Stan Geiger

Tuna Shrinkage

I've been eating canned tuna since I was a boy. The cans in the stores today look no different to me than they ever have. But what's inside, well, that's another story.

Looking to throw together a tuna samish not long ago, I opened up a can. I pressed the lid down to drain off the water. The lid went half way to the bottom of the can. I hadn't purchased a can of tuna; I bought half a can of tuna and half a can of water.

But hey, I might just be imagining things. Maybe I'm a crazy man, suffering hallucinations. Perhaps. But not according to the fine folks at Betty Crocker.

I've been known to eat a dose of Tuna Helper on the odd occasion. I don't eat it on any kind of regular basis, but it's easy and filling and sometimes I get lazy.

I don't buy the stuff on every trip to the store; it's overpriced. I mean I'm only going to pay so much for a pouch of powder and a handful of pasta. But a couple of weeks ago, I found it on sale for a buck a box. I picked one up.

A few days ago, I was toying with the notion of whooping up a batch. I wasn't sure I had the goodies necessary, however. I read the instructions and found I was woefully lacking. I had no tuna and my milk had gone bad. So much for that dinner plan.

But in the course of my reading, I found something new. The instructions now call for two cans of tuna, not one.

Pathetic. The amount of tuna in a can of tuna is now so small the recipe for Tuna Helper had to be changed. Of course, unless you have x-ray vision, you can't see what you are buying when you grab a can from the shelf.

Another example of usury in America.

---