It’s happening again. On televisions across the country, I suppose - although it’s possible that it’s only in the South, another example of Northern Oppression perhaps - McDonald’s is advertising the Return of the McRib.

It even has it’s own website. To be honest, I don’t know how often the McRib returns. I remember trying one once, and thinking it was maybe the worst sin committed in the name of barbeque since the advent of fire. But I don’t know if the McRib shows up every year, or every couple of years, or on some sort of random basis. It’s just amazing to me that it ever made more than one appearance. Maybe McDonald’s thinks if they just put enough of that vaguely barbequeish sauce on it, they can convince people to buy it. “For a short time only, try the new McDonald’s McBuffalo Chip Sandwich!! It has sauce!” I’ve never heard anyone proclaim a desire to actually get, and eat, a McRib. Someone must, because McDonald’s wouldn’t otherwise try to foist this culinary apostasy off on us. At least, I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t. Maybe there’s some corporate calculation that making the McRib available will cause an increase in hamburger sales, as a grateful nation of consumers decides that maybe the Double Cheeseburger, or the Quarter Pounder, or the Big Mac, isn’t so bad after all. Maybe they have some obscure contract that requires them to buy a couple of million tons of some vague pork-like meat periodically. Or maybe they just figured that a country that just re-elected George Bush as President is ripe for persuading that they really, truly, want/desire/crave a McRib. I figure by this time Jack has probably rowed about halfway across, maybe less if he swung south to avoid Hurricane Epsilon. If he catches the westerlies soon enough, maybe he can reach the shores of our great McNation in time to partake of a McRib. Washed down with a carbonated beverage of his choice, and served with a side of French Fries cooked in partially hydrogenated vegetable oils (may contain partially hydrogenated soybean oil and/or partially hydrogenated corn oil and/or partially hydrogenated canola oil and/or cottonseed oil and/or sunflower oil and/or corn oil, or hell, it might be partially strained Castrol 5W30), it would be just the thing to wipe away the memory of those nasty French meals and French wines that poor Jacques has been forced to consume. So, Jack, keep rowing and don’t fret. After all, you, more than most, deserve a break today.