Hey Kids Don't Forget to Wash Your Bananas

In these days of ten year college reunions and wacky space cults, one has to take a moment to pause and contemplate one's place amongst others. Group memberships are rarely free, they almost always come with some kind of cost attached. And just when you're hooked, that's when they raise the tuition.

The small midwestern college the little guy went to didn't have no fraternities, didn't have no sororities or none of that stuff. But it did, like most any gathering of humans, have its groups and cliques. You had your activists, and your jocks, and your geeks, and your beer club, and your chess club, and your ice cream loving calorie countin' little but ever expanding perky ones. And you had those that never really felt a part of any of the throngs that gathered together. Perhaps these souls wanted to join, wanted that coveted membership, perhaps not. Solitude too comes with its own benefits though the accompanying dues can be difficult for many people to deal with.

Perhaps the best way to better illustrate this is to examine the world of nuts: The most perfect nut, the newsletter endorsed variety, is of course, the pistachio. There is nothing quite as satisfying as sitting down when the day's embers are dimming, as the evening quiet dawns to a nice bag of freshly bought pistachios. We ain't talkin about those messy red ones, we are talking about the ones that all the finest stores carry in masses in a big display next to the peanuts.

The pistachio can be so refreshing; lightly salted, a hint of moisture mixed in with a delectably light taste. One can't stop at eating one!

But sad to say there are those who don't know, or don't in any case want to enjoy our friend, Mr. Pistachio. These lower class types would much rather eat the all popular peanut. Yes, the peanut has its place being the versatile nut that it is. And yes the peanut certainly has earned some of its popularity among the masses. But can something that popular, that available be truly worth it? Those that are too easy, often get a reputation you know.

(Pardon the interruption here but my furry little feline friend just mistimed, misjudged a leap and landed on his tail. A tad ungraceful though he did his best to disguise his gaffe and prance away as if that was what he meant to do. At least he has the excuse of having a walnut sized brain. I have no such excuse to explain myself...)

At the other end of the spectrum is the high brow appeal of the almond. The almond is a fashionable nut, almost too good for its own appeal. With its tip slightly turned upwards, the almond is one nut that some of us can only savor on special occasions. Then you have the flashy curl of the cashew. Open a box of mixed nuts and your attention might fix upon the cashews. Their size and shape certainly are impressive enough. Even those of us rooting for the pistachio have to admire the smooth texture and meaty content of your average cashew. Who doesn't enjoy a good cashew now and then?

The walnut is a little too hard to get. With its thick shell and its rigid texture, the walnut is the type of nut one can take or leave. If there is a bowl placed in front of you, one might partake, but then again, one might not.

Which brings us back to our true love, the pistachio. There's nothing quite as frustrating as a pistachio that doesn't have an opening so you can't crack it open. The sweet nut of the gods within a shell's width away from your taste buds, and still there is nothing you can humanly do to get at it. Sure it's tempting to try to crack it between your teeth but with the thought of a lofty dental bill in mind it's probably a good idea to show a little restraint and move on to the next nut.

I suppose you can get out a hammer and splatter the thing open but it hardly seems worth that much energy and noise to get one little nut when you have a whole bag in front of you. You have to learn to let go and move on to the next.

PISTACHIO NIGHTMARE SCENARIO: Your kind parents buy you a bag of pistachios which you with no shame and no mercy enjoy for a couple of nights. When you get near the end of the bag you carefully leave enough so you can enjoy yourself one last night. You want to savor the presence of your friend as long as you can. You carefully twist the bag shut to maintain maximum freshness and place the bag on top of the Tupperware full of discarded shells. Garbage day comes and you empty the shells into the garbage. Alas when you get home the next night with visions of that bag causing cravings of unbearable desire for the remainder pistachios, you discover you forgot to remove the good pistachios from the empty shells. Your treat is gone. She has broken your heart one more time. All that is left is the memory, a distant time and place. And yet you are still in love. All you can think about is the next time...