Laura and I talk about the virtues and vices of vegetarians a lot. It’s surprising that vegetarians face so many cultural roadblocks these days, even in California. Slate has a great article on the tribulations of going meatless:

Every vegetarian remembers his first time. Not the unremarkable event of his first meal without meat, mind you. No, I mean the first time he casually lets slip that he’s turned herbivore, prompting everyone in earshot to stare at him as if he just revealed plans to sail his carrot-powered plasma yacht to Neptune. For me, this first time came at an Elks scholarship luncheon in rural Oregon when I was 18. All day, I’d succeeded at seeming a promising and responsible young man, until that fateful moment when someone asked why I hadn’t taken any meat from the buffet. After I offered my reluctant explanation—and the guy announced it to the entire room—30 people went eerily quiet, undoubtedly expecting me to launch into a speech on the virtues of hemp. In the corner, an elderly, suited man glared at me as he slowly raised a slice of bologna and executed the most menacing bite of cold cut in recorded history. I didn’t get the scholarship.

The Elks don’t strike me as the most accepting group to unveil your hippie-diet to, but even less stereotypically old-fashioned audiences can react oddly to vegetarianism. We’ve noticed that people take a defensive posture as soon as we mention we don’t eat meat. Why is this? Flashbacks to a frightening encounter with militant vegans? Unconscious guilt for eating our furry friends? Enlighten me, meat-eaters.

And if you’re really brave, watch Earthlings. Guaranteed to turn you vegan, at least for a day.