Spam!

My father had a visceral aversion to hot dogs, stemming from his military service during World War II.

Stationed on an Air Force base in southern England, he claimed that all his daily meals for a nine-month spell had consisted solely of canned Vienna Sausage, because the mess could obtain no other food. 

After that, he couldn't even look at a spiced ham product without growing nauseous.

I don't recall ever seeing him eat a hot dog; not at a picnic, not at the drive-in, not even at the ball park.

Our family, as a result, also never ate Spam. 

You might say, as youngsters, we were Spam-deprived. 

(Oddly, we did often eat Taylor's Ham, a New Jersey-made "pork roll" hardly different from Spam except that, to comply with residents' taste, you would fry it to the consistency of saddle leather.)

Spam, not to be confused with electronic junk mail, has a sovereign past among canned lunchmeats.

Invented in 1937, the pork mash was Minnesota meatpacker Jay Hormel's way of monetizing the least desirable part of the pig, its shoulders.

Cooked and canned in a vacuum so it wouldn't "sweat" while unrefrigerated, the emulsified "miracle meat" got the name Spam at a company New Year's Eve party, when the guests were asked to name Hormel's latest product.

One guest blurted “Spam” and it stuck.

Three years later, 70% of Americans were eating the stuff.

Housewives bought 40 million cans of Spam in 1940, eager to see if Hormel's ad campaign was true: "Slice it, dice it, fry it, bake it. Cold or hot, Spam hits the spot."

But Spam really took off in 1942, when the Pentagon started to buy it—along with every other canned lunchmeat—by the boatload, to feed GIs in Europe and the Pacific.

Over 100 million pounds of Spam were shipped abroad.

The GIs, of course, despised it, saying "it's the real reason war is hell."

But locals felt differently. 

In England and the Asian Pacific, civilians—the majority at the point of starvation—scarfed Spam up, instantly making it a menu staple morning, noon and night.

They called Spam a "godsend." 

Their avidity meant that Spam would find its way onto main courses, served with everything from eggs to fish, toast to rice, cheese to vegies.

And it still is today.

Worldwide, Hormel has sold over eight billion cans of Spam since 1937.

Heroes

A Hero of Liberty is a person who either promoted freedom, faith, or family values.

— Heroes of Liberty website

A new publisher of kids' books hopes to combat wokeism in grade schools with a series of books that glorify so-called "Heroes of Liberty," including John Wayne, Ronald Reagan, Margaret Thatcher, and Amy Coney Barrett.

Fox News has called the series, written for second grade readers, "phenomenal," failing to recognize that it's above the reading-skills of 99% of Fox News' viewers.

As right-wing Supermoms move to ban classics like Maus, Animal Farm and Fahrenheit 451 from curriculums and school libraries nationwide, the Delaware-based publisher has released its first title in the series, John Wayne: Manhood and Honor.

House editor Bethany Mandel, formerly a staff writer at the Heritage Foundation, thinks John Wayne: Manhood and Honor can rescue kids from the wrongs of feminism.

She told Axios the book "counters the narrative that 'masculinity is toxic.'

"Boys are conditioned to behave like women," Mande said. "We wanted to give boy readers a glimpse of a positive male role model who doesn't apologize for being manly and masculine."

While she wants the "Heroes of Liberty" series placed in school libraries, Mandel also wants "inappropriate" books removed.

You can guess what those books might be.

For my part, the only heroes I want to celebrate are the sandwiches that go by that name.

I want to see them removed from federal watchlists and made a standard menu item in every school cafeteria. And I want to see September 14 made a national holiday.

Which is why I recommend Delawarean Vince Watchorn's A Meal in One: Wilmington and the Submarine Sandwich.

A Meal in One tells the story of how the foot-long gut-bomb first came about—and why. It's an enthralling book about poor immigrant laborers and the small-time entrepreneurs who kept them fed.

You want to talk about "family values?"

There are more family values packed between two halves of an Italian roll than than in all the bombast ever spewed by Wayne, Reagan, Thatcher, or Barrett.

None other than President Biden wrote, in the foreword to A Meal in One, "I frequently stop in one of Delaware’s established sub shops to pick up lunch, dinner or a late-night snack without thinking twice about the role the sub played in putting Delaware on the culinary map.

"I must give credit to the Italian-Americans who settled in Delaware’s Little Italy and developed and popularized the culinary creation Wilmingtonians simply and affectionately call the 'sub.'

"I give further credit to Vince Watchorn for publicizing this relatively little-known fact about our proud city to everyone who loves good food."

John Wayne may know a thing or two about manliness, but I prefer my heroes to come with capicola, sweet peppers, and an extra dab of mayo.