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I'm writing my regular blog at felixperegrino.com now, but I composed this post to an e-mail discussion group about food, and I liked it enough to wanna save it to look at occasionally, so I'm putting it here for safekeeping.
Hi David,
I'm not wealthy enough to be that picky. Some people got phobias about metals. Not me. I was raised outta cast-iron pots and drank raw milk and spring water out of galvanized pails. Even now, infrequently, I use silver and copper colloids internally. I normally take dietary supplements with other metals in them every day, that is, if I'm holding.
I do got phobias about plastics. How could a non-nerd like me possibly discern what's "food-grade" about plastic containers or no? I don't trust labels. Why would I? I wield them too carelessly myself. I ain't no walking encyclopedia about the chemical makeup of most ceramic glazes either. Moreover, all kinds of wooden utensils retain weird residuals that might be the death of me.
In the past, as a homeless bum who might not have eaten for a week nor had a safe place to sleep for longer, upon encounter, I got less and less picky about what's wot with each passing moment. I don't even wanna remember what I et then nor the despicable acts I may have performed as I lay dying. '-)
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I do not attempt to tell the God's own truth here because I don't know what the truth is or hardly ever. I try to capture the drifting thoughts that randomly appear in my imagination for reasons I may not understand. I don't know if the content I capture with these words is true or false. The Comments settings are turned off to prevent me from having to defend what amounts to little more than fanciful, sometime crude speculation. Great moments in our lives never return.
