Far Away and Far Ahead

This is a faraway place. It is far away from my home and from my family. It is that second part that is worse for me.

It is not ‘far away’ in terms of huge distances but it is too far to go home each evening; thus I am deposited in a hotel.

The hotel is adequate. If I am to be fair I will say that it is more than adequate. The food is excellent, the rooms are clean and the bed is comfortable. The TV coverage is a little sparse but that is, probably, only to be expected of hotel TV’s.

There is internet but it is so slow that the computer tells me that I am not connected to it or that the server for the page I want is ‘not responding’!

The staff tell me that if I go to the café there will be better access to the internet. Possibly there is but the café has a buffet in the evenings. I have seen it. It is magnificent.

There is a danger that I should overeat if I go there and then not be able to sleep at night.

Then I should, very likely, become even fatter.

The doctor, who is a really lovely man for whom I have the greatest respect, told me that there are certain foods I should, at my age, avoid.

It seems to me that the foods to be avoided are all those dishes that one eats in total enjoyment.

You will be familiar with that feeling of pleasure and contentment when certain choice morsels cross your lips and hit the tongue.

Malaysia, where I live, is full to the brim with such wonderful tastes.

Doctor tells me not to eat them. They are, he says, if not actually inimical to my health then dangerous to a high degree.

What is left?

The tasteless, the bland, the pap. That is what remains.

What to do? Spend the rest of my, now lengthened, life in misery watching others masticate the choicest morsels while I eat gruel and porridge? Not, I add quickly, that there is anything wrong with either gruel or porridge cooked correctly; but, taken as a sole diet after sampling the treats on display they could get somewhat boring.

The alternative?

Eat everything and live a shorter life that is full of joy and pleasure.

The doctor and I have now come, I do believe, to some sort of agreement. The root of it is that I shall eat what I like and then, should I become ill, he will fix it.

He gets paid for this so we will both be happy.

Failing that I shall be dead but, then, we all have to go at some point—nobody, as they say, gets out of this alive!

One wonders how this thought will extend into the future. There is a loud calling for people to eat more vegetables. Perhaps this is to the extent of eating exclusively vegetation. The thinking seems to be that growing plants is a more efficient method of using the available land than using animals to process the plants into meat.

Will our space pilots of the future be exploring the wide black yonder on a diet of rice, maize, alfalfa and soybean? Perhaps they will, after a time, phase out the pseudo-meat flavoured soya products and make pretend broccoli instead.

Were does it end. No more fried eggs for breakfast? If there’s no veal and no beef from whence do we get our milk? Soya milk is very nice but it gives me terrible gas!

It is said that there is not much that is worse than a fart in a spacesuit! Can you imagine a ship with a soya fed crew?

 Hopefully there will also be no smokers, “Don’t light that…”