So there I sat, eating a Slim Jim.
I wasn't sure exactly why I was eating a Slim Jim, but I was.
Could it have been the texture that appealed to me?
I thought about that. A gristle-like tube of an exterior with an odd, almost pre-digested gunk on the inside. Kind of like a strangely organic tube of toothpaste.
Nope... it wasn't the texture.
Well, then could it be the taste?
Bite through that leathery protective coating and take in a hearty mouthful of the finely milled pate' inside, and you'll see that the ingredients are correct: the Slim Jim contains ground meat products.
According go the taste, though, they are held together completely by salt.
Nope... it wasn't the taste.
Could it be the smell?
No. No thought required. It was not the smell.
Okay, I was running out of options. How about the name? Slim Jim.
Do I even know this “Jim” person? Who the hell is he to tell me what to eat?
I decided to look it up. This is taken directly from Congrafoods.com, the makers of the Slim Jim:
“Adolph Levis sold pickles, relishes, sausages, and other popular snacks and condiments from his basement in Philadelphia during the Great Depression. But these foods just weren't the easy, spicy treat that bar patrons craved. Levis experimented with different ways to serve sausages, culminating one day in 1928 with the development of a cured beef sausage that would curb consumers' cravings. Printed on the jars that the beef sticks were sold in was a picture of a tall, elegant man complete with top hat and cane. Levis named him "Slim Jim," and the now-famous spicy snack was born. Early advertisements for Slim Jim touted "the ready-to-eat spiced sausage treat" that was packed in cellophane and sold for a dime. “
Nope. It sure wasn't that. I didn't even know any of that when I bought the damn meatstick.
I sat down and really thought about it. And finally it came to me.
"Macho Man" Randy Savage.
Those old commercials with Macho Man screaming “Snap into a Slim Jim!”, his hair plugs practically quivering with volume, the veins in his taut, muscular arms writhing like snakes beneath his skin, spittle flying through the air just like in those old-time between events interviews with wrestlers in the WWF. That's what it was. When we're talking about processed, salted meat products, there's no one more convincing than an ancient muscleman in spandex and a big hat who coined the catchphrase “Oh-yeah!”, even all these years later.
Thank you, Macho Man!
|(Photo courtesy of "The Washington Voices" newspaper)|
Talk to you later!