Weekly Posting of the Conservative Cow Doctor


Seventeen Flavors

In vet school I became an ice cream connoisseur thanks to an ambulatory clinician’s fondness for ice cream shops and small cafes.  Because large animal students were actually in the food production business, our instructor felt tasting the end product was just as critical as the physical exam of an ailing Holstein cow.  His logic was flawless.  We would be on a farm call in the Colorado hinterlands when the teacher would direct the student driving the ambulatory pickup to duck down a county road.  Within minutes, an out of the way café featuring pies, cinnamon rolls or milk shakes would into pop into view. “Organoleptic testing” was the term we euphemistically recorded on the vehicle log and outcalls quickly became the highlight of my senior year.   When my son, Tyler, was three he began accompanying me on ranch calls, so I revived organoleptic testing.  He soon learned the many “milk-shake places” scattered throughout my practice area and still refers to them as such today.  Eventually, my extensive testing interfered with my marathon training, so I placed my ice cream cravings in the cooler alongside cinnamon rolls and cookies.  Reality is harsh.                               Last week while discussing the limited dessert options on sugar and grain free diets, one of my technicians mentioned her wee ones love blended frozen bananas.  “It tastes just like ice cream,” she said.  I was skeptical, but it was worth a try, so I sliced up some bananas and tossed them in the freezer.  The next evening, I crushed the bananas in a blender and conducted an organoleptic test; it was just like ice cream!  I salivated thinking of the nearly endless banana and berry combos which could add variety to my Paleo ration guidelines and enable me to compete with Baskin-Robbins 31 flavors.  Actually, many of their advertised flavors differ so little they taste the same. This same fuzzy phenomenon also exists with politicians and because I am an expert in both politics and ice cream, here is an organoleptic look at elected officials.  They rarely taste as advertised.    After serving four sessions in Montana’s House, I know all Democrats taste the same.  They may advertise themselves as being vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, or even Neapolitan, but their overwhelming allegiance to collectivism means they all taste vanilla.  The left side of the aisle always advances state power at the expense of individual liberty.   The GOP taste scale is less predictable which is why we had 17 different Republican presidential flavors debating in Cleveland last Thursday evening.  Just as in Big Sky Country, 40 to 60 percent of Republicans claim to be flavored with chocolate, nuts, caramel and marshmallows, yet they too taste vanilla.  When conservative voters buy a gallon of Moose Tracks, they are disappointed to find it tasting collectivist vanilla once they get it home.  Therefore, the challenge facing voters is discovering which candidate will taste true to their advertised flavor once the election cycle has passed.  Here is my take on the GOP presidential taste test:  Fiorina, Carson, Paul, Jindal and Cruz are tasting true.  I am undecided on Trump, Rubio and Walker as every lick varies from sugar-cookie to dark chocolate.  The balance of the 17 flavors taste no different than Democrat vanilla.  What taste you?           


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