Eat Cancer in Our Lifetime

Copyright 2008 Ben S. Pollock

One of the outcomes of a Democratic presidential victory come November likely will be national health care sooner not later. And one of the outcomes of national health care will be a sudden and welcome drop in pretentious fundraisers.

Nearly nine years ago I wrote an offensive column. I apologized on the phone to a few people, as well as in a paragraph at the end of the next column. Many professional columnists I know would have shrugged the whole thing off, with apologies only if their editors insisted. Yet, I did feel bad for offending well-meaning people in what I thought was a balanced, droll review of a popular annual fundraiser. (I will not post the column. It must have been poorly done. If I had been better, everyone would have gotten the point, meaning canceled subscripts not a handful of offended, influential people.)

Three years ago, My Beloved bought a new dress and I had my tuxedo cleaned (yes, I own one from years when I was active in community bands, the last being the Arkansas Winds) for the region’s Heart Association Ball. MB had done some volunteer work for it so we bought tickets and saw live what High Pro covers. We enjoyed our table conversation. But the band was barely adequate (Memphis, not local), the food both mediocre and excessive. We should have mailed the association the cost of the tickets and instead had the table mates over to our Shady Hill manse for dessert and board games. In any case, the thousands of dollars raised paid for a week of research, or direct-mail solicitation costs.

Things like this remind me of what my Uncle Al “George” Pollock said almost every time he took Aunt Helen to the newest restaurant in Fort Smith: “We went there twice last night, our first time and our last time.”

We forgot our lesson. A few weeks ago MB and I endured our first and last visit to the Le Chocolate Feast. (That’s Marketese for “le chocolat fete”) For $10 a person — admittedly we got passes from work — we spent a Saturday afternoon at Northwest Arkansas Mall, but not shopping, for we would have lost our place in one of two extraordinarily long lines, all to benefit NARTI, North Arkansas Radiation Therapy Institute.

In this world we always will have the poor and infirm. Charity always will be needed. Even the best national health care will have gaps for which non-profits will be needed. Donations also will be helpful for things like botanic gardens.

But let’s pray to the good Lord we don’t have to stand in line with a lot of do-gooders in their we’re-going-to-Target-after-this jeans whose frowns gradually increase in the 45 minutes to get the first punch on their itemized ticket. Our wait actually was pleasant because we came in with a couple whom we had for brunch at the house first.

Our line offered chocolate cupcakes from Rick’s Bakery (best thing there), brownies from Chick-fil-A (to me, blander than Little Debby’s but one friend liked them), chocolate-caramel-cherry popcorn, Haagen Daz mint-chip ice cream (served in a souvenir scoop!), chocolate truffles. …

Most of the herd then moved on to waiting 45 minutes in the second line. Our friends didn’t; the couple had things to do elsewhere. MB and I walked our desserts off with a stroll along the easy two sides of Lake Fayetteville.

The best thing about “The Chocolat Fete” was our pair of comrades. The man managed to persuade me of to read some Cormac McCarthy. Hundreds of people were there. It was well-organized; every few yards stood chicly dressed volunteers who asked for feedback and questions but never were prepared for either.

How can Campbell Soup sponsor heart health when their regular soups are loaded with salt, and their low-salt ones have contradictory items like high-fructose corn syrup to make up the flavor? How can you help low-income cancer patients by loading up on pastries either full of butter and sugar or wholesale food-service ingredients that taste something like butter and sugar?

We can beat this thing. Maybe as soon as November. Let’s eat cancer in our lifetime. -30-