The world may not be your oyster.

According to an article in today’s The Los Angeles Times, Louisiana legislature may ban the consumption of raw oysters harvested during the warm months.  Don’t they listen to the old “no oysters in months without an ‘r’?” adage?  Why does uncle sam need to tell them how to live their lives?

I’m certainly no fan of getting poisoned by a bivalve mollusk.  You eat a raw oyster in July, you’re potentially asking for it.  Eat one in September, and you’re singin’ a tune.

The legislation is meeting opposition among locals, who say that the machinery required to “treat” raw oysters is expensive and it’s going to harm more than it’s going to help.  To quote a man from the article: “To protect everybody from everything, we’d stop driving in cars. We’d stop driving in planes. We’d stop getting out of bed.’

I’d like him to find me a plane in which one can drive, because I think that would be pretty cool.  But I have to disagree that I would stop getting out of bed in order to stay protected from things.  After all, my roof could collapse, I could get bed sores, I could even look dumb because of bed-head.  Basically, nowhere is safe.

That said, I applaud Louisiana for making people follow age-old expressions.  Those rhymes were invented for a reason– to save lives.  Next time you’re at the grocery store or rummaging through your fridge, remember these little ditties:

– “A bulging can can kill you, man.”

– “Mayonnaise in the sun, that’ll be no fun.”

– “If fish smells fishy, your tummy might feel squishy.”

– “Don’t eat that raw chicken, it’ll give you the shits.”

You’re welcome.