Not All Spam is Equal

A late call roused her from her sleep, chasing away another sweet dream that would never be recovered. She hated it when that happened. That was the price my friend paid when she volunteered to staff the food pantry. Sure, hours of operation were posted, but such signs were to the hungry what traffic lanes are to metropolitan motorists–mere suggestions. Somehow, word of who was staffing the pantry always leaked out to those who couldn’t manage to take advantage of regular operating hours.

A persistent mother made her case for assistance. The volunteer responded that she was in luck, as the pantry would be open that weekend. Given her situation, the church would be able to help her. She should come on Saturday, and they would provide whatever aid they could.  The volunteer was warm and kind, even though the late night interruption tempted her to be more callous. Statistics played through her mind like a worn-out sound track, reinforcing the position that most transient calls are not legitimate, and many local calls are working the system. Still, she maintained her best demeanor of encouragement.

As my friend prepared to end the call, the mother’s next words stopped her cold – “Ma’am, the opportunity this weekend sounds generous, but you don’t understand. I need help now – tonight. My children haven’t had a decent meal in two days. I can’t wait until the weekend.”

Somewhat begrudgingly, the volunteer agreed to meet the mother at the food pantry. It was either that or face a troubling conscience the rest of the evening. When she arrived at the doors of the pantry, a dirty but well-mannered young boy–maybe six years old, accompanied the mother. As the hungry pair watched, the volunteer filled one large grocery bag with food.  She yawned in the process. She hated to admit it, but goodwill in this exchange was quickly disappearing. As the bag reached capacity, she heard the young boy exclaiming in a heavy whisper, “Mom–LOOK–we’re getting SPAM!!”

Well, his words melted the volunteer’s heart. She had had her fill of SPAM as a child. SPAM loaf. Fried SPAM. SPAM and cheese.  She had grown to hate it and had sworn she would never eat it again. Truthfully, she even hated to give it away simply because of her own negative associations. Never in a million years did she expect to hear it revered like a culinary delicacy. She was so moved by those five words that, in her words, “that family left with a car full of groceries that evening.”

“Mom—LOOK—we’re getting SPAM. Those aren’t words I’ve heard very often, at least when used in a positive manner! These days, my issues with spam have to do with unsolicited electronic mail rather than unidentifiable processed meat, but I do remember having SPAM when I was a kid. I never knew exactly what I was eating, or whether to be worried about the gelatinous goo that coated it. Once it had been fried for a few minutes, neither of those questions seemed to matter.  It was not a favorite, but I did not mind eating it occasionally.  Many people have strongly held opinions about SPAM; some may be surprised to know that at certain points in history, SPAM has been hailed as an innovative meal option and has been received with thanksgiving.

One summer while looking for things to see during a free day in Minnesota, I discovered there is an actual SPAM museum in the Austin area. If you think the meat used to make it is a mystery, try getting a straight answer on the meaning of the word SPAM itself! An impressive effort has gone into preserving the SPAM story, including photographing various celebrities attending SPAM PR events there at the museum. Even for luncheon meat, I guess it pays to be seen with the right people! Reportedly, the meat was a real life-saver during WWII, as over 100 million pounds were served to Allied troops. Even today, an estimated 12.8 cans are consumed each second. It may not make my weekly menu, but for some people, like the little guy at the food pantry, it rates as a delicacy.

Together, the food pantry and the museum trip create a useful reminder. Just because something does not suit my taste now does not mean others will not take great delight in it. If I have not traveled the road they walk, I probably will not fully appreciate their reaction to an opportunity that I may reject. Simply because I find something to be dated, questionable, or objectionable does not mean that it has never been appreciated or never occupied a worthy place in a different setting. I am reminded of that every time I take things to local thrift shops, or browse through their shelves looking for the unusual, useful object that can be had for a bargain simply because it has been recycled. Those are basic, simple truths that we should all know, but they are easy to forget in the heat of the moment—or the middle of the night, as the case may be.

This reflection is not intended as an endorsement for or against the canned meat. It clearly played an important role in the 1940’s and continues to rate highly with its fans. Rather, it is a reminder that there is usually more to a story than our own individual, limited perspective. We live with the tension of past and present, tradition and progress, good and evil, and the formidable challenge of navigating responsibly through life alongside a sea of others who are faced with similar challenges.

The risk with a general statement like that is that it can be used to support things that really were always wrong or have outlived their usefulness. That perspective needs to be balanced with the equally bothersome risk of knee-jerk reactions and “flash-mob like” responses to people and situations without taking time to get the full story or considering the source of what we see and hear. Everyone wants “their truth” to be heard and respected, but often find it difficult to afford the same courtesy to others. Emotional rhetoric is powerful. Posted photos and videos are convincing even though they never capture the entire story. Mob mentality is intoxicating, apparently. Once a rumor has been started or a lie has been spread, it is nearly impossible to repair the damage it causes.

These days most of us face another kind of spam on a regular basis. Fake news and ulterior motives rank among the greatest nemeses of our current generation.  They feed us a different kind of spam that is, itself, of questionable content and value.  In simpler times it was largely from bogus foreign contacts in grammatically suspect emails who promised boatloads of money once they had received our bank account information. These days, it shows up in our news feed or maybe even the 6:00 news – who knows anymore?  

I embrace the reality of multiple perspectives and the value of laboring to understand the tastes of others whether the subject is SPAM or Medicare. But I do tire of the duplicity and misdirection.  I long for a commitment to integrity and the common good that makes possible those breakthrough moments where we see through another’s eyes and are moved to help them even though our own personal tastes have not changed.  If you have developed a taste for spam (not to be confused with SPAM), be mindful that not all spam is created equal!