Dave Thomas, the avuncular founder and president of Wendy's, passed away today. Very sad, on two fronts.

The first is that Dave was one of those self-made people whose story was truly inspirational. Here's a guy who started life as an orphan, never graduated high school, and worked his way up to starting one of the best fast food chains in the country. He retired but then went back to running the company because he didn't think the new people cared enough about the consumer. He went back and got his high school equivalency in 1993. When he was 61. He contiunally did what he could to promote adoption, writing books, starting a foundation, and testifying before Congress.

And he still managed to come off as a simple burger chef in commercials. I'd like to think that most people in his situation would have reacted the same way once they made it big. But the truth is that most of us would probably wallow in our own crapulence and hire someone to be folksy in commercials.

Human interest aside, it's also sad as it marks another spokesperson from my youth who has passed on. Dave, the Colonel, Orville Reddenbacher, James (or was it Bartyle?), Madge (Nancy Walker's Palmolive-pushing waitress). All advertising fixtures that someone my age (and younger for most, older for those of you who remember Madge) could identify, gone and replaced by idiots like Steve, Dell's ADD-suffering slacker.

I was surprised to find that Frank Perdue was still alive. Typed his name in at Yahoo, and the first thing to come up was this.

Which leads me to wonder just what a chicken sanctuary must look like. Or, perhaps more appropriately, smell like. The Eastern Shore of Maryland may be a good place for such a thing, given that it's a little less populated. On the other hand, I cant imagine the fisherman and other long-time residents cotton to people who, given the resources, would like to liberate every Thanksgiving turkey and Christmas goose they can find.

I have to admit to not understanding animal rights activists very well. There are facets to their concerns that I can agree with. Endangered species shouldn't be killed so you can make an aphrodisiac out of their ground horns. Veal, while tasty, is created via a fairly horrifying process. Fur may or may not be murder, but it's usually ugly and pretty much obsolete in a world of Thinsulate and Gore-Tex.

But I'm usually at a loss when it comes to people who place quotations around the word food when talking about poultry. The many tactics of PETA usually confuse me, too, but their actions tend baffle me in that they (a) often fail to attract mass appeal (remember the billboard asking Rudy Guiliani if he'd "got cancer?" from drinking milk, and (b) point to a humourlessness that makes members of PETA hard to sympathize with. Though it the Guiliani thing was their best attempt at humor, perhaps they should stick to over-earnest seriousness.

Hmm, not sure how I got on to this from Dave Thomas. I suppose I could complete the circle by going to the Wendy's in Natick and having a Big Bacon Classic, but I've already put something out for dinner.

Chicken.