Sanders: Loco What?
As any woman knows, someone, somewhere else dictates what clothing choices are available in stores for any given season. Never mind that the fabrics being currently used are uncomfortable and hot for summer, and sleezy looking at any time of year. Unless you are a seamstress, it is pretty much take it or leave it. I say, leave it. My clothing style is “classic” anyway, loosely translated that means I can keep wearing the same garments I’ve had for several years and they are still in style. Well, not really in style, but in my closet and I like them.
Now that “One Book Colorado” (or any other state) is popular, someone somewhere else is telling us what book we must all read, if we are to be considered intellectually stylish in any given year. For some reason, Baxter Black’s or Erma Lee Pitts’s books never seem to be selected. I guess I’ll never be a fashionable reader, either. But as Jerry Lee Lewis sings, “I know what I like!”
We hear about classic movies too. Who decides? Is there a definition? Is it based on sales receipts, longevity, or something else? Considering the movies that win Oscars and are considered the tops for the year, it is obvious that people with opinions very different from mine are making the selections. It seems that an antique item is required to be at least 50 years old to be considered a verifiable antique. One would think that classic would have such a definition but when a book or movie comes out and within a year it is deemed a classic, it’s difficult to follow the logic.
That brings me to this: who decides current trends in food? A new word in the current lexicon is locovore, meaning someone who eats foods that are produced within 100 miles. It is as though this is a totally new phenomenon. Rural residents have known about it and done it forever. We just didn’t have a name for it. My great-grandparents and grandparents ran orchards and truck gardens and delivered produce over a large geographical area. Twenty-five years ago we raised sweet corn, picked it at five in the morning and our sons and I took it to a town 60 miles from the ranch, to sell on the street corner. I remember the boys getting so mad when someone would ask our price, then retort, “I can buy it for half that at the grocery store over there.”
Never mind the store’s corn was at least a week old, likely older, and ours was undeniably fresh. These days we could sell it for a nice premium as it would fit into the locovore rage. It is a chic restaurant that serves local fare, or claims to, but I have my doubts that it can be a practical matter especially in the middle of winter. Perhaps their menus are very limited at that time of year, or they aren’t entirely honest with their clientele.
But, what do you expect with the prefix “loco” in the word? ❖
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