First tasted in 1949 out of Judy’s lunch bag,
a luxury never before experienced. A new
idea in flavor and crunchy biting, imaginative,
setting up possibilities not dreamed before.
I have stepped beyond the narrower boyhood life
of my parent’s early twentieth century stimulus.
Food is that cultural determinate rooted in place
and time and experience. A springboard.
Who still does celery and peanut butter? Have
I stepped back in time or simply renewed a
good thing? Did Shakespeare eat celery?
Surely not peanut butter. But, who really knows?
Jimmy Carter, who grows peanuts, and who
has my admiration, right up there with the Bard
allows the combination to make this mornings’
victuals memorable. Joy is sometimes easy.