A recent trip to the grocery store tweaked my ever-present disdain for corporate America and their condescending attitude toward the American consumer. I love butter. I mean, I LOVE butter. My mother used to tell the story of how she had a pound of butter out on a kitchen table softening as she was baking something and she looked up to find me, at 2 years old, gleefully stuffing wads of half-softened butter down my gullet. True to my habitual self, when I need butter, I whip over to the dairy section and grab my favorite box of Land o Lakes butter (salted) with the pretty picture of the Native American on the box. Did Native Americans invent butter or something?!?! Anyway, the other day I grab my butter, along with the other items I needed, headed home, stored my groceries and quickly returned to my favorite activity.....staring at the ceiling. Later that evening, I opened my new box of butter and was surprised when I pull out a stick of butter that was half as long as the usual st...