Peaches
The Gott Brothers sold fruit by the side of the 550 ten
years ago, and for a few years after.
The road widening project and other legal matters had them selling in a
building in Colorado and it just wasn’t the same. Today they were back, in New
Mexico, by the side of the road. I stopped for peaches and learned so much.
Peaches from the store are picked green, stored for a long
time, and eventually ripen from the outside in.
Peaches picked and sold by the side of the road are picked ripe, stored
for no more than two days, and ripen from the inside out. The store bought peaches are perfect to the
eye, but have no juice or flavor. ( I already knew that) The
side of the road peaches bruise each other in the box, in the bag and all the
way home. But, when you slice into a roadside
peach, it bleeds juice. And when you put
it in your mouth, it says PEACH! PEACH! PEACH!
I keep thinking about how students see me as ancient, and
about how our culture is so afraid of old people they have to make laws against
discrimination – for those over 40! Most
of us over 55 will tell you our 40s were still cake, still easy, still not
old. I feel like a roadside peach – even
bruised I’m juicy and sweet and MYSELF, MYSELF, MYSELF! You can replace me with a perfect looking
peach, big and pink and not bruised at all, well you can try.
In the schools, the old teachers (not the engineers) are your roadside peaches. We stayed in school and wrote real
theses. We didn’t do unsupervised, paid
internships. We taught for a year, for free, under close supervision. We were not picked too
green and refrigerated on the shelf until the market wanted to sell us for
consumption. The profession wanted us just like we were. And those store bought
peaches? It’s not their fault. They are collateral damage in the struggle
for meaningful work and merciful governments.
Eat a peach; listen to the Alman Brothers or Frank Zappa (Peaches and Regalia) while doing
so. If you don’t know what I’m talking
about, you’ve got Google.
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