Trader Joe's Tuesday Treats: End Times Edition

Chomps Natural Beef Sticks

It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.

In case of emergency.

The average human being alive today—particularly in the United States—lives much longer and far better than our ancestors could have ever imagined. Technological marvels abound. At our fingertips, a cornucopia of comestibles and consumer goods. Top of the line medical care, for those who can afford it, amounts to a modern scientific miracle.

This is as good as it gets. Yet here we are, in free fall. At some point in the last twenty-five years, we hit our peak (as a people? as a nation? as a species?) and have since tumbled with disturbingly increasing velocity.

I’ve never read

Francis Fukuyama

’s 1992 book The End of History and the Last Man. But that term—the end of history—endures in my mind, and in the zeitgeist. It perfectly encapsulates the sensation that first crystallized on September 11 and has only intensified ever sinse. It’s about the fall of the American empire, and the beginning of the end of the human era along with it.

I believe Fukayama coined the term to describe a static post-Cold War endgame rooted in western-style capitalist democracy, if not hegemonic American global leadership itself. Ironically though, when I think of the end of history, I picture the exact opposite: the inevitable downfall of a once-dominant United States too hubristic to anticipate and fend off its own self-destruction.

In a sense, the slow and steady elimination of our democratic freedoms shouldn’t really come as a surprise. Following a collective, decades-long surrender to climate devastation, why would we be expected to put up much of a fight on behalf of something as esoteric as “the constitution.”

It was fun while it lasted. This was as good as it gets. Better to live under a flawed democracy than no democracy at all. Better to struggle through a period of widening inequality than stagflation or outright depression.

Perhaps it was a myth, that particular cornerstone of the American dream: the idea that grit and good fortune would endlessly elevate each generation to greater heights of privilege and success. Perhaps we were naive to convince ourselves that any system predicated on the infinite exploitation of finite resources made any sort of sense—economically or ecologically.

Either way, the chickens are coming home to roost. The cows are coming in from pasture. Enjoy your wagyu burgers while you can.

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Those of us who have been blessed to grow up in the tender bosom of privilege, the United States, are now reckoning with the jarring and emotionally disorienting experience of one day having it all and the next day watching it all slowly slip through our fingers. It is really a lot to handle.

I know, I know. These are first world problems. Don’t feel too bad for me, and don’t feel too bad for yourself. But don’t hide from your feelings, either, and don’t let the deeply uncertain future ahead of us terrorize you into inaction.

When I moved out to Los Angeles, I was reluctant to invest in an emergency-preparedness “go bag,” complete with rations, medical supplies, and other essentials. I was plainly in denial that I might ever need such a thing. We don’t have earthquakes back in Minnesota. Eventually, though, I overcame my discomfort and made a go bag which actually did come in handy earlier this year. I only left my West Hollywood apartment to avoid the fires for one night, but I was grateful for the preparedness when I did.

You may not live at the juncture of multiple major fault lines, and you may not live in an area that is prone to wildfires even in January. But wherever you live in the United States, you are navigating a fascist reign of terror for some and a campaign of disorder and destabilization for all. And it is going to get much worse before it gets better, if it ever even does.

So be prepared. Yes, you should drink water and seek therapy and meditate and work out and garden and laugh and listen to music and go to church if that’s your thing. Yes, you should march and protect your neighbors and become more politically active. Good lord, should you be radicalized. But you should also be prepared.

That means packing a go bag, which among other things ought to contain some seriously high-protein shelf-stable foods. Yes, I’m talking beef sticks. And for that, Trader Joe’s has you covered with Chomps Natural Beef Sticks.

The “Chomps at the Beach” starter kit.

Full disclosure: I was contacted by a marketing professional on behalf of Chomps asking me to feature their products in my Trader Joe’s Tuesday Treats. I was amused and delighted by the unsolicited request; no funds were exchanged, but I did receive a hilariously large Chomps promotional swag box complete with a branded bucket hat, thermos, canvass tote bag and beef stick variety pack.

To any other marketing rep who may be reading this: yes, I can be bought for a very low price. If you or a company you represent sells products at Trader Joe’s, slide into my DMs.

The magic of LinkedIn…

Within the category of beef sticks, Chomps may well be the best of the bunch. They are natural, grass-fed, and minimally preserved. That means unlike, say, a Slim Jim, the Chomps you store away in case of emergency will need to be consumed and replaced sooner than the more chemically-encased alternatives.

Fair warning: I don’t actually like these beef sticks. But If I were in a situation where I needed to eat a beef stick, I would choose Chomps. And I’m not just saying that because they sent me this stupid hat. This is a Trader Joe’s Tuesday Treats, after all—the retailer wouldn’t carry this product if it wasn’t up to snuff.

While I still can, I’d much prefer to eat my beef the old-fashioned way: grilled under a slice of melted American cheese and served on a toasted brioche bun. Things may be falling apart, and right quick. Get your go bag ready. Until you need it, though, you might as well eat like a king.

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