10 cents a pound
Life is cyclical. There are repeating patterns all around us. Youth, middle age,old age. The sun appears to arc across the sky everyday. It also moves more slowly from south to north in a motion that follows the cycle of the seasons. Some people think about the time of year in terms of holidays. There's Christmas season, and Thanksgiving season, and Easter season. Some people think it in terms of sports. Baseball season, football season, skiing season. I think of the year in terms of food One of the great advantages of living in California is the wonderful variety of fresh fruits and vegetables that are available. Of course thanks to modern technology , fruits and vegetables are available year round. However, these foods are not fresh and they are expensive. Foods taste best when they are in season and there's nothing like buying some produce dirt cheap. It seems to taste that much better. So for me there's artichoke season, persimmon season, pear season, pumpkin (pie) season, and melon season. Each season brings with it the anticipation of a good crop, the conversations with the produce workers at the store, the first taste of the plentiful harvest, the shear ecstacy of enjoying the fruit of the vine in its prime, the sadness as the crops start to fade, the saying goodbye until next year,and the anticipation of the next of nature's wonders. The summer months mean only one thing to me. Melons. Ah, the wonderful and varied California melons, painting their elegant and subtle spectrum. orange Honeydew, green crenshaw, lime casaba, orange Santa Claus, and the ever popular red watermelon. Sometimes new varieties come out such as the seedless watermellon or the yellow watermellon. For my tastes why fiddle with perfection? In June the price of watermelon is around 35 cents a pound. You wait and wait. You watch as the price sinks down to the twenties. The high teens. You feel like a high roller in the stock market. You bide your time. You pump the grocery worker for information about the price outlook. When it starts to peak you make your move. You buy heavy. You fill up your refrigerator. You spend your days looking forward to getting home and cutting off a fat slice of cold melon. The cool sweet juices run down your throat and mouth. I picked up the paper one day in early July. There in big letters were the words, "whole watermelons $.10 a pound at Lucky's". My hand closed over the paper, crumpling it. This was it. Possibly the best price of the year. I jumped into my car and drove over to the store. Lucky's is a big store. In the front of the store were 2 huge bins about 10 feet square that were filled with whole watermelons. Its fun to watch people picking out a watermelon. Everyone seems to have their own method. Some people have an explanation that goes along with it. Others don't worry about that, saying only that they are interested in results.Their system works. One of the most popular methods is the thumping method. You smack the melon as you would smack a bare bottom Usually the person is looking for the melon that emits a hollow sound when smacked. Some people look at the bottom side where the mellon is more white than green. The whiter the better, they claim. It stayed on the ground longer, thus it had longer to ripen, they reason scientifically.Some people go for shape. The most round or the most oblong depending on their tastes. There are those who spot the perfect melon way down under the pile. They must expend a lot of energy in order to move the others around to get to theirs. Others simply ask another person, the produce person or a grandmother type to help them. This is an abrogation of responsiblilty in my opinion. The helper invariably says something like, " This is a sweet one. I guarantee it". And what is your recourse if it isn't sweet. Will that person buy it from you? I picked out 2 medium sized melons using the thumping method, put them into my basket and walked over to the checkout line. There in front of me was an elderly black woman. I peeked into her basket. She had 4 good sized melons in it. I sensed a kindred soul and wanted to say something friendly to her. However I hesitated. There was that nasty stereotype about black people and watermelon. Remember Buckwheat of the Little Rascals chanting ,"I wish I had a watermelon. I wish I had a watermelon" I didn't want the woman to think I was making an ethnic slur. Finally I spoke up "Wow , I found someone who likes watermelon more than I do." She turned and looked at me for a moment and then looked at my cart. Then she smiled and said, "That's right. I do. And they're all for me." This was surprising. When she saw the look on my face she added, "My husband died 2 years ago. I was very depressed for a long time. So I decided I was going to enjoy myself whenever possible. There's not many things I enjoy in life anymore, so when I find one that I do, I let myself go. I don't care what people think. You know, they'll keep for over a week as long as you don't open them and keep them out of the sun." You don't expect this kind of openness at the checkout line. I expressed my condolances then in an effort to change the subject , I said,"I'll tell you what ,I'll guess how much your watermelons cost and you guess how much they are and whoever is closer will pay for the other person's melons. How much do you think your 4 watermelons will cost." She cocked her head to the side, thought for a moment and said, "Oh I suppose about $17." I looked at the melons and made some rapid calculations. About 12 to 15 pounds apiece at 10 cents a pound. "$6.76 ", I guessed. By this time everyone around was looking out of the sides of their heads, not wanting to get involved but interested and curious in spite of themselves. "Do we have a bet", I asked. The old plump woman laughed. "Yeah we have a bet. A just-for-fun bet". I agreed . It was her turn next. The checker was smiling as he put the 4 melons on the scale. sixty seven and a half pounds. He looked up at us and said , "Six dollars and sixty five cents". Everyone broke out into a cheer. I had missed by only one cent. I apologized in mock humiliation for having missed it by 1 cent. I blamed it on my cold. The old woman was astonished. "I had no idea that it would be that cheap" "Good thing you didn't bet ", I said as I turned to pick up the melons and put them back into the shopping cart so she could wheel them out to her car. When I turned to ask her if I could help her carry them to her car, she was gone. I looked around. She was back at the watermelon bin. She picked out 3 more melons and carried them one by one to the counter to be weighed. "I had no idea they were this cheap ", she smiled, not at all embarrassed. I looked back at the other people in line. They were smiling and talking to one another. None of them looked impatient. The woman paid the clerk another $3.45. "You've got your work cut out for you" , I suggested. "That's the kind of work I don't mind." I loaded my 2 watermelons on the scale. $2.45. I thought for a moment and told the clerk to wait just a minute. I ran over to the bin and picked out 1 more big fat one. I paid and put the prizes into my cart. I pushed fast and caught up to the woman. We swapped watermelon stories as I loaded the 7 watermelons weighing over 100 pounds into her trunk. As I drove away, I was thinking about stereotypes, the sadness of death, the bravery of the old woman, and the distance between people. But mostly I was thinking about getting home and that first bite into that first cool watermelon.