My dear husband, Terry McFadden, in the picture below, has always dreamed to become a vegan.

“Other children liked to pretend that they were Batman or Superman, or Spider-woman,” he says, in his sweet Oklahoma accent, from his top-floor apartment overlooking Virginia Av. Park, in Santa Monica. “What I liked to pretend was that I was an Indian yogi, or one of them (sic) crazy hippies from San Francisco, and that I fed on arugula seeds.”

Life happens, though. Terry grew up to be the cutest boy in the Bible-Belt, but knowing that he owed his charms and good looks to cows and chicken fed on hormones and raised in cages made him extremely unhappy. He moved to California and decided to be a vegetarian.

“And one day, I’m gonna be a full-on vegan,” he said, raising a defiant fist to the sky.

Unfortunately, being a vegan is expensive. Organic produce at the local farmer’s market can be forty to fifty times the price of the produce at the 99¢ store, and dinner for two at Café Gratitude, with drinks, taxes, and tip can be anywhere between $600 and 2 billion dollars.

“I don’t want to buy food where poor people go,” Terry says, with a broken voice. “I want to go to Whole Foods and Bristol Farms, and, if Carlos and I ever get babies, I have my eye on this FABULOUS pram that I saw at Petit Trésor that would be just perfect for the Ocean Park Farmers market.”

He makes a short pause and turns to the window. Outside, the soft California rain seems to be an allegory of his unhappiness.

“I can’t keep ordering sofritas at Chipotle. I want to be a full-on vegan.”

Carlito, of course, suffers too. He would like to buy Terry everything he deserves. Organic seaweed salad. Organic edamame pasta. He wrote a book, which has been highly praised, but most of you heartless monsters haven’t bought it yet because you probably hate Terry. One only wonders: maybe if Love or the Witches of Windward Circle became an international million-dollar success, Terry would be able to become a full-on vegan and show all them nasty people from Oklahoma that don’t believe on Terry’s will-power?

I’m just gonna drop a link here, to Amazon. And one here, to Barnes and Noble. And a final one here, to Indie Bound, just to see what happens.

“I wish I could afford classes to learn to make my own vegan raw cashew cheese,” Terry says brushing off a tear. “I’ll guess I’ll have to do it with a non-organic can of black beans with added sugar from Ralphs.”