herbivore photo by Steve Rodenbough tales from an F by Jordy Byrd or most, their twenty first birthday signifies a painful accumulation of time through adolescence, puberty, and at last into early adulthood. For me, turning twenty one changed my life. Hello, my name is Jordy and I'm a vegetarian. It's been about nine months since my last piece of meat. Dramatic as it sounds, my transition into the vegetarian lifestyle was all but mellow. My family ate meat. I mean, really ate meat. Bear, elk, venison, you name it. So long as it had four legs, feathers, or fur, my father thought it was edible and my mother knew a recipe for it. I on the other hand, never really liked the stuff. Needless to say, Betty Crocker's meat-filled cookbooks made childhood a nightmare. Over the years I edited my eating habits, but it wasn't until my twenty first birthday that it all came together. The month of my birthday, I decided to cook rosemary chicken. Without thought, I bought a bird and headed home. Arduously following the recipe's directions, I unwrapped the chicken for a salt scrub. Feeling a little uneasy, I managed to get the chicken, including the bags of organs, out and into the sink. This seems like a small accomplishment, but for me it was a culinary marathon. Naked chicken, hot water running and salt shaker ready, I began to cry. Bawl, actually. You know the type, with gasps and panting. There was no more hiding it, 2 | November 2008 | Q View Northwest - Spokane Edition | www.qviewnorthwest.com