Comfort food

“Feeling good, feeling good, all the money in the world spent on feeling good.” It’s been half a century since blues artist J.B. Lenoir recorded those words, but it’s certainly just as true today. In fact, it’s pretty trenchant economic analysis—moreso than any of the expert commentary I hear on the financial news networks, anyway. For one thing, it helps explain some of the counter- and a-cyclical spending we hear about, the goods and services that still get purchased, despite tightening purse strings. I’ve always heard, for instance, that candy bars continue to sell well in tough economic times. Of course, candy bars aren’t exactly a luxury item, price-wise, but when people are cutting all kinds of things out of their budget, big and small, why leave candy bars on the ledger? Well, as Mr. Lenoir might point out, they feel good; eating a candy bar is a quick little burst of pleasure. It’s a tiny reward, you might say, that feels deserved amidst other sacrifices. In other words, it’s comfort food.
Of course, comfort food needn’t be something you eat, in the Lenoirian scheme. Anything that makes you feel good, that makes you feel better in the midst of adversity, is comfort food in this ameliorative sense. And, in principle, I’m all for it (one look at my mid-section is evidence of that; they don’t call me “big guy” because I work at Big). Still, it can be a little alarming when you look at precisely what Americans find comforting.
We’ve already written about fortune telling here on the Big Blog, expressing our dismay that the practice is undergoing something of a boom during the current economy. But that’s nothing compared to the unholy trinity upon which Lewis Black reported on “The Daily Show” this week.
First up was McDonald’s—not particularly surprising, as for many people it is quite literally a comfort food. Unfortunately, that’s probably not the reason for its ongoing success in the current economy. The value meals and dollar menu items at McDonald’s are simply more affordable than a lot of healthier fare.
Next up wasn’t surprising, either, when you think of sources of comfort—alcohol. And while there are many reasons, perhaps, to bemoan the steady sales of this particular judgement-impairer and inhibition-remover during challenging times, what’s most disturbing is how it sets the stage for the next item on the list.
Third—and let’s go ahead and crown this the winner, shall we?—was guns. Yep, gun sales are going strong. Money’s tight, sure, and you may have to feed the family McNuggets seven nights a week, but that’s no reason to lay off the vodka tonics or deny yourself that smart little revolver with the pearl handle that you’ve been eyeing.
All of which reminds me of Wal-Mart, which, not coincidentally, is doing just fine amid the economic turmoil, too. I’ve long felt that one of the retail giant’s most distinguishing features is that it offers the golden opportunity to buy both guns and hooch in one stop. And now that I think about it, my local Wal-Mart boasts an in-store McDonald’s, as well. All that’s missing is the fortune teller.
So there you have it. Magic, cheeseburgers, booze, and guns. Comfort food for the soul, and saviours of our economy. That’s a stimulus package we can all get behind.