The breakdown of civilisation as we know it

Brian Rogers
Rogers Rabbits
www.sunlive.co.nz

With Sun Media director and owner Brian Rogers passing away recently, SunLive has decided to honour Brian and his infamous Rogers Rabbits column with a re-publish of a good old classic installment. Enjoy folks!

Summer is fading. Along with it, the bountiful fresh fruit and garden produce. There's nothing like the crisp, flavoursome crunch of homegrown goodness.

Corn is one of my favourites. Not only is it wholesome and full of vitamins, it also is a good colour substitute for canaries, if you are having trouble sourcing them.

Mrs Gore phoned me to say that during the war she ate hedgehogs, horses and whales, but didn't know what the meat was at the time. They weren't told till after. She also pointed out there wouldn't be enough meat on the bones of a canary to feed many people. Well, I guess not, if you're accustomed to a good helping of horse.

Back to corn. There needs to be a Code of Conduct for eating it. This occurred to me as the family was munching on fresh corn cobs. Some of the techniques displayed are a major concern.

Personally, I think corn on the cob should always be eaten in rows of three or four, along the cob.

This surely is the acceptable and logical way to do it: The Harmonica Method.

When God genetically engineered corn, he designed nice straight rows, to be worked methodically along, left to right (The Harmonica Method) starting from the narrow end, and eaten in rows of exactly three at a time, depending on the size of the kernels. The exception, of course, is when you are left with, say five rows.

Then you have to decide whether to go for a three-and-two, or a four-and-one, or pig out on the whole five to finish.

This sensible approach is also known as the Typewriter Method, depending on whether you eat on the return stroke or not. It is logical and tidy and socially acceptable.

But not so, according to my lovely wife Claire, who prefers the Random Assault, which leaves the corn cob looking like it was hit by a shotgun at close range. Or dragged on a rope through the Avenues behind a Bay Hopper. Her cob resembles the French military – half the kernels are AWOL. Once the initial attack is over, she goes back for a second mauling. It's like watching a feeding frenzy at the waterhole on Animal Planet.

In my clinically ordered and logical mind, this is appalling behaviour. I'd like a psychologist's opinion on this. You'll see the photo showing the molested cob looking more like a chess board, compared to the well gnawed Standard Three Row Harmonica approach in the other photo.

My concern is this: What next? Unless as a society we keep some standards of order and precision, the whole of the civilised world will turn to chaos. Starting with corn.

Next thing you know, people will be putting milk in their tea before removing the teabag, then all hell will break loose.

Surveying the munchers

So Rogers Rabbits conducted an extensive survey of corn munchers to find out what sort of eating habits are out there. The results are astounding.

Other members of the family revealed they use the Harmonica Method, but only two rows at a time. This is marginally acceptable, I suppose. But I'm sure three to four rows is the Internationally Accepted Standard for Corn Consumption.

A real shocker was revealed by another friend. We'll call her ‘K'. She employs the Otter System, in which the corn is eaten from the narrow end, around the entire circumference. This Ring Barking approach takes in about five or six kernels at a time, the last circuit ending at the big end. This, I found quite disturbing, especially since she spends a lot of her time moulding the minds of impressionable young adults.

‘K' has also done a lot of research amongst her students, and found that most are very random grazers. She suspects there's some deep philosophical reason for this; maybe that as teenagers they have yet to learn about order, precision and methodology. But I think it's because no-one has yet texted them with instructions.

Another surveyee, (We'll call him Old Toothless Bugger) described how he, for the sake of retaining his false teeth, cuts the kernels off with a knife, then scoops them off the plate, with vast quantities of melted butter and salt. This was too radical to be included in our survey.

Amongst the Sun team, G-Man and Tracey both, thankfully, exhibited all the normal attributes of a Classic Harmonica Approach. Three or four rows, depending on size and maturity of the cob. Good answers. There is some hope.

Kym is a classic Ring Barker, although she doesn't like the categorisation. She prefers to describe it as 'Circumnavigating”. Mandy also defies classification, so we've made one especially for her. She's a Half-Cob Four-Row Harmonica Squirter, preferring to break the cob to eat half at a time and enjoy the squishy kernels squirting.

Disturbing.

Julie, thank goodness, displayed all the critical signs of a well-disciplined Standard Typewriter approach, although again the tendency to gnaw only two rows was an area for concern. We suspect her corn cobs go 'ding” at the end, so she can push the carriage return lever.

Susan also gave me hope for the human race, announcing she's a wholesome, Four Row, Clean and Tidy Harmonica Style operator. She also has a nice technique of rolling the cob in the pool of melted butter and salt. A dedicated Puddle Dipper-Roller. I like it. Her cardiologist refused comment.

And stranger still

Other acquaintances revealed interesting habits. ‘F' admits to being a Deep Throater, and enthusiastically described the performance. Several old ladies fainted and the Chief Censor is investigating. Mark is a Serial Stabber, preferring to poke forks in each end, refusing to get his hands messy while perpetrating the evil deed. He can't remember whether he goes around or along. He believes this technique was taught to him at a young age. How sad, being influenced by a Mother Forker.

One thing is for sure, when it comes to eating corn, it seems no-one attacks it quite like my lovely wife, Claire.

She's in a class of her own.