I’m taking a produce stand.
I can no longer sit back and watch the de-seeding of America.
We must save the last great American pastime — watermelon seed spitting.
When aiming a seed at the bridge of your brother’s nose (just so you can be fascinated by how it makes his eyes cross when one lands there), you never heard your mother say, “Stop that before you put someone’s eye out.”
You don’t need to buckle up or wear a helmet (although you never know where one of those little suckers might land. Earmuffs may be advisable).
I don’t think anyone’s ever been maimed by a watermelon seed, unless you count the trauma of wondering if your dad was joking when he said a vine would grow in your stomach from that seed you swallowed.
And how many things can you use as a weapon on your brother that, if you happen to miss, will land and grow into one of nature’s most perfect foods?
Now mad scientists are trying to take that away from us.
If you’ve been in a grocery store lately, you’ll notice pile after pile of small, round, pale, pitiful melons.
Gone are the oblong, green-striped beauties of my childhood. Gone is the thrill of searching for the largest one and having your dad hoist it on his shoulder to take home.
Gone are the seeds.
I am planning a boycott. Call me if you want to join SOWS (Save our Watermelon Seeds) and help paint signs with slogans like “Spittin’ is an American right,” or “A seed for every American!”
Jack Dietz can be our spokesman. Don’t tell me you don’t recognize the name — he holds the world record for spitting a seed the farthest: 66 feet, 11 inches.
I’m taking a produce stand.
- Kelly Kazek
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Today's interactive column: What's your Bacon Number?
Google has created a search engine that automatically calculates any actor’s “Bacon Number,” meaning how many connections it takes to link him or her to Kevin Bacon, á la the parlor game Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon.
Biography of Kelly Kazek
Kelly Kazek was born in Warner Robins, Ga., in whichever year adds up to her being 35.
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