Ah, the joys of growing old.  My latest checkup revealed that I’ve allowed my weight to sneak up (about 14 pounds since my last doctor’s appointment) and my sugar numbers to spike back up into pre-diabetic territory.  I blame it on several different dietary indiscretions, including consuming hundreds of Altoids that I mistakenly believed were sugar-free (yikes!) and eating way too much bread.  Consequently,  I have returned – after quite a long hiatus – to Jimmy John’s, the subway chain which offers its sandwiches as bread-less lettuce wraps.  They are called Unwiches,  and when I undertook my big diet two years ago,  they saved my life by giving me the pleasure and convenience of sandwiches without all of that naughty bread.

My abandonment of Jimmy John’s, which began a little over a year ago,  had nothing to do with the food- and everything to do with a photo I saw online which showed the owner of the company – John Liautaud – proudly posing with his kill on an African safari.

This photo and several others very similar to it quickly went viral – and prompted a number of people (although I have no idea how many) to boycott Jimmy John’s – and I was one of them.  But I feel like it wasn’t a particularly conscious decision on my part- and I’m actually shocked that I reacted as strongly as I did.   This was not an issue to which I have devoted any time or attention or energy (or money) over the years. (I don’t morally object to hunting in general,  if it’s done within reason and within the letter of the law.)    And I’m not sure I could even state in so many words exactly why these photos had such a powerful effect on me. I know that I didn’t stop to weigh any pro’s and con’s.  I saw these images and instantly lost all interest in the food at Jimmy John’s, just like that.  I suppose this  made my little silent boycott a little less morally impressive because I wasn’t making the difficult choice of bypassing something that I really loved and hated to give up.   Boycotting Jimmy John’s was the easiest thing in the world to do because their food no longer appealed to me.  So in effect,  I wasn’t giving up anything I loved.   (At that point, boycotting Jimmy John’s was roughly akin to me giving up oysters for Lent.)

But thanks to this news from the doctor, I’m back to eating Unwiches, at least from time to time.  (It’s funny how being borderline diabetic can restore one’s taste for something.)   It has me thinking about the complicated, twisted tangle of issues that this kind of situation raises.   Chances are just about every CEO of just about every major company does something or has done something I might not like – and in other cases, it might be that a company itself has policies of one kind or another to which I might object.   Is there a difference between boycotting a company over their policies versus a boycott for objecting to what the owner has done?  And what if we are objecting to something that violates no law but rather violates our own personal preferences?  Where is the line that I simply cannot cross?  At what point are my objections so serious that I simply must take a stand?  What should I be weighing in making such decisions?   Or do I simply follow my gut instincts on the matter?  Someone a lot smarter than me maybe knows the answer to that. I don’t. Not yet, anyway.

In the meantime, here are two observations.   First,  I think there is something rather exhilaratingly American about Voting With Your Wallet.  It nicely embodies the essential sense of personal freedom that we hold so dear.  It is a way to act on a conviction beyond simple words. It’s also one way to gain a sense of what we believe and how much we believe it – and whether or not we are willing to give or withhold our money because of it.  (Putting our money where our mouth is, as the old saying goes.)   I NEVER shop at Menard’s because I think it’s a terrible company that does all kinds of terrible things AND its owner, from what I understand, is a reprehensible human being.  Of course,  the fact that there’s a Home Depot right down the road from it makes it very easy to bypass it – and I’m not the kind of Mr. Fix-It guy who’s perpetually replacing the blades in his table saw.   Still,  though my little boycott obviously has no effect whatsoever on Menard’s,  it gives me a strange sense of pride and satisfaction to take my business elsewhere.  It’s maybe even exhilarating.

Of course,  this can run in very different directions. The freedom for one person to boycott Cracker Barrel over discriminatory policies against gay couples is the very same freedom that allows someone else to stop shopping at JC Penny because Ellen DeGeneres (who happens to be a lesbian) is their spokesperson.  That’s part of the messy reality of who we are – and it’s a reality that we find ourselves confronting in new and sometimes disconcerting ways.  Which prompts my second observation:  I hope we never get to the point where all of the liberals go to McDonalds and all of the conservatives  go to Burger King.  We are already so politically segregated,  and I don’t see how we can ever come together and find new understanding with each other if we’re never in the same room together – or can’t bring ourselves to eat the same kind of sub sandwich.

I have no idea if the owner of Jimmy John’s is still shooting beautiful animals in the wilds of Africa.   I hope not.  But if it is,  I hope he’s also donating money to worthwhile charities or doing something else that makes the world a better place.  And meanwhile, I’m back to eating Unwiches again – and doing a lot of thinking.

Both are good for me.