By Michael Moss for New York Times Sunday Magazine, Feb. 20/24, 2012
On the evening of April 8, 1999, a long line of Town Cars and taxis pulled up to the Minneapolis headquarters of Pillsbury and discharged 11 men who controlled America’s largest food companies. Nestlé was in attendance, as were Kraft and Nabisco, General Mills and Procter & Gamble, Coca-Cola and Mars. Rivals any other day, the C.E.O.’s and company presidents had come together for a rare, private meeting. On the agenda was one item: the emerging obesity epidemic and how to deal with it. While the atmosphere was cordial, the men assembled were hardly friends. Their stature was defined by their skill in fighting one another for what they called “stomach share” — the amount of digestive space that any one company’s brand can grab from the competition.
James Behnke, a 55-year-old executive at Pillsbury, greeted the men as they arrived. He was anxious but also hopeful about the plan that he and a few other food-company executives had devised to engage the C.E.O.’s on America’s growing weight problem. [....]
"We were speeding, trying to get back to Detroit. And we got pulled over in Ohio. I knew I was going to Jail due to a petty warrant. The police called Wayne county and they refused to come get me because of the distance. I explained to the officer that my sister had died and that I needed to get to my mother asap. I broke down crying and he saw the sincerity in my cry. He REACHES OVER AND BEGAN PRAYING OVER ME AND MY FAMILY. He offered to bring me 100 miles further to Detroit because they towed the vehicle. Everybody knows how much I dislike Cops but I am truly Greatful for this Guy. He gave me hope"
It will perhaps surprise no one to hear me say that I know a thing or two about functioning forensically when you've been uup too long and are relying upon exogenous neurotransmitter modification to manage your fatigue...One is well advised in such case to take extra care not to shorthand in one's head the forensic purpose for which a particular anecdote is adduced.
The alternative, Deadbeat Donald speed rappinig in between attacks of catarrh.
Keep me away from open windows, sharp objects, and toxic substances--I am a danger to myself. This is fucking unbelivably bad timing, it is JUST what that schmuck needed to be able to wave anytime the heat goes up! "Surging, I'm surging I tell ya'!"
Remember the horror that Bill Clinton committed perjury over an affair? 20 years later half of America wants to elect a man who can't tell the truth even on important stuff - in court, in national debates, to the INS or IRS, anywhere. There's a special place in hell for hypocritical sons-of-bitches, and it'll look a lot like the Cleveland convention, just bigger and louder. Hillary's "deplorable" understates the problem.