The Poet Laureate of Appetite

"Eat well, of course, avoiding the ninny diets and mincing cuisines that demonize appetite and make unthinkable a tasty snack of hog jowls. We’re all going to die. Might as well enjoy a little fat along the way. (In a 1971 “false memoir” called “Wolf,” written while (Jim) Harrison was convalescing from a fall off a cliff, he suggested curing heartbreak by broiling a two- to three-pound porterhouse, eating it with your hands, followed by a hot bath in which you consume the best bourbon you can buy until the bottle is empty. Then sleep for a day. Ladies and gentlemen, this works.)"
This comes from "Food for the Soul" by Will Blythe, a Feb. 11 New York Times book review of "Returning to Earth" by Jim Harrison.
Harrison, who's been called the Poet Laureate of Appetite (what a great phrase), has said he hungers for a life of "mental heat, experience, (and) jubilance."
For more on Harrison, click here.
Interesting. On the one hand you have this guy whom Thoreau would describe as "sucking the marrow out of life" (which to Thoreau was a good thing); then there's the other extreme of a person who is too cautious, too reticient, too conservative.
Short of falling into some sort of addiction, I'd say Harrison is on to something. Shouldn't life be full of, well, life? Or do we play it safe, not to offend or ruffle feathers? Do we worry too much about what others might think about a life fully lived?