The Love of Spinach
“I’m strong to the finish, cause I eats me spinach, I’m Popeye the sailor man.” Toot, Toot.
I grew up watching the Popeye cartoon every time it came on TV. Of course, that influenced my enjoyment of eating spinach. Who wouldn’t want to be strong to the finish? On closer examination of Popeye, I am glad that it was only the spinach that I admired. Granted eating spinach did not make me strong to the finish, let alone the middle or even the beginning, but it tasted good, especially since my mom 
always made creamed spinach, which was much tastier than straight up boiled spinach. In the Bronx, where I grew up, I don’t remember my mother ever getting, if was even available, fresh spinach. We always ate the packaged frozen variety.
Back to Popeye. His physical appearance was not one that I ever wanted to emulate. Though he was strong, his arms were definitely deformed. They were skinny at parts and bulky at others, especially after he downed a can of spinach. Also, who wouldn’t want an animated picture showing up on your arm after consuming a vegetable. Well, to be honest, tattoos were never my thing, though having a video screen on my arm would have been cool. It is interesting to note, that now, with my Apple watch I do have a video screen on my wrist. But having one built in instead of strapped on would have been a perk growing up.
Then there was Popeye’s pipe. It certainly looked cool. I might have had a fake corn cob pipe to pretend with, but as with tattoos, smoking has never been my thing. I have through 
the years collected a number of instruments, like train whistles and bird calls, that when blown through, as Popeye used to do with his pipe, make noises or emulate real sounds.
And finally, there was Popeye’s language and speech patterns. His favorite thing to do was to mutter under his breath a commentary on his reactions to what people were either doing or saying to him. It wasn’t until I was much older that I understood all the innuendos of the things he was saying, certainly nothing that a child should be muttering out loud, without risking some parental consequences. I must say that in that regard, I do tend to mutter to myself or others nearby some of my thoughts and reactions, when things are said or done near me, though not in the vulgar Popeye sense. This happens a lot while I’m driving. In that respect, sometimes they may get a little vulgar and suggestive. You all know what an enema is. But these are never shared aloud to the perpetrators of said actions and most of the time, they are only said in my head.
So I’m glad that of all these actions and characteristics of Popeye that the one that stays closest to me is spinach. That’s because as Popeye would say, “I yam, what I yam.” Then again, yams are a whole different story.
