When I was a kid, the idea of a ham in a can (from an exotic, far away land like Denmark no less) was fascinating. My parents, raised in the Depression and steeped in frugality, never bought one, which only added to the notion that these were some alluring delicacy and the fare of a people far more aristocratic than us.
As an adult, I now know the pale, slimy horror the colorful can hides, and the desire to buy one is permanently gone along with much of my naivete.
So much of the stuff the world tries to sell us is like that, and the surprising thing is how long it takes us to realize we’re being conned.
