The Problem with Butchery

Being a butcher is not the easiest thing to do…especially when you are primarily vegetarian. I grew up in a 90% vegetarian household, and still hold true to that today. So, why am I a butcher? I have no idea. I suppose it started as a sort of rebellion (my step-dad is the vegetarian), and it just stuck. I love the fact that I have a skilled trade, that I am in concert with a long line of artisans. Unfortunately, it is a dying art (no pun intended), and is not as well respected in the US as it is in other countries, especially in Europe.  I’m not entirely certain why that is the case, although it must have something to do with McDonalds or Monsanto. Everything evil and awful in the world can be traced back to either McDonalds, Wal Mart, or Monsanto. Or maybe this Kony guy has something to do with it.

Butchers, as a rule, tend to make light of pretty much any subject, joke about things that really shouldn’t be joked about, are crass, ill tempered, and ugly. Lucky for me, I fit into all but the last two of those stereotypes.



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