There is something sinister afoot in our school systems when my kids come home and chide me because the food I eat is not "organic." My first thought is to ask them how much of their school lunches
are "organic" but I suspect it would only end up badly (as trying to use logic as a tool with young teens generally does.)
"Oh, really?" I say, continuing to munch on my cream-filled oatmeal cookie
that is so dense with processed ingredients, it bends before I can finish it. "And exactly what is not organic about my cookie?"
To which they have no real answer. It is clear that while they
are learning something about the value of organic food from their always-politically-correct private school, they can't translate those glittering generalities into action. And I suspect that is true
of much of the nation. We all have this vague notion that organic is 1) better for the planet; 2) better for you and 3) more expensive but can't really define what organic means. That I blame on the
overreaching efforts of the marketing community to try and capitalize on this still-emerging fascination with eco-friendly everything.
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It doesn't help when the Federal Trade Commission or
advocacy groups do a deep dive on many "organic" product claims and find them, shall we say, less than sincere? I figure if nobody can agree on "organic," it might be just another fad like grapefruit
diets and Pilates.
I eat what tastes good to me without regard to content, origin or impending danger. I laughed throughout the mad-cow scare and ate steaks three nights a week. I never check
to see if I bought a product being recalled (in fact, I own two Toyotas and haven't lost a moment of sleep) and have a hard time understanding why I should help some local farmer stay in business
unless his stuff tastes better than what the food conglomerate chemists can grow in a lab Petri dish.
Most of all, I haven't a clue what organic means. I figure if what I am eating came from
something that once lived on a farm or on a tree or in the ground, that it is organic. I kinda like the idea of pesticides keeping creepy crawlers out of my food chain. A quick wash under the sink
faucet has somehow prevented any crippling effects of weed killer poisoning for about 60 years now.
For my recent birthday, my wife took the family to a local "organic" restaurant where
everybody was clearly pretty pleased with themselves for eating there. Frankly, nobody looked any healthier than me (and you know how much I like those cream-filled oatmeal cookies.) The kids kinda
pushed their dinner around their plates and ate a couple baskets of rolls while I choked down a fantastically expensive bit of beef that I guess was allowed to range free or fed non-pesticidal grains,
I honestly don't know. The chef worked the tables as if we were all part of a secret commune, but I didn't have the heart to tell him that I'd had better steak at a New York Tad's fast food steak
joint.
The closest I came to making a commitment to eating organic was after watching the film "Food Inc." Afterward, you essentially swear off everything made by the big food conglomerates
and pledge to support your local green grocer. Until you find out he doesn't make any cream-filled oatmeal cookies.