Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘label’

The phrase used by optimistic economists for the last year is starting to come to life. But I’m not going to talk about the economy, or politics, or even Team Blue (which, by the way, needs a mascot, I think … but Blue Devils is taken and I don’t think Blue Balls would go over well for either side, so I could use some input on that). With the Ides of March just around the corner and spring soon to follow, I’m talking about real green shoots, the kind full of chlorophyll that push up from the soil into the sun when the frost leaves and the ground starts to warm.

The resurgence of the “Victory Garden” over the last couple years has been nothing short of amazing. Some seed suppliers are finding themselves overrun with orders and the busy season is just getting started. Widely popularized during World War II, the Victory Garden is essentially a small vegetable patch for a family or similarly sized group of people, providing a source of wholesome food for very little monetary investment. With a less-than-stellar economic situation for millions in the U.S. over the last few years, these gardens have again become popular. For a few dollars worth of seed, a family can enjoy a supply of fresh vegetables for months to come. I’m joining the bandwagon this spring with big plans and elbow grease on stand-by … because one way or another there will be a garden outside my door.

I realized last summer how disgusted I was with the produce offered at local supermarkets. What hasn’t been dropped, crushed, bruised, poked, or otherwise beaten half-unidentifiable costs an arm and a leg. And if it happens to say “organic” on the label, just go ahead and triple the price, no matter how puny, shriveled, or misshapen the items might be. But price aside, that produce has also been doused with god knows what all kind of pesticides, herbicides, fungicides, and – I’m quite certain – people-icides. A few years ago I researched just what went into the classification systems of food products and was astounded at the lack of regulation in what we eat.

To begin with, the vast majority of fresh food in this country is imported, and not just exotics like bananas and mangoes but boring old staples like lettuce and tomatoes. Remember the spinach scare a few years back? Tons of produce tainted with E. Coli were shipped all over America and had to be recalled after people fell ill and some died. It had been imported. The government assured its people that it was an isolated incident. But food marketing in the U.S. is essentially an honor system. If Company A claims its goods are organic, they can market it as such with almost no oversight. Although there are reams of laws and stipulations that should be followed, the chances of enforcement are miniscule. No one is out there testing produce to see what chemicals it has come into contact with. No one is randomly sampling imports (or even U.S. produce) to see if it carries pathogens on its merry way to your plate. Caveat emptor indeed.

And what does all the spraying and genetic engineering and hybridization supply us? Judging from the local supermarkets, rubbish. Most of the produce is picked so green it could sit on display for a month (for those of you who may not know better, “fresh” produce should go off much quicker than that) and has all the subtle flavor of a cardboard box. In an age when I can fly halfway around the world in less than a day, including plane changes and layovers, why is my produce almost old enough to legally drink?

So this year I’m growing my own. Not a lot, but a good variety. And though I’ve a poor history with plants, I sincerely bet the result will be exponentially better than what I find at the store. Surely it can be no worse.

And in an effort to both encourage local business and “stick it to the man,” I’ll be using all heirloom seeds from a small supplier. (Gurney’s and Burpees be damned; I could never get a decent tomato out of them anyway.) When I’ve finalized my plans I’ll post them here just in case anyone should care to join the Victors with a garden of their own.

Oh, and you know what, if you’re tight on funds and worried about getting enough fertilizer for your garden … just use some of that bullshit Washington keeps shoveling at us. Lord knows there’s plenty of it. 😉

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

This morning I accidentally caught part of ABC’s morning show The View, whose hostesses including Whoopi Goldberg and Barbara Walters. I’m not a big fan, even of the network itself, but I happened to see Dolly Parton on the couch while channel surfing and stopped to see what she had to say. Apparently a Broadway musical had opened, based on the popular 1980 movie Nine to Five which starred Dolly Parton, Lily Tomlin, and Jane Fonda and Dolly was on The View to speak up for the musical and her related album. I’m also not a big fan of musicals so my attention drifted to how disconcerting it was that Dolly Parton and Joan Rivers are beginning to look more and more alike. Then something perked my ears up again.

I think it was Joy Behar who made the remark, something about the major record labels not picking Dolly up for her latest album. “What?” I thought. “She’s Dolly Parton … how do you not sign Dolly Parton?” Granted, I’ve never bought one of her albums and think her best days were spent with Porter Wagoner (and yes, I realize a staggering number of readers will not recognize the name of Porter … a shameful thing in and of itself) but Dolly is music royalty. She was there when the foundations of modern country music were being laid down and put in more than a few good bricks of her own. She was inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame in 1999 and the Songwriter’s Hall of Fame in 2001. She’s won several Grammy Awards and was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Original Song … twice. Her voice has been on the radio since 1955 and her recording career spans five decades … but she’s not good enough for Columbia? Arista wouldn’t have her? It’s ludicrous. And since no major music recording label would sign her, she started her own: Dolly Records.

But this all seems eerily familiar. For the last decade of his life, Johnny Cash was shunned by major record labels. A living legend in his own right, John had written over a thousand songs, released dozens of albums, been on the top of the Billboard charts more times than anyone could remember … and no one wanted to sign him. In typical Johnny Cash style, he gave them the finger and signed with Rick Rubin at American Recordings, a small label better known for hard rock and rap. From 1994 to 2002 (and one posthumously in 2006), John released five extremely successful albums with American, winning Grammies, other music awards, and gushing critical acclaim. They are among his best-selling albums.

It seems to me there are several similarities here. I’m not saying Dolly’s albums would be as successful as John’s but to shut the door in her face seems … petty. And greedy. And just plain wrong. Well after P. Diddy and 50 Cent are forgotten, long after the Jonas Brothers go the way of Hanson and the Pussycat Dolls make like Spice Girls and split, the name of Dolly Parton will be going strong. That’s something to be harnessed and capitalized on, not shoved aside and ignored.

And ask yourself this … would those same companies have turned down Cher? Did they pull the rug on Michael Jackson or refuse Madonna? Same stature, different genre, and the only difference is money money money. Madonna is a proven cash cow. Jackson was, too. And while Dolly will likely never hit those heights of dividend for her label, I could never be convinced she would lose their money, either. At any rate, it’s the big recording companies who will lose in the end. It’s just a shame that some of their listening base will lose, too.

On an aside, it was at the Grand Ole Opry, while still in her teens, that Dolly Parton first met Johnny Cash. And he encouraged her to go where her heart took her, and not to care what others thought. For John and George and Loretta and Porter and all the other great voices of our musical past who are overlooked and often outright forgotten … go Dolly.

Read Full Post »