Fakin’ bacon

Christmas morning was a big disappointment for me this year. Not one of my presents was bacon related. It’s hard to imagine how Mary Ellen could have perused the current merchandise catalogs thick with bacony items and not realize that there should have been something under the tree that had at least a whiff of this American food addiction.

Everyone loves bacon. When it’s frying in the pan, one can almost hear a splattering of applause coming from the heavens. We wrap a $50 filet in a strip of bacon to make it even better. Nor would we even know what a water chestnut is, if it weren’t for bacon. To get a taste of their newest gift ideas, I went to one manufacturer’s website.

Its premier item is bacon shaving cream. The company suggested ordering early to be sure customers have a festive pork-scented holiday, which, it maintains, is every man’s fantasy. The ad claims the shaving cream delivers “maximum bacon scent when you need it most.” When that is, I have no idea, but they had me worked into a lather just thinking about it. By the way, the company lightheartedly warns that while using this product, “you can be eaten by bears,” making some of the side effects of my Lipitor pale in comparison.

The jar of Bacon Rub sounded intriguing. I was going to order some to give my wife a back massage with it – you know, to put a little sizzle in the marriage. But apparently, it’s for ribs and roasts and not people, and now I’m starting to worry that I’m coming up with goofier ideas than they are.

How about a container of Bacon Infant Formula? The product was launched last spring accompanied by claims from the AAP (which I have a feeling is not the American Academy of Pediatrics but the American Academy of Pigs) that the fat in pork is very important in the development of a newborn’s brain. Now, it turns out this particular promotion was nothing but an April Fool’s Day joke by the manufacturers. Yes, everyone is laughing. Except the 450 people who fell for this and still wait by the mailbox every day.

Finally, my favorite (and this one is real): The Bacon-Scented Oxygen Inhaler. You’ve had a long day at the office, or suffer from COPD (Chronic Overt Pork Deficiency). Pick up your mini-inhaler, hold the device up to your snout and breathe in. “No fat, no calories, no carbs,” says the label. But there’s also a warning attached: “For recreational purposes only.” Isn’t that what they say about marijuana?