Setting the record straight

So, on a recent Saturday I had a day with not much to do. It was cold out; I wasn't going anywhere.

Since I am an avid user of Amazon and I'd ordered many things throughout the holidays and for the weddings, I decided to do some helpful product reviews.

I took pictures of things I'd bought for Christmas and birthday presents, of the pretty dresses Melanie and Allissa and Dagny will wear in Erica's wedding, of some bridesmaids' gifts, and of a few household items I'd recently purchased.

The purpose of the photos was to enhance my reviews. I always read reviews before buying something on Amazon. I rely on them. And I love the ones with pictures.

Black on black, talking smack

Remember when I redesigned the photo table, in time for Christmas? That re-do involved buying a new tablecloth. The old one was a black shadow stripe; the new one is a black-on-black plaid.

I wrote the review, explaining that since the tablecloth stays on the table under glass and doesn't get whipped off and washed on a whim, its drape was important to me, and the ability to spot-clean it when necessary.

As the tablecloth was black, I knew that, like its predecessor, it would eventually fade and have to be replaced. So I praised my new tablecloth's design and fabric, declaring it pretty wonderful for my purposes, especially at the price point.

You get an email shortly after clicking submit, thanking you politely for contributing, and providing a link to your live review.

Only, my review was rejected. I was told it did not conform to the rules of the Amazon community.

? ? ? ? ?

I read over my review again. What rule had I broken? In what way had my language wandered beyond the pale?

Was it the word black? Was it black-on-black? Was it the descriptive term shadow stripe? Was it the word drape? Spot-clean? Who knows?

And aren't the rules more or less guidelines anyway?

I changed my review, randomly removing a few of my statements. There was no logic to what I removed and what I allowed to remain in the second version.

The new, shorter review was published.

So all is well, I suppose ... as well is it can be in a world so insanely politically correct, simple words are no longer acceptable because they may offend someone.

And yet, I would be embarrassed to even discuss here some of the products that are available for purchase on Amazon. Suffice to say, you can get just about anything. Anything.

If you read the reviews of a product called Aztec Secret Indian Healing Clay, for example, used for a face mask? You'll find an eight-hundred-word review that is embarrassingly descriptive when it's not being out-and-out boring. With gross pictures too.

It passed through the censors, and was approved. So go figure.

But be careful of your wording when you review a black tablecloth! Beyond here, there be monsters.

Pirates be warned

In a similar vein, recently I was conversing briefly on Instagram with a friend from up north who was visiting Charleston for a few days.

She mentioned having pimento cheese at a Chucktown restaurant, and pronounced it delicious.

I said: How would you like my recipe for Pirate Pimento Cheese that you can make at home?

She said she would love to have that. So I quickly listed the ingredients and clicked to publish my comment.

The post was rejected by Instagram. Once again, I had violated the rules of the community.

? ? ? ? ?

Truly flummoxed, I checked to see if it was the word "pirate" that was being objected to. But no; there are several versions of #pirate hashtags within millions of posts.

Was it the word mayonnaise? Pimentos? Jalapeño? The racially charged lemon pepper?

I don't remember what I changed, but I re-wrote the recipe -- identical ingredients as it is, after all, a recipe -- and was able to post it.

Once again: You don't even want to know what you can find on Instagram if you go looking. Suffice it to say, there are things that decent people don't look at.

But a recipe for pimento cheese? Step off! Out of bounds. Check yourself before you wreck yourself. Be mindful of the tender eyes and ears of the community.

Hogwash. Actual free speech is being stifled in favor of all that is destructive and godless. People need pimento cheese. It is an eternal truth.

Goodness gracious, great balls of grapefruit

Switching to people's obsession with the weather -- and I am included -- it amazes me how the weather gets blamed for lots of stuff that folks cannot otherwise explain.

Beyond their ken, as it were.

I have been more or less addicted to grapefruit -- indeed, all citrus -- since the big pink ones arrived in stores in December.

TG, who does the lion's share of the grocery shopping at our house, has brought home dozens and dozens of grapefruit for me.

If I don't have one for breakfast -- peeled like an orange, divested of some of its white pithy layer, then cut into sections in the bowl so as not to lose a single drop of juice, then dressed with two Splenda packets and a sprinkling of cinnamon -- my whole quotidian experience gets off on the wrong foot.

But in recent days, the grapefruit have become scarce. One supermarket had huge, gorgeous, juicy Texas Ruby Reds for a dollar apiece. I was practically drooling over the mere thought of them. 

On some days, I ate not one but two grapefruit. Like a total hedonist.

Then, with no warning, there were none.

We were at a different supermarket last Wednesday night, after church. They have a senior discount of five percent off your entire order, on Wednesdays. So TG and I often shuffle in there, aged as we are, on our way home.

There were no grapefruit. None at all. There were navel oranges so splendid, they almost made me cry. Hundreds of them stacked like bright gleaming orbs in the overflowing bins.

But no grapefruit.

As I bagged said marvelous orange masterpieces, TG asked a nearby stock boy whether he was sequestering any grapefruit in the back, explaining that I was a citrus addict.

The stock boy came to me. In hushed tones, extremely earnestly, he told me that grapefruit was no longer available but would probably come back into season in the spring and summer.

? ? ? ? ?

I just looked at him. Then I spoke. But see -- I said -- citrus is a winter fruit. We are in the dead of winter. In summer, you get melons and berries. 

He said -- hand to God above, this is what he said -- I work in the deli! With that palms-up, leaning-back gesture that says in body language, Don't ask me! I draw a paycheck here but I have nothing to do with any of this!

I bade him farewell, trying not to smirk as I wheeled my cart away from the bins empty of grapefruit but groaning with oranges.

I went to snag a bag of broccoli florets for my salads -- another obsession.

A different stock boy, having been consulted by the first stock boy, decided to school me on the subject of lack of grapefruit. Again with the hushed tones, the earnest expression, he informed me: You know, the weather has been terrible down in Florida is why there aren't any grapefruit.

? ? ? ? ?

Actually -- I decided to do a bit of schooling of my own, since it was he who'd rattled my cage and not the other way around, and because it was clear that I was not exchanging intelligence with a fruit grower of any stripe -- the grapefruit you had in abundance up until a few days ago were grown in Texas. Wonderful Sweet Scarletts, to be exact. In season throughout the winter and even into the early spring.

Those hundreds of gorgeous oranges over there, though? They're from Florida. Where it is also winter.

He blinked.

Furthermore, I said, the majority of Florida citrus is grown in the southern two-thirds of the state, where the incidence of frost is low. The recent "terrible weather" to which you refer -- (there was a deep-south snow event in early January) -- occurred in the panhandle.

He blinked again. Speechless! Imagine that. I waved my bag of broccoli florets -- which one can find readily available year-round -- as I wheeled my cart away.

He nailed it. Oh wait.

Last week I spied a warning light on the Raven's dashboard: to wit, my right rear tire was low on air.

We outfitted the Raven with four spiffy spanking-new Michelins in November.

I was annoyed at the inconvenience, but the place that services our car is right around the corner, so I wheeled in and asked them to put a bit of air into the tire.

The young man who works behind the desk walked out into the sunshine with me (it was a beautiful day that had started out cold but warmed right up) and chatted while life was breathed back into my tire.

I mused aloud that I wondered why my tire had gone low. Had I perhaps picked up a nail? Should I be worried?

No, he assured me. It's the weather. When it's cold, tires can lose pressure.

But it's so nice out today, I said.

But it was really cold this morning, he reminded me. Like, twenty-two degrees.

But why did that affect only one of my tires, and not all of them? I asked.

The kind young man just shook his head and looked concerned, and then the car was ready and I said Thank you so much! and went on my way.

For the next few days, the Raven perched in the garage.

On Saturday, Erica and I hopped aboard to go wedding-stuff shopping.

Once again, a dashboard light. This time, my tire was all but flat. Erica hopped back out and followed me in her car, back to the tire-fixing place.

I had a nail.

? ? ? ? ?

The nice folks there repaired my tire at no charge, while Erica and I took off on her plump nail-free wheels and made some headway on the reception-table-decorating front.

People! Don't blame the weather for everything. It is after all, only weather. There's nothing anybody can do about it. It is winter, when snow flies and grapefruit appear glistening in your bowl.

But sometimes there are nails. Sometimes there are grocery store buyers who don't know where to find grapefruit in season. Occasionally there is the offensive nature of black shadow-striped tablecloths and pimentos mixed with cheese.

And more often than I'd like to admit, more and more these days it's the utter senseless corruption of political correctness that's stopping us in our tracks.

As for me? I'm going to forge ahead, undaunted. I hope you do too.

And that is all for now.

=0=0=0=

Happy Monday

Comments

[Judy]

They most certainly rejected your review because of the "black-on-black" words. Do you take meds for high cholesterol because, if you do, you cannot, under any circumstances eat grapefruit. It kills the Statins in the med./ We have some Ruby Reds at the Walmart--guess they get theirs from Texas?
BTW--the only time I blame the weather, is when there is too much snow falling or too much at the end of my drive to get out, if I have an appointment. Although, I have been known to blame the drabs of February for my dark mood. I love your pimento cheese dip--best I have ever had!!!

[Jennifer]

@Judy ... nope, no statins going in. Only grapefruit. My cholesterol is great. And I've certainly never known you to be daunted by the weather or anything else! xoxo

[Mari]

Oh Jenny! It's rare for me to read your posts and not laugh out loud! Yes, I'm laughing. Those stock boys didn't know what they were doing when they tried to educate you on citrus. A pirate knows far more than a stock boy when it comes to these matters.
And, I would have liked to have seen your face when you realized your tire was nearly flat, and then when they said it was a nail. These moments are priceless and again I'm laughing.
Apparently the word is out on the street to beware the pirate's reviews. I don't understand it. You are the last person I would have thought to be offensive! :)

[Jennifer]

@Mari ... girl I work so hard at being palatable to everyone! Haaahahaa and yes, my expression when my tire situation dawned on me pirate brain was likely not so pleasant. I HATE car stuff. I just want to GO! And the stock boys had better beware lest I choose to illuminate them further, on even weightier matters than citrus. xoxo

[Sally]

Oh dear me, Jenny. Like Mari, you had me laughing although I bet you weren't; especially about the short sighted produce kids. They probably didn't even know what they were talking' about, anyway. :)
I had to get new tires also, and that al one ruined one of my day last week. Not to mention, the checking account.

xoxo

[Jennifer]

@Sally ... well at least I am good for a laugh to someone, if not poor underinformed stock boys. Oh well; you cannot win them all. And I think it's a pretty sure thing that they didn't know what they were talking about. And yet they kept talking! Haaahaha sorry about your tires. xoxo

[Nancy]

I'm new to your blog. I really enjoyed reading it. I especially liked the grapefruit stories. My husband and I have buying bags of grapefruit (12-15 in a bag) from a man who brings his fruit truck to our town every two weeks. He made his last trip to us on Saturday, and we bought our last bag of grapefruit for the season, --till November. We have so much enjoyed starting our breakfast with half a grapefruit. This morning's fare was sweet and juicy. We hate to see the end of this supply of grapefruit.
Nancy

[Jennifer]

@Nancy ... welcome, friend, and thanks for taking the time to read. I am glad to know of your blog too and I know I'll enjoy reading it. Please stop by again! xoxo

[Barb]

Jenny, You have definitely been blackballed both in reviewer circles and in grocery stores and possibly in auto repair shops. Lately, if people don't know or want the truth, they just ignore it...or make something up. I'm tired of the atmosphere the press has created. It's impossible to speak or even act without committing some terrible blunder. However, I CAN understand how pimento cheese could be subversive.

[Barb]

PS Is your Instagram account public? If so, send me the link.

[Jennifer]

@Barb ... hahaa yes I am a victim of fake news for sure. YES my insta is public -- link in my header above (go ig or go home) .... xoxo