Food and Other Applicable Things

Meat and cheese. Apple juice and burritos. Cashews and almonds. Apples and cheese. Yogurt and pretzels. Mangos. Cilantro. Cottage cheese. All are quite lovely to me and have been since first bite.

But what about those less desirable tastes out there. I feel the need to make a case for them. A theory. Most things become more likeable with time and exposure.

Recently I've developed a hankering for children's chewable vitamins. After sampling a few of the variations, I quickly discovered that my favorite were the gummy princesses, which was not surprising considering my affinity for gummy treats.

Naturally after having discovered my favorite, I was a bit leery of the very large bottle of vitamins from Costco my mother held up in front of my face. The words "sugar free" worried me. But, not being one to turn down a well-intentioned gift, I graciously accepted them. As expected, they were disgusting. I considered gifting it to a small child, but decided that if I didn't like them, a child surely wouldn't. So I settled into my new vitamin-eating regimen rather complaint-free.


Over the past few weeks, that bottle, destined to last a year, has become familiar to me. And to my surprise, the other day I realized that the taste has actually become sweet to me. How does that happen?

Salmon entered my life on a similar path. First, I ate the crispy, burnt parts that touched the grill. Next the tender pink flesh that accompanied the crispy parts. Last whole salmon filets.

This pattern isn't just applicable to food. Take skinny jeans. I can quote something I told my niece last summer, "I will never wear skinny jeans. They would look horrible on me." Last week I bought the skinniest pair of skinny jeans out there. The jury's out on how they look, but I like them, nonetheless.

So as I sat in a guitar shop, searching for a nice upgrade to the guitar Carla so generously gave me, of course the tone that I loved the most was housed in an odd-looking package. The top part that has all of the tuning stuff on it (I'm sure there's an official name for the part) is far too skinny for my liking. It tapers in (not unlike skinny jeans). Not attractive. The man helping me lectured me on how one grows to love the guitar with the desired tone. Familiar words.

The less-desirable one

The "normal-looking" one

So did I buy it? No . . . not yet. What is the percent chance that I will buy it? Not sure, but considering my theory, it's highly likely.