Menhaden are small, bony, oily fish, members of the herring family. Most people would go out of their way to avoid eating them. (Some old Germans, like my dad, eat them pickled on New Year’s Eve. Supposed to bring good luck.)
The rest of us don’t eat menhaden, except when we do. Oil from menhaden is in store-bought cookies, margarine, cooking oil and cat food. It’s in waterproof fabrics and paint, soap and cosmetics. Menhaden have become even more popular lately as the source of Omega-3 fish oil, which is supposed to help prevent cardiovascular disease.
After the oil applied to these myriad uses has been squeezed out, the rest of the fish is ground into meal and fed to cows, pigs and chickens at industrial agricultural operations. Some ground menhaden is fed to other fish at aquaculture facilities. Bags of fishmeal sold at your local garden center? Menhaden.
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On Wedgies
Summer is in full throat. Cicadas drone through the day, crickets are loud every night. Pairs and threes of teenagers walk through the evening neighborhoods, their voices drifting through the window screens.
At summer camp, wedgies must be getting out of hand.
Experienced camp administrators know wedgies play a regulatory role in the living organism that is camp. They are an expression – and more important, a release – of group tension. During counselor orientation week in June, a savvy head counselor will lay down the law for the staff, particularly for the junior counselors and CITs: I don’t care what happened last year, no wedgies this season. Vague talk of outraged parents, threatened lawsuits and increased insurance premiums is appropriate here.
(I should digress to note that wedgies are, at least in my experience, a male phenomenon. Now that I think about it, perhaps the current popularity of thong underwear among women can be traced in part to some sort of “wedgie envy.” Might be worth academic research.)
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