This poem is based on a true story.
Back when I was travelling, much of it was done with various groups of people an much of it involved camping. When you are travelling and camping in groups it's customary to take turns with the chores, including cooking. One thing that can present difficulties is vegetarians.
Don't get me wrong. I have nothing at all against vegetarians. They are splendid people. Salt of the Earth. Some of my best friends... and so on and so forth.
But they do make life a little harder at camp when you have a stove with one burner and need to cook separate meals for them. Still, that's life.
What I did object to were part-time vegetarians. Vegetarians who scorned all meat unless, for reasons known only to themselves, they suddenly thought that the sausages looked too tasty to ignore and then felt that this temporary change of heart meant it was OK for them to take the meat and leave the vegetable option for the chef to eat.
It's happened pretty much every time I've ever camped in a large group. I recall a particularly galling occasion in Bariloche, in Argentina - a country that could certainly not be called vegetarian friendly. Those of us due to do the cooking had found it very difficult to buy some food for our group's brace of alleged vegetarians but the pleasant, almost Alpine-looking, town, we set about cooking the requisite two sets of different meals only to have both of the non-meat-eaters come in and help themselves to the meat dishes leaving us with the rice and vegetable concoction.
We weren't best pleased.
This poem is dedicated to them.
Part-Time Vegetarians
At camp, when you’re cooking a meal
Of sausages, bacon and beans
There will always be some there who feel
That people should only eat greens.
So for them in a separate pan
You cook vegeburgers with rice
Then they stroll up and scupper your plan
By saying, “That sausage looks nice.”
Then they pick up a fork and a plate
And say, “Well perhaps just tonight!”
And, before there is time to debate,
Have grabbed one and taken a bite.
But of course now there isn’t enough
For everyone else to have meat.
Vegeburgers are unpleasant stuff,
If not what you’re expecting to eat.
With a great deal of mumbling and cursing,
You serve up the meal to the rest
And, when you have finished disbursing,
Stand there just feeling depressed.
Because someone who says he shuns meat
Has tonight let his principles fall,
And decided it’s OK to cheat,
You have the worst meal of them all
Vegetarians can’t be part time.
As a concept it doesn’t make sense.
It’s quite without reason or rhyme.
You simply can’t sit on the fence.
Either you is or you ain’t
There are only two sides to the deal
It’s too late to make a complaint
When the chef’s started cooking the meal.
Back when I was travelling, much of it was done with various groups of people an much of it involved camping. When you are travelling and camping in groups it's customary to take turns with the chores, including cooking. One thing that can present difficulties is vegetarians.
Don't get me wrong. I have nothing at all against vegetarians. They are splendid people. Salt of the Earth. Some of my best friends... and so on and so forth.
But they do make life a little harder at camp when you have a stove with one burner and need to cook separate meals for them. Still, that's life.
What I did object to were part-time vegetarians. Vegetarians who scorned all meat unless, for reasons known only to themselves, they suddenly thought that the sausages looked too tasty to ignore and then felt that this temporary change of heart meant it was OK for them to take the meat and leave the vegetable option for the chef to eat.
It's happened pretty much every time I've ever camped in a large group. I recall a particularly galling occasion in Bariloche, in Argentina - a country that could certainly not be called vegetarian friendly. Those of us due to do the cooking had found it very difficult to buy some food for our group's brace of alleged vegetarians but the pleasant, almost Alpine-looking, town, we set about cooking the requisite two sets of different meals only to have both of the non-meat-eaters come in and help themselves to the meat dishes leaving us with the rice and vegetable concoction.
We weren't best pleased.
This poem is dedicated to them.
Part-Time Vegetarians
At camp, when you’re cooking a meal
Of sausages, bacon and beans
There will always be some there who feel
That people should only eat greens.
So for them in a separate pan
You cook vegeburgers with rice
Then they stroll up and scupper your plan
By saying, “That sausage looks nice.”
Then they pick up a fork and a plate
And say, “Well perhaps just tonight!”
And, before there is time to debate,
Have grabbed one and taken a bite.
But of course now there isn’t enough
For everyone else to have meat.
Vegeburgers are unpleasant stuff,
If not what you’re expecting to eat.
With a great deal of mumbling and cursing,
You serve up the meal to the rest
And, when you have finished disbursing,
Stand there just feeling depressed.
Because someone who says he shuns meat
Has tonight let his principles fall,
And decided it’s OK to cheat,
You have the worst meal of them all
Vegetarians can’t be part time.
As a concept it doesn’t make sense.
It’s quite without reason or rhyme.
You simply can’t sit on the fence.
Either you is or you ain’t
There are only two sides to the deal
It’s too late to make a complaint
When the chef’s started cooking the meal.
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