WHAT’S THE DIFFERENCE?

(The following has no basis in scientific research or fact or even
hearsay. It’s simply the author’s unhinged perceptions.)

Ever since I was a little guy, I’ve always wished my
birthdays were celebrated with birthday pie instead
of birthday cake. Oh, you can still stick candles in
the pie, sing Happy Birthday if you must, and have
me make a wish and blow out the candles.

Just make it my “Birthday Pie.”

That may seem like a simple taste preference on the
surface: pie over cake. And, for me it is, but it’s so
much more. Don’t misunderstand, I love cake.
Chocolate, carrot, Angel food — amazing stuff. But
pie is a fruit-filled, flaky-crusted slice of Jack. Let me
explain.

I find that aside from preferences, cake and pie also
represent personalities. Cake fans tend to be social,
sweet, outgoing dreamers. Pie people are warm,
humble, down-to-earth realists.

A few arguable examples:

Jimmie Stewart: Pie
Cary Grant: Cake

Ben Afleck: Cake
Matt Damon: Pie

Paul Newman: Pie
Robert Redford: Cake

Angelina Jolie: Cake
Jennifer Aniston: Pie

Bugs Bunny: Cake
Elmer Fudd: Pie

Katherine Hepburn: Cake disguised as Pie

Neither are wrong, bad or misguided. We just “are-
who-we-are”. If only everyone on the planet shared
that sentiment. But, aside from our names, we
mortals have devised many ways of describing

ourselves and each other. Unfortunately, the bases
of most of these descriptions are offensive at best.
Skin color, sexual preference, religion are just a few
— and just awful.

But there are other ways.

Like cake or pie, there are harmless, even fun ways
of recognizing our differences without the
probability of wars, hate crimes or even hurt
feelings. I can’t imagine cake people hating the pie
folks so much that it would lead to a riot. No, I think
the two sides would agree that having both cake
and pie in the world is actually a beautiful thing. So
why can’t we do that with religions? Or with
sexuality? Or skin color?

Anyway, here goes:

What’s your peanut butter? Jif or Skippy? I’m a Jif
man. But I don’t hate Skippy lovers. (I don’t
understand them, but I don’t hate them.)
I can hear the Peter Pan eaters struggling to protest
with a mouthful of their favorite. But I’m not going

to spend my days looking over my shoulder for
angry Peter Panners. The “all-natural” peanut
butter advocates are probably still mixing the oil on
the top of their jars to notice.

Are you boxers? Or briefs? Now, men’s underwear
is a little trickier because that preference often
changes. Until I went away to school, I wore tighty-
whiteys — whatever my mom bought me. As I got
older, a girlfriend introduced me to boxers and I
was hooked (or shall I say “unhooked”) by the
freedom they offered. And then I tried a pair of
boxer/briefs and have worn them ever since. Now
how can anyone hold anything against anybody
after having walked a mile in their, uh, underwear?

Coke or Pepsi? Ocean or Lake? Baked or Mashed?
The world is full of our little harmless differences. I
say we use those and leave the others behind. Who
knows? Maybe, instead of wars that would lead to
peanut butter eating contests, underwear races and
bake-offs.

As long as we don’t let preference harden into
prejudice there won’t be any trouble. It’s as easy as
pie.

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