Not Just Gristlin' Dixie

Satire

In these trying economic times, consumers are going downscale across the board: prom dresses bought at Wal-Mart, coffee over latte, and, most recently one idea from local entrepreneur David Bronson that has caught the meat world by storm.

Bronson has opened a chain of food kiosks that serve only gristle. Starting with only a single cart last fall, in downtown Boston, Gristlin’ Dixie has recently opened 5 kiosks in New York city, in addition to kiosks in Chicago, San Francisco, Seattle and McPherson, KS (“There was a market,” said Bronson).

The newly unemployed find the food unpretentious and full of value. “I’ve actually come to prefer the gristle over fresh sushi,” said Tom Montgomery, a former investment banker. “I just pretend it’s protein flavored gum.”

“It’s the real deal – it tastes like survival,” said Jared Morgan, a college sophomore. “I mean, my parents cut me off after my dad got laid off, but ‘Gristlin’ Dixies [sic], man this place rocks!”

“The gristle industry had nowhere to go but up,” said meat industry analyst Damon Magliape. “Gristle is the ultimate untapped commodity with a bad reputation.”

Even Madonna has to be pleased that gristle is now a delicacy.

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My Stimulus Proposal

To Whom It May Concern:

I am a financial institution on the brink of insolvency.

How, you may ask, can one man be a financial institution?

It all started when I loaned my cousin Henry, only those who don’t know him very well call him Hank, $150 to buy a guitar back in high school. Henry wanted to get chicks, and he thought starting a rock band and playing guitar like Eddie Van Halen would be the way to go. Henry only bothered to learn a half a Zeppelin riff (“Whole Lotta Love”), then borrowed another $300 to buy a used Camaro that was supposed to be in great shape, with the promise that I would get some chicks, too. Chicks wouldn’t get into a Camaro with a guy named Henry.

Word of my financial solvency soon reached other members of the family. I loaned money to bankroll cemetery plots for my grandparents, a start-up internet company run by my Uncle Ray – a web page that said “You Suck” and was destined to generate millions of dollars in ad revenue - beachfront property in the Yukon, and a few thousand for my Uncle Ned’s very promising investment opportunity with a Nigerian prince and financier.

Needless to say, I have not seen the returns on any of these investments. Henry’s cheap guitar sits in my basement. I’m holding onto it to get the full value. The Camaro sits on cinder blocks in my backyard. The beach has failed to materialize in the Yukon. Uncle Ray refused to pay the loan and I no have owned the “You Suck” website for 9 years, and haven’t seen a dime of ad revenue. I’ve been thinking of expanding the site. Uncle Ned still needs another $2,000 to get a piece of that $15 million in Nigeria.

I’ve been charging my family members $10 to go visit my grandparents gravesite. So far I’ve made $15 off this venture. (Cousin Henry gave me $5 and kept his hand over his right eye during his visit).

So there you have it: a 30 year old Camaro, an out of tune guitar that’s never had new strings, beachfront property in the Yukon, a website that says “You Suck,” cemetery plots and a share of a Nigerian fortune. All of these assets have serious upside, but I simply don’t have the capital to keep funding my family’s entrepreneurial spirit. A stimulus check in the amount of $2 billion would keep me solvent until that ad revenue picks up.

Yours,

Charles F. Blumenthal

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