A Fiscal Vegan

When I googled 'vegan', looking for just the perfect image to really start this post off right, I came up with this little baby. I hope you all agree that it would have been a mistake to continue looking for just the right picture of kale.

A few years ago, in a conversation with Kate's Dad, I was trying to explain my policy on meat-eating. I told him that, although I didn't purchase meat for myself, I thought there were things more important that categorically avoiding it, and that I would eat it if it were served in someone else's home.

He paused for a moment, then quipped, "Oh, so you're a fiscal vegan."

Touche.

I was reminded of this conversation when my friend, Flood, commented about veganism in her blog. She said that veganism doesn't just happen by accident and I suppose that for the ethical vegans out there, fastidiously checking labels for gelatin, it doesn't. However, I did stumble upon fiscal veganism quite by accident. It started because I didn't much care for meat, progressed when I couldn't afford it anyway, and really took flight when I read a good book that told me it was bad for me.

I like fiscal veganism because it allows me to avoid animal products, for all the potential reasons a person might want to do that, avoid the impossibly awkward moments when people who may be unaware of these reasons serve chicken noodle soup for dinner, and avoid a vitamin B12 deficiency (you just need a little, but you do need a little).

Ethical vegans on the high road may disdain at my fiscal approach. I do not blame them. Mine is the lazy man's way; the path of the hypocrite. But it's easy as vegan pie, and I'd recommend it to anyone.