Saturday, March 12, 2011

Unexpected Pleasures - A Writing Exercise

Mary Beth Buchner Essay # 3

Advanced Writing March 22, 2011

Unexpected Pleasures

Curiosity led me into The Fresh Market, home of elite, unblemished fruits and vegetables, prime meats of every description and aromatic, freshly baked breads, cakes and pastries. Being a frugal homemaker and a practical, basic-ingredients type of cook, this was not my usual food shopping venue. I viewed this experience as an adventure, a journey down a rabbit’s hole.

As I meandered dreamily through a section of neatly displayed fruits and vegetables, I purposely looked for the unfamiliar, something that would peak my curiosity. I picked up an item that looked foreign, more like a piece of garbage, but noticed that there were a bunch of these strange, dirty looking objects and that they cost $4.99 each. Approaching an eager-looking young man in an apron bearing the store’s name, I asked, what is this strange looking thing? Having been given a reprieve from his mundane task of unloading fruit crates and piling apples, his eyes lit up and he responded enthusiastically. A Professor of Vegetable Land, he appeared delighted to have the opportunity to share his vast expanse of vegetable knowledge with me. It’s called a celery root; yes, it certainly looks ugly; no, it’s not the bottom part of the celery stalks, but it is loaded with vitamins and adds exciting flavor to certain kinds of recipes. The idea of having something that was “loaded with vitamins”, cinched my decision. The celery root and I were a couple.

As I walked past some other familiar and not so familiar crops, my mind began to wander. Strangely the unusual, ugly vegetable I held in my hand led my mind and my thoughts to another time, another place. Could it really have happened in this same lifetime?

I see him again as I did that first time in the summer of 1967. He is working outside in the hot humid sun, a sun that is burning down on us like some sort of angry, fire-eating dragon. He is behind a chain-linked fence, which contains a sign that announces boldly, No Not Enter - Danger - Hard Hat Area. I should have paid attention to these words; I should have known to stay away! The buttons on his drab green, coarse work shirt are opened almost clear to his waist, exposing his hairy chest which by this time of the day is wet with a mixture of dirt and sweat. He sees me and walks over to the fence and we’re close enough now that I can pick up his musty, earthy smell-- a smell that is actually more intriguing than offensive. As we stand face-to-face at the chain links, I notice more about him. His abdomen is hard and bumpy -- the tightly packed muscle groups explicitly defined by a season of strenuous physical activity. His shoulders and upper arms are lumpy too, and one could easily observe that every fiber, every tissue is powerful and strong. His veins become more pronounced as he strains against the weight of the concrete blocks he starts to move out of his path in order to reach my side. His eyes sparkle intensely as he opens the gate and enters my side of the world. All this time I’m thinking, I don’t know this guy, he is totally foreign to me, not my type at all, he’s even a bit grotesque. Nonetheless, I’m somehow curious and intensely attracted. Although he is filthy and soiled from his long hours of heavy labor in the steaming, sweltering heat I find him a bit obscene yet strangely exciting and I’m drawn to him like a curious spectator at the scene of a car wreck. It might not be what you expect to see or what you think you want to see, yet somehow you can’t seem to turn away.

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