Before there was Disney World, before there was Universal Studios, before there was Sea World, there was Gatorland.  I recently had the opportunity to visit Gatorland and found it more enjoyable than I expected, it turned out to be a memorable way to spend an afternoon.  One of the most impressive areas of the park was the breeding marsh, an area complete with boardwalk and observation tower meandering over a shallow lake while more than one hundred alligators swam or sunned almost within reach.  It was almost impossible to walk so close to so many of these creatures and not feel at least a twinge of terror once in a while.  The buzzards hanging around in the nearby trees did not do much to assail these feelings.

Yet, I realized that as long as I stayed on the boardwalk, I would be safe.  I was in no real danger of being attacked by these alligators unless I decided to dive into the marsh with them.  There was zero chance of that happening.  Yet, any fear of being devoured by an alligator would not be a rational fear.  A quick internet search revealed that the last death in the US attributed to an alligator occurred in 2007.

I would be much more likely to meet my demise at the hands, hooves, horns or teeth of many other creatures.  Every year in the United States horses and cows kill more than twenty people.  One hundred twenty deaths yearly are caused by deer, many through automobile accidents.  Domestic dogs kill over one hundred eighty people annually.  Of course, the odds of any of these animals killing me are obviously very slim.

The dangers in the world are not limited to the animal kingdom.  Believe it or not, vending machines kill thirteen people annually, bathtubs kill three hundred forty, falling out of bed kills four hundred fifty people, and volcanos kill more than eight hundred annually.  All of these things kill more people than alligators. Again, the odds of any of these things happening to me is about as likely as me winning the lottery which, by the way I have never purchased a ticket for,

Often though we fret and worry more about being eaten by an alligator or being bitten by spiders than about things that have a much higher probability of happening to us.  According to the CDC there are five things that perhaps I should be concerned with: heart disease, cancer, lung disease, stroke and unintentional injuries such as those on roads or caused by medication overdoses.  Together, these five conditions cause almost two-thirds of all deaths in the country.  So, perhaps I should not give those alligators a second thought and instead should pay attention to diet and exercise which really do have an impact on my health and wellbeing.

I believe it was Shakespeare that told us, “A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” His point being that the name of something does not affect what it really is.  However, lately I have started to notice that some names are changing and that names have changed precisely because the “thing” has changed.

The other night I decided to have some ice cream which is not unusual in any sense of the word.  I like ice cream and I will admit I eat more ice cream than I should.  However this time as I reached into the freezer and pulled out the carton, something caught my eye.  The carton did not state this was “ice cream,” stated that this was “frozen dairy dessert.”

Believe it or not, the United States Department of Agriculture, Agricultural Marketing Service, Dairy Division has developed a definition of ice cream that has not changed since my freshman year of college.  Per the USDA definition, ice cream will “weigh not less than 4.5 punds to the gallon, and contain not less than 20 percent total milk solids, constituted of not less than 10 percent milk fat.”  If the product does not meet the USDA definition, it cannot be labeled as “ice cream.”  I also did a search for a USDA definition of “frozen dairy dessert” which did not produce any results.  So, I can say that what I was eating was not “ice cream”; however, I am not sure that I can say what it actually was.  I can tell you that it tasted different than “ice cream” and you can trust me as a former professional ice cream dipper (my first job). I know ice cream.

I have also noticed other instances where the “rose” is no longer a “rose.”  Recently I was making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (no, not grilled, that is another story).  I had to open a new jar of jelly and when I pulled it out, I noticed that it stated it was grape “spread.”  Yes, the United States Department of Agriculture, Agricultural Marketing Service, Fruit and Vegetable Division, Processed Products Branch has produced United States Standards for Grades of Fruit Jelly which have been in effect since my junior year of college.  These standards are voluntary and detail 4 kinds of fruit jelly but is silent on what constitutes fruit “spread.”  So again, I know more about what I was not eating that what I was eating.

I recently went to KFC and noticed that to top off the biscuit that came with my meal I was given buttery spread and honey spread.  Again there are standards for butter (even margarine) and honey, but I did not find any government standards for buttery spread or honey spread.

A rose by another other name might continue to smell as sweet, but frozen dairy dessert does not takes as sweet as ice cream and grape spread does not taste the same as grape jelly.  It has been said that “you are what you eat.”  I guess I am heading into a bit of an identity crises.

Do you ever stop and ponder about how much of life we spend waiting?  We can’t wait until we start school, then we can’t wait until we get out.  We can’t wait until we have kids, then we can’t wait until they start school.  We can’t wait for the weather to warm up, then we can’t wait for the weather to cool off.  We can’t wait for the baseball season to start, then we can’t wait for the football season to start.  We can’t wait for our birthday, we can’t wait for Christmas, we can’t wait for vacation, we can’t wait for that new job, we can’t wait for a raise.  We can’t even wait for the red light to change!  It would appear that we have a real wait problem.

Yet we realize that usually there is no alternative.  Next time a child says “I can’t wait for Christmas.”  Try asking them what he or she is going to do about that?  Being impatient does not make the light change faster or the hours to pass more quickly.  In fact, it appears to make those moments and days drag on even slower.

I will admit that I am not the most patient person and that generally I hate to wait.  Just ask my wife how quickly my disposition will change when the cheerful gal at the hostess stand informs us that we will be waiting forty-five minutes to be seated at a restaurant.  My initial reaction is to go somewhere else for when in come to restaurants there is almost always an alternative and I am usually ready to look into that alternative.  My patience is thinnest at restaurants and I think there are two reasons for this: 1) as noted there are usually suitable alternatives and 2) the wait is just not worth it to me.

I had time to think about waiting today, because I spent a chunk of time waiting.  I had an appointment with an eye doctor today.  The appointment was for 10:30, I actually saw the doctor about 1:30.  As I sat and sat and sat, the other folks in the waiting room became more and more restless and complaints about the wait started to be voiced.  You would think that I would be quick to join in, but not this time.  Did I suddenly become a patient person?  Was I enjoying the waiting room?  Were they playing my kind of Muzak or have my favorite programs on the television?  No. No. No and No.

It is the exact opposite of the reasons why I am so impatient at a restaurant for why I was patient at the doctor’s office today.  I have a little hereditary “present” from my Mother in my eyes.  This doctor is very good with this issued (in fact one of the few that knows what he is looking at when he looks at my eyes). So 1) there are very few alternatives for waiting for this doctor and 2) having experienced the difference that going to this doctor makes to my vision I figure that a few hours of waiting is a good trade for several years of improved eyesight.

So, the moral of this story, for me to remember is don’t get too stressed out about waiting.  Some things, like waiting for an event to come, there are no alternatives to waiting no matter what we do.  For the others like restaurants and doctors, just decide if it is worth it and wait it out or pick a suitable alternative.