Tastes Like  Chicken  Turkey

I was crazy about Gilbert and Sullivan operas when I was little. I listened to The Mikado so much that, at age six or so, I was able to recognize one of the themes from it in a piece by Beethoven. According to my mother, I exclaimed, outraged, that Beethoven had copied Gilbert and Sullivan. 

Although I was troubled, at first, to learn that my beloved Gilbert and Sullivan had perhaps ripped off Beethoven, rather than the other way around, I began to like Beethoven more for having heard The Mikado in it. I believe this experience started an equal appreciation I have for "original" (or "real") and "imitation." They're not the same, but each has its intrinsic value. That appreciation persists, as does the habit of hearing things in other things.

One morning last week, while rushing around, trying to get out of the house on time, I heard Pandora radio doing something weird. It was playing Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, the Qawwali singer, except he was singing--no, it couldn't be a Peter Gabriel song, could it? 

Please tell me: does this remix of Tainu Takda Rawan remind you of Youssou N'Dour singing in Shakin' the Tree?

Having listened again, and again, I still hear the resemblance. (I don't think it was just me not being a morning person.) I haven't found any connection between the recordings, although I haven't done any kind of extensive research. Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan and Peter Gabriel did collaborate, and they performed together. I don't know what, if any, interaction Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan had with Youssou N'Dour. I don't know whether this is a case of two completely separate things sounding like each other, or a case of one artist paying respect to (or being inspired by) another.

In no way do I mean to imply that, of these three artists, one or two are "real" and the others "imitations." Instead I'd like to ask: does real (or original) versus imitation (or rendition or tribute or cover or version) matter, and, if so, why, and under what circumstances?

I'm reminded of a commercial for frozen pizza, also from Pandora radio. In evidence of how well the ad works, I don't remember the brand of pizza. I remember the opening lines, which make the claim that imitation is never as good as real. Knowledgeable Voice-over Man adds, presumably in case we couldn't get that concept in the abstract, "Just ask any guy who's tried to propose with a cubic zirconia." (We learn, at the end of the commercial, that this particular brand of frozen pizza uses real cheese.)

About this fine example of analogy run amok, I'd say, if someone proposed to me, and I happened to want to marry that someone, I wouldn't care whether a ring came with the proposal. And if there was, in fact, a ring with the proposal, I wouldn't care if it were made out of a re-shaped paperclip. I'd care that someone I wanted to spend my life with also wanted to spend theirs with me. Sure, there's a difference between real and imitation, and, sometimes, that is not the point.

Apparently, sometimes that's not the point even in the case of real and imitation foods. I don't usually like meat substitutes, but I went through a brief phase of eating Tofurky, a product made from soy beans that have been molded, colored and flavored to resemble smoked turkey. My two cats, always focused on food, went insane the first time I brought Tofurky into the house. They began climbing up me when I took the sealed package of it out of the shopping bag. When I opened the package, they did their slithery, unstoppable, I-am-everywhere-at-once best to get to that unbearably delectable-smelling fake turkey.

"It's not real, guys," I told them.

They continued to beg.  And climb up me. And jump on the counter. And slither around me and onto the counter from the other side when I tried to block them.

Finally, to prove my point (and to get a little peace in which to make a sandwich), I gave each cat a sliver of Tofurky.

Gone!

Before I could really process what had happened, they'd devoured the fake meat and resumed their efforts to get more.

"Guys, you're eating tofu," I told them. "You're cats! You don't like soy beans."

I don't know what that stuff is flavored with, but the cats have the same reaction each and every time I bring it home. It doesn't taste much like real turkey, as far as I can remember. (I haven't always been a vegetarian.) Clearly, they don't care. They've focused on its intrinsic value. 

(I tried to take a picture of the cats eating Tofurky, but they vacuumed it up too quickly for my camera. I didn't give them a large portion since it's really not a natural food for them. Here, they're doing their staring-deep-into-my-eyes routine, trying to hypnotize me into giving them more imitation meat. )