Old Apples and the Election

Thomas Jefferson

Thomas Jefferson planted two rows of Newtown Pippin apples at his Monticello home in Virginia. From Paris he wrote that they had nothing there to compare to it.
In 1838, Queen Victoria was presented with two barrels of them.  She liked them so much, she lifted an English export tax on the imported fruit.

The Newton Pippin thrived in Britain until after WWI when the government reinstated the import tax.  And it wasn't until after WWII in America, when the red delicious apple was introduced, that it finally eclipsed many of the historical varieties.

Newtown Pippins, Roxbury Russets, Cornish Gilliflowers, Arkansas Blacks, and Winesaps were just some of the names of the Heirloom or Heritage fruit common on American tables back in Colonial times into the twentieth century.  

Farmers planted them everywhere, growing varieties suitable to the regional conditions—the nutty flavor of the Roxbury Russet, the dense, crisp bite of the Ralls Genet, or one of the best tasting, the Esopus Spitzenberg.

                                                                                        
But with the mass production of the1950’s, farmers discovered they could consolidate most of the orchards into Washington and New York states.  The heirlooms with their distinctive flavors became virtually extinct.

I've never tasted any of them, and now I read they’re making a comeback.  With their freckles, stripes, and other visual peculiarities--they don’t look like apples today--the old are beginning to make a comeback.
 
I can't wait to taste something new that's been old, just because it's been around, just because it used to be valued for its goodness alone.

People want something they can grasp and feel with its own significant texture, flavor, history, and depth--like getting past the skin of the person and discovering his or her genuine emotions, and maybe a bit of the soul. 

Sound familiar?

I guess that’s what I was trying to do with this election, get past the bull and understand why each candidate had made a commitment to run.   But the contests became so vile, so beyond party lines or even issues, that it finally boiled down to an IQ test—which of the liars could score a 100, an average result, on a standard exam.

By the end I applauded the candidate who barely tipped an 80.  I figured they could at least spell their name.    So how did Rand Paul come out on top?  I have no idea, but other thank yous are deserved.

I thank the people who defeated the witch from Delaware.  Or maybe she isn't one.  Maybe she's just a big old dope without a clue to the world around her.

And I thank the voters of Nevada who defeated Sharron Angle.  Do they have rubber rooms out West?  Better get one ready and shove a copy of the constitution inside.

At least now we can all breathe free.  The election is history, congress is still a mess, and I just discovered that I'm going to have a chance to taste some real Colonial fruit.  The question is:  How can the Colonists grow so many nourishing things, while we, with all our technology, nurture dummies and shove them in front of cameras?

Can the Republicans blame that on Obama too?

Of course.  Give ‘em time.