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Show The Daily Utah Chronicle Openings 1978 Page S Thirty-Thre- e c G ; o ? O G Q C C Q TBI. J X This man and the window behind him have been bombarded with a heavy hit of spaghetti, a favorite form of artillery among food fighters. Lynn Sugar-nu- If you can eat it or wear it , throwit RATTLE Chronicle staff A stellar moment in American film occurs when John Belushi, star of National Lampoon's Animal House, is cruising the line in the Faber College cafeteria, circa 1962. With tray piled high, Belushi flops down in front of a booth of clean-cu- t rivals and their girls. Belushi inhales his food, dribbling and snorting, as the girls look on in horror. One young lady exclaims that Belushi is just like an animal. To counter, Belushi packs his mouth full of loose mashed potato. "Guess what I am now," he gurgles, puffing out his cheeks and pushing them back in with his hands, sending a pus-lik- e projectile onto the girls' by BARBARA hot-lunc- h well-groome- faces. "A d zit,-- - he says casually, the tension building. Finally, the moment we've waited for: Belushi stands tall with clenched fist raised warrior-lik- e and gives the golden call: "FOOD FIGHT!" Only moments before, he had been slurping . . . Jell-0- . Green Jell-O- . The traditional catalyst for cafeteria warfare. Food fighting, the closeted underground element entertainment form, is an of American culture; a culture so rich and overfed it can afford to throw food literalh wallow in consumable material! mil Babies and young children know the joy. the sense of release, that accompanies the slinging of food onto walls, floors, tables and mothers. Very few youngsters spit, dump or grope their dinners without wearing a mischievous smile. Mother might even think baby's antics are cute for a little while. Pies in the face are funny. A waiter dropping a trayful of entrees is funny. Funny. But not war. Food fights mean revolt. Revolt not necessarily against poor cuisine (although it's been known to happen) but against social graces, party manners and the on-goin- g obligatory stylized behavior that accompanies social eating. Babies are allowed to finger paint with their lunches. No such luck after about age two. We are taught to behave "properly" around food. frequently satiate the food-figwhen urge by indulging in "doggie-eating- " is eating the folks are out. "Doggie-eating- " something (preferably slippery or sticky) out of a bowl, face first. Look Ma, no hands. Nutrition is gained through absorption rather than digestion. Pre-tee- ht 3 High school follows, with all the and rebellion inherent in confusion adolescence. And green Jell-wiggling invitingly on travs a gelatinous loco weed the bimonthly reminder of the purgatory thrill of creating a fabulous mess. The electric experienc e of wasting, of endless sin and debauchery, is only fingertips away. The mind is back in the high chair; the body can sling a four-incsquare of miles. Jell-Green spells outrage. many Beyond this are the real live (albeit rare) food fighters. Rock stars are grown-unotorious, and are further admired by their in plush colleagues for restaurants and sumptuous hotel rooms. And for all we know, the famous, rich and influential might do it. too. I'll bet Queen Elizabeth lobs crepes at the butler now and then. I'll bet Jimmy Carter likes to get down battle of with Rosalyn in a buttered grits. And certainly Sara Lee would rather attack someone with her cheesecake than eat O hot-lunc- h h Jell-Oman- y, O p fM) V W$ 'A o log food-fightin- g one-on-on- e it. Why, just last night I was in a nice cafe and I saw a big I'niversity official clamp a lobster claw onto his nose and start to scream. When I left, I heard his wife ordering Jell-O- . Kxpcnenml loot! fighters hoose their weapons carefully. The more popular aiulleiv includes spaghetti, chow-mein- , peas (not for heavy warfare), oatmeal and Nations i tain pies. ) Bat remains king. Green Jell-Out into squaies, throws beautifully, isaccurate and disgusting upon impac t. Fvery man for himself. Food fights have, sadly, become smaller affairs just in the past decade. An entire cafeteria or restaurant full of lunatics is hard to come by. People are reluctant to let out that basic repressed urge t and to put themselves in the frame of mind: mindlessness. Everyday, countless thousands of businessmen battle the instinctive drive to splatter veal and gravy over nearby three-piec- e suits and pocket watch chains. Green s not served at their astute lunc heons, lest it tempt fate. Elderly women with rouged cheeks, dripping with diamonds and excess fat, sit on velveteen chairs staring at their creamed corn a maniacal gleam in their fading eyes. c c c food-slingin- g . food-figh- jell-Oi- "Excuse me, waiter Jell-O?- . . . do vou have any " "Yes; what flavor would you like?" "GREEN." I. win Sugarman . . Despite being momentarily still manages an indulgent sn ., .!'t , - . ye shot from his adversary, this food fighter eath.ill in his ear is causing this gaiety. |
