Good Lord Have Pity On Me -I'm a Junk Food Junky
01-06-06, 11:21 AM

One day out of the week, I fail. I go out to a bar seeking conversation and hopefully companionship but end-up looking through the bottom of the bottle. Last night was the night. With my judgment impaired and needing some lovin�, but did it have to be you?

After two drinks at Happy Hour then driving home, I saw the golden arches. Instantly, there was some sort of chemical dependency reaction established from years of abuse from visiting the �Clown�, my pusher known as MacRonald. With his years of prodding, I indulged on salt, french fries deep-friend in bubbling beef fat and ground moo-cows served on a bun that created a junk food addiction.

It couldn�t have been the two beers that caused the car to steer into Mac Ronald�s parking lot and to the �drive-thru� window: causing me to order the left side of the menu. Obviously and without a doubt, in order to correctly place blame, it must have been the years of dependency that began in childhood and up until a year or so ago where I was a closet junky hooked on the burger pushed by the Clown -- first with Joyful Meals. Then as I grew older, the Clown whispered in a jazzy voice, �The 'Hot' stays hot, the 'Cool' stays cool," as he pimped the new alternative, Mic Leens. Being a sheep herded and tended by Madison Avenue, I wanted to be 'hip and cool' and this became my new drug of choice, my new crack, but not as quite good as the ole standbys. It was a fad. Soon after, the Clown enticed me with salads disguised as shakes, grilled chicken sandwiches loaded with Mayo and, most recently, with fresh deli sandwiches � all nearly equal in fat, the secret chemical ingredient to hook y�a. Even with my new clean and sober, low-fat, healthy lifestyle, last night I didn�t stand a chance against my �Dealer�, Mac Ronald, because he lurks at nearly every street corner waiting for a vulnerable moment such as this.

This morning, I hate myself because last night, I sought lovin� from a greasy Pounder with Cheese, fries and a sugary, caffeinated Coke. The whorish, "Dollar Trick Menu" was too inviting and easy, �Throw in a Mac Chicky as well!� On the family room floor, I sat with a dog to each side patiently waiting for a contact high by a fry tossed in their direction.

How can I look myself in the mirror after all those miles I�ve run to get into shape? As I rub my eyes waking from the haze, there is the realization that I, in fact, ate tawdry foods. I didn�t imagine it, nor dreamt it. Last night with my guilty pleasure indulged, evidence remained of a grease, stained paper bag and hamburger wrappers strewn about the room, like used condoms and clothes on the ground after a sweaty, sexual encounter with a homely woman picked-up in bar whose cheap, perfumed body leaves oily stains upon the wall.

Someday, I�ll figure how to add music clips to my journal but for now, I�m reminded of the 1976 Larry Grocce hit, �Junk Food Junky�. If you have the time, search for it on the net for a quick listen.

Written by Larry Grocce:

�You know I love that organic cooking
I always ask for more
And they call me Mr Natural
On down to the health food store
I only eat good sea salt
White sugar don't touch my lips
And my friends is always begging me
To take them on macrobiotic trips
Yes, they are

Oh, but at night I stake out my strong box
That I keep under lock and key
And I take it off to my closet
Where nobody else can see
I open that door so slowly
Take a peek up north and south
Then I pull out a Hostess Twinkie
And I pop it in my mouth

Yeah, in the daytime I'm Mr Natural
Just as healthy as I can be
But at night I'm a junk food junkie
Good lord have pity on me

Well, at lunchtime you can always find me
At the Whole Earth Vitamin Bar
Just sucking on my plain white yogurt
From my hand thrown pottery jar
And sippin' a little hand pressed cider
With a carrot stick for dessert
And wiping my face in a natural way
On the sleeve of my peasant shirt
Oh, yeah

Ah, but when that clock strikes midnight
And I'm all by myself
I work that combination on my secret hideaway shelf
And I pull out some Fritos corn chips
Dr Pepper and an ole Moon Pie
Then I sit back in glorious expectation
Of a genuine junk food high

Oh yeah, in the daytime I'm Mr. Natural
Just as healthy as I can be
Oh, but at night I'm a junk food junkie
Good lord have pity on me

My friends down at the commune
They think I'm pretty neat
Oh, I don't know nothing about arts and crafts
But I give 'em all something to eat
I'm a friend to old Euell Gibbons
And I only eat home grown spice
I got a John Keats autographed Grecian urn
Filled up with my brown rice
Yes, I do

Oh, folks but lately I have been spotted
With a Big Mac on my breath
Stumbling into a Colonel Sanders
With a face as white as death
I'm afraid someday they'll find me
Just stretched out on my bed
With a handful of Pringles potato chips
And a Ding Dong by my head

In the daytime I'm Mr Natural
Just as healthy as I can be
But at night I'm a junk food junkie
Good lord have pity on me�

Yesterday - Tomorrow