Dear sweet Jesus and all the blessed saints.

I mean, gosh couldn't NPR have picked a different family to highlight rising food costs? Surely this story packed more oomph on radio:

For Some Ohioans, Even Meat Is Out Of Reach

. . . Nunez and most of her siblings and their spouses are unemployed and rely on government assistance and food stamps. Some have part-time jobs, but working is made more difficult with no car or public transportation. . .

. . .The rising cost of food means their money gets them about a third fewer bags of groceries — $100 used to buy about 12 bags of groceries, but now it's more like seven or eight. So they cut back on expensive items like meat, and they don't buy extras like ice cream anymore. Instead, they eat a lot of starches like potatoes and noodles.

Apparently. A waddling advertisement for low-carb diets. Maybe having to walk places and cutting back on groceries isn't such a bad thing.

For some Ohioans, toes are out of reach.

Does make you wonder who at NPR made the decision to run with photos of those particular individuals to illustrate their story.

I do understand, however, that typical diets of low income families tend to emphasize simple carbs and fats, to the detriment of waistlines, not to mention general health.

On the cover of The Guiness Book of World Records. You're right, of course, that lots of bread and pasta and potatoes tend to thicken the waist, but it can't possibly explain this.

I'm just thinking about all those who were listening to the radio on their way home from work, earnestly empathizing with the plight of this poor starving family.

The Boston Irish and Italians during the Great Depression and WWII (when meat was rationed)?

At the Home of Katie O'Brien we got.

Wonder Bread, that white paste formed into squares, slathered with butter. Fried potatoes for breakfast, warmed over mashed potatoes for lunch, more mashed potatoes cooked in butter and covered with butter at the table. Washed down with warm beer.

At the Home of La Bella Madona we find

Seventeen different forms of pasta from spaghetti and marcaroni to little sea shell-like delights covered with cheese, tomato sauces of every description. Washed down with warm red wine.

Something unique to one and all in those days. We walked and ran to the bus or trolley car stop. We walked or ran to the neighborhood schools. No TV to watch, no video games to play, we were forced to play baseball, dodge, stick ball, kick the can, hide and go seek. Some even jumped ropes and rode bikes. We packed away the calories but we sure burned them off during the daylight hours.

And now?

Cheers.

I'm pretty sure there are two grocery stores within 1.5 miles of where they live. One is .25 miles from where they live.

They're right about the job market there. It's worse than dismal. That town's been in a spiral for years. Hoping the Poet Plant brings some help.

Heck, I didn't mean to threaten them. Or even frighten them. They can't run all that fast.

I loved not having a car in Chicago. Two grocery stores, three liquor stores, five dry-cleaners and six sushi restaurants within easy walking. Plus a zoo and a beach without breaking much of a sweat.

I'm afraid yet curious to learn. What is the Poet Plant? Feel free to begin with "so glad you asked". Heck, I don't mind being manipulated.

It is any coincidence that there is a WeightWatchers advert on the right side of my screen at this moment?

to be about "Spam the Ham what am" that fat, greasy, obnoxious stuff that comes in a can.

Another time.

the bacon,egg, sausage and spam. That's not got much spam in it.

...that wouldn't be cruel or obnoxious. And we really shouldn't make fun of fat people. So I want it noted that I did not make a joke about spam.

You loved not having a car in Chicago. You would slit your throat without a car in Fostoria. There's no escape. You can't walk anywhere interesting (apart from the aforementioned grocers), heck, even Amtrak quit going there. There are some beautiful old homes, remnants of the oil/gas and glassmaking boom.

The Poet Plant will produce ethanol, natch.

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Keep telling those stories because this generation is very, very spoiled. I heard those when I was a kid and lived them for a while. All of this has been the fault of easy money, fake money, money based upon cheap credit. Milton Friedman has a little woody somewhere thinking about all this waste and greed.