Refrigerator Copy
Column published the week of October 20,
2008 www.theleeonline.com © 2008, Lee Ostaszewski
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Carving Out a New Economy |
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By Lee
Ostaszewski Americans are nervous about the state of
our nation’s economy following recent events including the mortgage crisis,
the federal bailout, the stock market crash, and now a worldwide shortage of Palin glasses.
Many are wondering: If the economy continues its downhill trend, will
only the well-to-do and Alaskan politicians be able to afford stylish
eyewear? The answer is: Yes. Until things turn around the rest of us
will be forced to purchase those Buddy Holly-type glasses. They are similar to the first pair my
parents bought for me when I started wearing glasses in the first grade. They were thick, black plastic frames that
came conveniently pre-broken with masking tape holding the nose bridge
together. I’m just kidding. This is And what, you might ask, is that
glimmer? And how much, exactly, have I
been drinking? The answers, in reverse order are not
enough and a pumpkin. More precisely, it was thousands of
pumpkins. These days, being October
and with Halloween just around the corner, everywhere you look there are
large cardboard crates filled with bright orange pumpkins for sale. You might be thinking, “So what? There are crates of pumpkins for sale every
October.” Well that would be my point, if I was
going to make one. Pumpkins have
become such a staple every autumn that few of us ever stop to consider where
the hell all these pumpkins come from. I mean, there are a lot of pumpkins out
there. Someone’s growing them,
someone’s shipping them, someone’s distributing them to the stores, and
someone is selling those pumpkin carving kits that, from the pictures |
shown on the front of the
box, convinces your children that by purchasing it anyone can carve an
incredibly intricate pumpkin design that is only slightly less impressive
than the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. This is an entire industry based on an
agricultural product that we don’t even eat, except for perhaps a few cans of
pumpkin pie filling. Acres and acres
of agricultural farmland are used to grow what is essentially a squash on
steroids. It is being done, not to
feed the masses, but so that dads all across the Once the pumpkin has been disemboweled,
disfigured, placed on the front steps, and nearly set on fire by the lit
candle inside it, I estimate it takes on average about five seconds before a
delinquent teenager comes along and smashes the jack-‘o-lantern in the
street. Think about the implications. Our economy has an entire industry based
solely on growing a specific type of genetically freakish produce that is in
high demand for only a few weeks of the year, the only purpose it serves is
decorative, and which generally ends its useful life scattered in the middle
of the road in thousands of pieces of pumpkin shrapnel. Does any of that sound like an economy
on the verge of collapse? Granted, if the economy continues to
turn south, even the pumpkin industry could suffer. This might lead to the federal government
giving out pumpkin farmer subsidies or, better yet, perhaps finding a way to
use the surplus pumpkins to produce an alternative biofuel
so that when we are following a car running on pumpkinhol, it smells like
we are following a two-door, four-cylinder pumpkin pie. This wouldn’t be a bad thing. Sure, tough
economic times are ahead, but we are Americans. We won’t be down for long. If we can make a thriving industry out of
an oversized squash, then we can remake a newer, stronger economy for the 21st
century out of pretty much anything. ■ |