As if I didn't have enough to do, now billboards, advertisements and commercials are reminding me that it's time to "Unthink What You Thought About KFC."
Hating to disappoint but, well, I don't really think about KFC. Ever. OK, there was that one time when I found a chicken TAIL in my snack pack but that was a very long time ago when we could only dream of such esteemed culinary holidays as "Liver and Gizzard Day!"
So why do I have to "unthink" KFC? Well because it's not "F" anymore, at least not all of it.
Going to a Kentucky Fried Chicken for the new Kentucky grilled chicken is weird, isn't it? Perhaps you haven't "unthought" much about it either. It's a little like going to the International House of Pancakes and discovering that it's really just maybe Wisconsin and a couple of Dakotas. Or going to Hooter's and discovering that it really is all about the owls. (I always thought it would be a cool party trick if the waitresses could turn their heads all the way around just like a real owl. Guess we'll have to settle for opposable thumbs.)
As a Southern woman who has made the pilgrimage to the museum in Louisville, Ky., that honors the late Colonel Harlan Sanders, who got his start peddling bags of chicken seasoning to flavor-starved Appalachia, I confess a certain sadness that the "fried" is being shoved aside by a more politically and gastronomically correct grilled version. I imagine the good Colonel spinning in his grave at the notion. His animatronic museum likeness should come alive just like Teddy Roosevelt in "Night at the Museum" and demand an explanation. Something along the lines of "WTFKFC?"
Oprah, who honestly believes that we care what she weighs anymore, is thrilled with the new grilled chicken. So thrilled that she even devoted a show to touting its taste and giving away coupons for free chicken dinners.
Sadly, this led to a much publicized riot in the streets of Manhattan, which I have to say, I didn't see coming. When investment bankers and fashion industry bigwigs are slugging it out for a place in line for a free wing and thigh dinner, we should all be sore afraid. Police were called when the KFC couldn't honor all the free coupons downloaded from O's Web site. Fistfights ensued. Ugly words were hollered. It was like watching an old "Springer" show without the white-trash chick with the muffin top spilling over her jeans yanking out her boyfriend's new lover's weave. Yeah. Just like that.
I remind you this was over GRILLED chicken. Who knew the passion that would inspire? So, yes. I will now unthink what I thought about KFC. Beats real work.
(Celia Rivenbark writes a humor column for MCT. Her newest book is "Belle Weather: Mostly Sunny With a Chance of Scattered Hissy Fits." Visit her Web site at celiarivenbark.com.)
(c) 2009, Celia Rivenbark
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