neurotransmitters and hormones.”

The profound results, they suggest, could lead to anxiety or depression.

“For decades, researchers and doctors thought anxiety and depression contributed to [gastrointestinal] problems. But our studies and others show that it may also be the other way around,” director of the Johns Hopkins Center for Neurogastroenterology Jay Pasricha says. “Researchers are finding evidence that irritation in the gastrointestinal system may send signals to the central nervous system (CNS) that trigger mood changes.

“These new findings may explain why a higher-than-normal percentage of people with IBS and functional bowel problems develop depression and anxiety,” Pasricha adds. “That’s important, because up to 30 to 40 percent of the population has functional bowel problems at some point.”

Some suggest we have a heart brain too, and other specialists suggest the complexities in the system they specialize in might have another brain. Regardless, some scientific research suggests the terms “go with your gut on this one,” “gut-instinct”, and the ever popular “Spidey sense” might have real biological origins.

The ENS (Enteric nervous system) is [also] the reason why you can sense danger. The stomach naturally sends these signals to the brain.”

The first association we made, when learning about our second brain, a third, or numerous brains working in complex orchestral harmony to control and regular basic functions was the octopus. The octopus has a central brain, and each arm is loaded with nerve cells that form a brain of their own, so the octopus technically has nine brains. The latest research suggests that these nine brains have no autonomy. They act in conjunction with the Central Nervous System (CNS) brain, and they are subservient to its cause, but research scientists leave the door open to possible future research findings dictating otherwise. If future findings dictate otherwise, will we find that it’s possible for an octopuses’ seventh arm to refuse the CNS brain’s prime directive in the course of a hunt? “I’m not going into that hole after that crab. Six did that, last Thursday, and he’s experiencing the complex functions in the eel digestive system now. Find another arm to do it.” The nerve cells in our ENS appear subjected to CNS authority in our system, but how would our relationship to food change if we found out that everything from IBS to constipation, diarrhea, bloating, pain and an upset stomach are the ENS brain’s autonomous attempts to rebel against the CNS brain? “We know you love the taste of Indian food, but we’re going to make you pay long-term for your short-term thinking.”

Current research suggests that that does not happen, but disruptions in the gastrointestinal system can affect mood in many ways and vice versa. One such disruption can be caused by the ribeye steak. The instantaneous rewards of taste from the glorious hot and juicy cut of cow are one of the primary reasons some of us enjoy life so much, but it is also a luxury we dare not indulge too often. Why do we limit our ribeye intake? The digestion process can make us miserable.

After we eat a big, huge ribeye, we don’t want to do anything but sit on our coach and watch TV, and we don’t know why. Dieticians suggest that our two brains might not know what to do with it, immediately. “I can feel it,” we say, in the midst of our gastrointestinal misery, “sitting like a rock in my gut.” Gastroenterologists and neuro-gastroenterologists suggest this might not be a bad description for what’s happening, and its connection to our overall misery might be more direct than we ever considered before.

With all these relationships between us and food, and between our two brains trying to complete complex functions, how do we upgrade our relationships? The first thing they suggest we try is slowing down. No matter how beautiful that sizzling slab of meat on our plate appears, we need to slow down when we eat it. Cut off one small bite, and chew it thoroughly while doing something else. We might want to take one small bite and finish cutting the rest of the meat, or we might want to eat something else for a little bit, before indulging. Every suggestion we’ve found is that we don’t have to wait long. Our two brains know the sights, sounds, and the smell of the ribeye has us slobbering out the corners of our mouth, but they’re suggestion is that we slow down just a little. We need to give our brains enough time to develop an attack plan of easier digestion.

Do the brain(s?) need enough time identify the food, process the information, and develop a proper plan for digestion, or could this be an exaggerated, overly detailed description they use to try to convince us to slow down while eating.

The process, regardless how we choose to interpret it, falls under the intuitive eating umbrella. Everyone knows we need food to sustain life, and that certain foods can provide greater health than others. Those of us who have been eating for a while now have noticed that the better food tastes the worse it is for you and vice versa. There are no direct correlations that we can graph, of course, but it feels like a pretty substantial, and general, rule of thumb.

While the incredibly tasty ribeye steak has healthy benefits, including protein, fat, vitamins and minerals, it’s taxing effects on the digestive system can be extreme. Ask anyone who has accidentally eaten a hot, juicy ribeye too quick, because they were so excited, and they’ll tell you how miserable their next couple hours were. Ask anyone who attempted to play a sport after eating a ribeye, and they’ll tell us it’s almost impossible to achieve a peak performance.

That’s due in part to the digestive system having such a tough time digesting it. The process can prove so difficult, at times, it saps our energy, and it can even prove painful. Perhaps this is why Lions on the Serengeti sleep for about 12 hours after devouring a wildebeest.

A little bit of mindfulness can aid in the process of digestion. What are we eating, are we employing a disciplined measure of moderation, and how slow are we eating it? To this point, the information these sites provide is relatively rational and thought-provoking, but as with every discussion of this nature, some take it to extremes.

Talk to our food? The idea of talking to it for any reason, seems so silly that this has to be a comedy. Unless, the question they’re trying answer for us involves building a better relationship with what we put into our body?

“Who sits there and thinks about how they feel about their food that much?” my friend asked. “I mean, you either eat it or you don’t.” I might’ve said the same thing as a knee-jerk reaction to people speaking to food, learning more about it, and the various relationships we’re discussing here. Yet, our greatest attempt at nonpartisanship on this particular question asks if we can better inform our ENS and CNS brains on proper digestion. Do we say the same things to the muffin and the asparagus? We assume they speak English, but is that assumption akin to some form of jingoism?

There are probably people who actually speak to food, but what are they saying? Are they talking to the food to find out about it? Are they trying to make better food choices? Or, are they discussing the benefits of slowing down? Regardless, I do think there are benefits to learning more about food, slowing down, and thinking about the various relationships between the ENS and CNS brains, even if this involves, for most of us anyway, a one-way conversation.