I was driving down to the Keloland studios this morning and couldn’t help but notice a couple things; Hoekness produce stand on the Austad’s east 20th street parking lot had just received another big flatbed full of sweet corn and people in the right lane were making dangerous moves across the flow of traffic so they could gain access to the fresh piles of golden goodness stacked on that trailer. Hoekness has finally wised up, I guess. Some marketing expert has figured out a way to make sure everybody who stops will spend at least five dollars. In the past, you could have all the corn you could carry away at a dollar a dozen provided you bought something else from the stand; a few green beans, a tomato, a cantaloupe, green pepper or even a single potato. Now corn is actually five bucks whether you get one dozen or five. Last week when I stopped, I left disappointed because the supply was picked way too early with under developed kernels that were more white than yellow. Sunday afternoon I gave it another try but the ears were all picked over. So, it was another disappointing departure from my favorite stand and on to the one by Lewis Eastgate where they claim the corn is local but I had my doubts since it was stuffed in what appeared to be Florida gunny sacks. Plus they don’t let you select the ears yourself.
I’d hoped to charm the indifferent young man wearing headphones that made a high pitched buzz sound when he took them off. “Pick me out six of your best ears will ya, there, pally?” Yeah, kill ‘em with kindess, I thought, that’ll humiliate him into treating me right. Wrong. I got home and had only three ears fit to eat. I considered driving back to the stand and shoving those white cobs where the sun don’t shine but thought better of it; instead writing off the experience as further confirmation that society has long since abandoned the golden rule and couldn’t give a fat rat’s patoot about fairness.
I’m not supposed to have sweet corn anyway. Another diet, you know.
As I drove by the swimming pool, which used to be Drake Springs but is now a brand new family aquatic center, I thought about stopping to take a picture and maybe writing a blog about what a short swimming season the pools offer with everybody, including lifeguards, going back to school so dadgum early. What a waste of these beautiful late summer days and fine facilities which shut down after just a few weeks. Maybe that proposed indoor pool is justified. Before snapping a photo, though, I had a vision of a policeman pulling me from my car, squeezing cuffs around my wrists and putting me under arrest for being a suspected voyeur. “But officer, I was just….” “Tell it to the judge ya perv.” I put the Kodak away.
Boy, this whole blog sounds like I’m awfully grumpy. Well, chalk it up to sweet corn deprivation.