Frankly, my dear, I don't give a Spam.

Kim Kardashian and Kanye West finally wed.
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Yup.  Can we move on now?  I would rather discuss something much more interesting.  Let's talk about Spam.

Spam has a fascinating history.  It is a "precooked meat product" invented by Hormel Foods in 1937.  It's ingredients include pork shoulder and ham mixed with potato starch, salt and preservatives.  It was widely distributed in WWII because it was so much easier to get a can of ham to the front lines than the whole pig.  After WWII Hormel organized a troupe of servicewomen to tour the country and promote the product.  The Hormel Girls had a radio show and a 16 piece orchestra to sing Spam's praises.  Today Hawaii has the largest per capita consumption of Spam in the United States and Hawaii, Guam, and the Marianna Islands have the only McDonald's with Spam on the menu.  It can be used in many recipes and in a variety of ways.  I have eaten the most delicious sushi rolls made with Spam.

So why the bad rap?  Spam gets no respect in the continental US.  It's mocked as "mystery meat" and looked down upon as poor man's food.  We even call unwanted email "spam."  What's going on?  I suspect it's the can.  You see, we know that meat doesn't really come in a can.  It seems fake, artificial, kind of rubbery or plastic.  It's coated in a gelatinous glaze, called aspic, which is a natural result of cooling meat stock.  Yet when we see that glaze we think, "Pigs don't have that.  And neither do chickens!"  Even though Spam can be dressed up into any number of delightful dishes, we don't really trust it.

Just like celebrity weddings.  The bride can have the biggest of diamonds, a Givenchy gown.  The groom can wear a custom designer tux and arrive in a Bugatti.  Throw in an exotic locale, let's say a private Caribbean island, or hey, even Florence, famous guests, outrageous quantities of food and drink, and we don't really trust it.  We can tell it's canned.  Everyone smiles, everyone claims to be "so happy."  Nonsensical platitudes spring from the mouths of well-wishers like daisies from graves; "They're so in love!  This is forever!  Soul-mates!"  We eyeball it suspiciously.  All this joy looks an awful lot like gelatinous glaze.

I've seen true joy.  It looks like a husband and wife, worried about finances, but trusting in each other that they will find a way.  It looks like a wonderful, weary mom who has just given birth to child number five because "there is always room for one more!"  It looks like children lovingly caring for parents with Alzheimer's.  It looks like neighbors helping to rebuild after a devastating tornado.  It looks like true friends helping a recovering addict or victim of abuse.  Conspicuously absent is the fame, the stardom, the glamor and glitz, the magazine covers.  True joy is the reward for persevering through hard work and great trials.  You can't buy it in a can.

Spam has a shelf life of 2-5 years.  Kim and Kanye, the clock is ticking...

Here is my tribute to the lovely couple, "It Must be Love!"