Wednesday, August 30, 2017

THE ECLIPSE OF THE CANTALOUPES


SONG: "O give me a can-ta-loupe...
           with some bla-a-ack-eyed peas,
          and some co-o-o-orn bread..." 
TUNE: "Home On The Range"



Time was--once't---when you could go 
into a cantaloupe store and buy ten of
those marvelous nutritious melons and 
nine of them would be just grand.

Nowadays you can reverse that number---
nine would be too green, too ripe, not
sweet, or some weird taste has crept into 
their current DNA, or whatever.

Or do cantaloupes even have...DNA? (It
would take a year to get a report back, 
even on your favorite soap opera.)

It has got so bad that a friend of mine, off
down in the glorious state of Florida, told
me awhile back in the summer: "Wal, I like
my cantaloupes, you know, a half, unseeded
and scraped out and all, and then packed 
with vanilla ice cream...but it seems like we
have to take most of 'em back , anymore, for 
a refund or replacement."

This year we have eaten about ten/twelve
and have purchased these at several different
stores, and twice BE has brought home two-
at-a-time (when they struck her as "looking
just right.") They weren't.

THE PLAN is that she brings in the grub in
sacks and I get my cutting board out and my
beloved crooked six-inch serrated knife
and bone the big roasting chicken and cut
up other stuff for salads...that sort of thing.

And she usually cuts the cantaloupe over 
at the sink and takes care of the juice and 
seeds...and then I do my thing. Chop, chop.

It's got to where, when her knife hits the 
melon, she's already saying "Oh no, another
green one."

I eat'em anyway. Have you ever checked 
the vitamins in a "lope?" They are heart-
friendly. About as good as sweet potatoes,
romaine lettuce, and tomatoes for health.

Regarding melons, used to, back in the good
old USA, when I was a kid, we'd roll in our 
old '41 Chevy into Pop's driveway down in
Dawson County ("In the land of cotton...Look
away, look away...") and he'd in summer have
six or eight big fat watermelons lying just
across the fence from the clanging windmill---
in the cool shade of a big elm, right under the
kitchen window...on the green, green grass
of home...

After all the hugs, and hellos, and "My you've
grown a foot!" (to the kids), all the uncles and
Dad would have their turns at thumping the 
melons. Checking them out... a ritual...

As befitting farm folk of the time, some were
rather dramatic and pseudo-expert looking
in their thumping...and folks would hang
on their opinions..

The kids took their turns at thumping and
usually showed no originality, merely echoing
their favorite adult's  evaluation: "RIPE!"

Now BE and I are pretty well read, and I guess
"up to date" somewhat on stuff and have both
tried to learn all the tricks about selecting
cantaloupes....

But I reckon we've missed the secret.

We can't pick 'em. There it is: "Make the most 
of it!"

Unless, there are no good ones anymore.....and 
they are all...

Eclipsed.....   somehow
-----------
Yes, I know, the song above...needs work.
------------
MIL
26 AUGUST 17

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