'Yes, we have no bananas, we have no bananas today'
songwriters: Frank Silver and Irving Conn
As a song lyric, that's a catchy line, but I wouldn't want to hear it from a vendor when I'm intent on buying a bunch of my favorite fruit. Today there may be no bananas, but it is a good day for a more lighthearted posting.
Since 2016 my posts focused on hot-button issues gnawing at me, none lighthearted: US immigration policy, Covid-19, food insecurity, and the small matter of the pending 2020 election, billed to be the most critical and contentious one of our times. But as November's results unfolded, I felt uplifted, then ecstatic. Despite POTUS 45's continued flailing and failing attempts to undermine the expressed will of the majority, and regardless that less than ten percent of GOP congresspersons have publicly acknowledged President-elect Joe Biden's win or have even called to congratulate him, Joe will be installed as forty-sixth president on January 20, 2021. A breath of fresh air is poised to take the uptown express to Washington. Granted, reason for grave concern remains. The pandemic's tentacles hold us in a tight grip. The choke hold will become even tighter as winter drives everyone indoors, but vaccines are arriving signaling the glow of a flickering light at the end of a long, dark tunnel. Ergo, spinning this tale about my favorite fruit, the banana, no longer has to wait for a brighter day.
Banana, a favorite fruit? You may snicker but aside from my taste preference, there's a great story here. Did you know Eve's 'apple' might actually have been a banana? Or that Central American 'banana republics' rose and fell over the crop, and companies now known as Chiquita and Dole were like Apple and Google of their time? Then there's America's Banana King, Samuel Zemurray - his is a saga of intrigue à la James Bond creator Ian Fleming. The plot weaves together CIA covert operations, Guatemala's civil war, mercenaries, Fidel Castro, US power brokers such as Richard Nixon and CIA operative Howard Hunt, and the deciding vote cast at the UN in 1947 partitioning Palestine into two states. Lastly, there's the race from the jungles of Costa Rica to high-tech labs to save banana plantations across the globe threatened by a blight with no cure in sight.
Out of that whirlwind, I can draw a straight line from dinner at a basketball buddy's house in Framingham to the checkout line at BJs in Stoughton.
Here's the linkage ...
"What'll you have to drink?", my buddy Marc queried as he stood behind his impressive wet bar, a nice little amenity in his newly acquired home.
So I'm thinking a Malbec or Sauvignon Blanc, or maybe going straight for my go-to hopped brew, an IPA. That thought bubble quickly popped. Instead of bottles to uncork or de-cap, from under the counter Marc pulled assorted plastic baggies of cut up fruit, some ice, and a juicer. As savvy as I was about his perimeter jump-shooting accuracy, little did I know Marc was a teetotaler; he was also into health food.
"Do you want red, blue, or yellow (strawberry, blueberry, or pineapple), or a combination?", he asked. Realizing when in Rome, do as the Romans, I went with the flow and opted for blue. Then out from the freezer came the pièce de résistance, a gallon bag of peeled, ripe, frozen bananas - Marc's secret ingredient.
"Can I ask what you do with all those bananas?" she whispered so as not to attract attention. Since buying lots of bunches may be SOP (standard operating procedure) for me but not for her, I searched for a short version of the favorite fruit story you just read. Not quickly coming up with one, I offered an alternate scenario. In a hushed voice, audible only to this perplexed young woman, I said, "pet monkey".
"Oh", she replied, and with that understanding promptly concluded our transaction.
Turns out I liked that on the fly answer and have since used it several more times. As stated before, one can never have too many bananas.
If biting into a frozen treat doesn't warm you heart, I say just try it, you may like it.
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