I admit it.

I’m guilty.

I used to eat my chili with Saltine crackers.

I didn’t need a spoon. I had crackers.

I’m a graduate of the Elvis Presley School of Eating.

Eating chili with a cracker took some athleticism and it was a good idea not to wear a necktie while doing so.

Sure, I’d bite a finger on occasion, but it was a small price to pay.

There is something blissfully delightful about plopping a piece of chili-sodden soda cracker into my gaping maw.

It tickles my palate, this culinary delight.

Sometimes I’d put a slice of American cheese on the cracker. I like cheese and it’s interesting in its own whey.

Yes, I ate my chili with a soda cracker.

After all, it all mixes together in my stomach.

Some things we know instinctively. No one in my family ate chili this way.

I was ecstatically unaware of the societal sin I was committing.

I should add that this is a trait most likely seen in the human of the male persuasion. Women don’t do this so often.

Statistics have shown that women are 61.3 percent less likely to eat chili with a cracker instead of a spoon. I think it’s because the rib that was taken from Adam to create Eve was the rib that controls etiquette.

Eating chili with a cracker isn’t proper etiquette, of course.

Eating with a cracker is not appropriate table manners.

Etiquette is one of those things that imposes a lot of hardships on men like me who without the restraints of etiquette would conduct themselves in a free-and-easy manner. I’m a free spirit. I have absolutely no hang-ups. That explains why my clothes are always on the floor.

Without the rules of proper etiquette we would stumble through life, smiling, eschewing napkins to wipe our hands on our pants and our mouths on our sleeves. If we were forced to use a napkin, we’d tie it around our neck instead of putting it on our lap. This makes sense, as blue jeans clean

easier than shirts.

We’d use toothpicks in public. We’d applaud when a skilled practitioner of the dental bodkin would elevate his social standing thanks to his toothpickian art. Such a person would not be eliminated from guest lists. His skills in toothpickery would earn him a coveted position on the A-list of guests.

We would dine with our elbows resting comfortably on the table. And we would eat our chili with Saltine crackers.

I know what you’re thinking. You are thinking that all of you nonconformists are alike.

Well, you are wrong.

But I’ve been rehabilitated.

I no longer eat my chili with Saltine crackers.

We stop doing things we don’t want to stop doing.

I try to take disappointment in stride. I try to. Instead, I tend to take disappointment with much whining and gnashing of teeth.

I once sat next to a fellow who ate his chili with Graham crackers. I expect Dr. Phil will be dealing with him. He’s the same fellow whose wife married him because he was a divorced man. She felt that marrying a divorced man is ecologically responsible. In a world where there are more women than men, it pays to recycle.

He’s the fellow who told me that his kid sister reminded him of Dorothy in Oz. She seemed to be only attracted to men who are cowards, have no heart or are in need of a brain.

I digress.

I don’t know who the guy was who first decided that chili and crackers should be eaten separately, but I have found this technique to be inhumane.

Now I am forced to crumble crackers into my chili.

There are those who would like to file a cease and desist order regarding the ingestion of chili or

any soup in this manner. The only soup that would be immune to this order would be oyster stew and those cute little crackers that are known to hang out in the same bowls as oyster stew.

Who sets our code of etiquette?

Some diabolically clever person who writes a book.

We conform or we are socially unacceptable. We become untouchables.

It’s easy for people who are not hungry to have good table manners.

I say that we need a public referendum on some real important matters. Things like eating chili with crackers instead of a spoon, proper placement of a napkin, elbows anchored on a table and toothpick usage.

We must stop the insanity.

(Hartland resident Al Batt writes a column for the Tribune each Wednesday and Sunday.)