In defense of selectiveness

I would like to preface this short post by saying that although I have been accused of snobbery in the past, I would like to think I remain true to my ideal that all people are created equal, and that no one  should feel bad about enjoying what they enjoy (so long as it doesn't involve harming or degrading other people, defacing the past, or stealing from the future). Beyond that, I find the standard of what is tasteful is largely a ploy to gain power or money by a select minority.

There is some truth to accusations of snobbery as far as experiences, items, clothing, lifestyles, food, and drink goes. I catch myself being far more judgmental than I have any right to be. However, I believe that if handle my snobbery carefully, in a way which is not judgmental on what other people think or enjoy, then it is a key to a life of enjoyment and moderation.

One thing I am not is a wine snob. Once you cross that $6 a bottle threshold, I'm generally pretty happy with whatever is in my glass, provided its not a dessert wine. It's a good place to be, because my standards are low enough that I can be happy with whatever is on sale. If I was less experienced with wine, I might even be able to enjoy sub-$6 wines.

I am a donut snob. Unreservedly. I just have no interest beyond a single donut from Dunkin' if its put in front of me, and don't even try to tempt me with pastries from the local gas station or grocery store. And you know what, it's great. I won't eat sub-par donuts, so I'm not tempted, and the difficulty of getting really good, fresh donuts makes them rare treats. Becoming a donut snob makes you eat fewer donuts, not more.

The same is true of beer. There are few cases where I will put up with a cheap domestic. You can keep your Coors, your Bud Light, your Miller Lite, and your Keystone. I'll suffer through a Rolling Rock if there's nothing else, but I won't drink it at bars or at home. The US is fortunate to be the home of a renaissance of brewing such that our pub glasses runneth over with delicious, interesting, and complex craft beers. They are also harder to come by and more expensive. Instead of buying (and drinking) two six packs of Natty's, you buy and drink one six pack of Anchor Steam. As you continue up this ladder of beer snobbery, the quantity of beer you drink decreases as the price per ounce increases. One starts to buy ever more esoteric and higher quality beer. You become familiar with the history of the Trappist monks and can name five or six abbeys in Belgium as your beer purchases for the week begin to consist of a few small, dusty bottles from specialty stores. And honestly, did you really need the extra calories or alcohol?

In terms of food, I find snobbery leads to a better diet. Once you have had that '10' steak, what point is there in ordering the tenderloin at Sizzler? Or pretty much anything at McDonalds apart from french fries? Admittedly, there is a kind of nilhism to this outlook. However, I have not dispaired of finding a more perfect steak: everything can be improved upon, and somewhere in the world, there is  a better X than I have ever tried, and part of the joy of my life is searching it out. However, you can fairly easily rule out your local chain restaurants. I'm guessing you've been going there long enough to rule out 'superlative', or, let's be honest, even 'really good.'

There is always the 'settle' argument- you need to eat, you need to feed your family, and hey, Golden Corral is cheap, easy, and it's better than a sharp stick in the eye. If you don't go to Mexico for your tacos, you'll never eat tacos again. Which is also a depressing thought. So I don't advocate that either. Or Golden Corral.

I find, though, that my appetite for American Mexican food has waned, especially in the fast food arena. Keep your Chi-Chi's and your Carlos O'Briens, and especially Taco Bell. Taco Bell's great grandparents were Mexican, but they were raised in California by their super-white uncle and the only thing that's been handed down is some cheesy sombreros. I tried to enjoy it as American food. I tried really hard. I even went there at night when I was hungry, but my standards weren't low enough.

There is a truism that you should eat what the locals eat, unless you're in Papua New Guinea (where they tend to eat people) although I find that generally the American diet really makes one look more favorably on salads. Takeout pizza is a puzzling exception. I have had many pizzas, all around the world, including many different eateries in Italy (expensive restaurants, cheap trattorias, roadside carts), but honestly, there is nothing quite like a warm John's Favorite pizza from Papa John's slathered with garlic butter sauce. Every time I take that first bite, it's "Oh my god" all over again.

For all the stuff, clothing, home items, if you begin to apply the principle of "is this significantly better than what I have?" no matter where you start, you will find yourself buying less and higher quality. Even if you are shopping at The Dollar Store, you can say "you know, this $1 Disney's Tangled-themed desktop organizer is better than just having my pencils roll around my desk."

A lot of people, probably most people, don't really care about selectivity. Many of them can't afford it since selectivity costs time and money. 'Ain't nobody got time for that.' 'Beggers can't be choosers.' You think I want to be shopping at Wal-Mart, asshole? To be fair, I can't imagine what it is like for people with families to feed and clothe and support. It is an embarrassing crime how limited the options are for Americans in the bottom two quintiles. Wal-Mart is organizing a food drive for its own employees.

To wrap this up, for me at any rate, I am happy that my snobbishness enables me to resist a lot of candy, junk food, a lot of mediocrity in general. I may not fill those particular voids, but in most cases, I would rather go with the smugness of self-deprivation than the indulgence of mediocrity.