PASSIONATE RATIONS

I hated apples as a kid.  Red Delicious ruled the groceries, but I found them tasteless, too sugary, and mealy, pretty though they were.

I’ve never believed looks should trump substance.

Perhaps that is why my memories of a particular, humble-looking apple are so vivid.  Or perhaps it has more to do with context.

My father and I had trouble from the start.  I was several months old when I first met him.  The Army is responsible for that.  And Vietnam.

I’ve heard the meeting wasn’t ideal; I screamed and cried when he picked me up.  I think he was hurt by that, and I think he scared me.  It was a precarious dynamic that would take decades to resolve, but don’t think my child self didn’t long for it to be otherwise.  Every once in a while it was.

My dad was (still is) an amateur astronomer.  He had a big orange-shelled Celestron telescope through which one could discern the rings of Saturn.  How many kids can say their dad showed them the rings of Saturn?

One weekend, seeking to view the sky’s gems someplace with fewer city lights and city haze than El Paso had to offer, my dad packed me and his telescope in a beat-up Chevrolet we fondly referred to as the “Blue Bomb.”  We drove to higher ground and much darker skies—Cloudcroft, New Mexico.  There, we joined others in a quest to view the beauty of the universe.

Somewhere in Cloudcroft, we stopped and got apples.  Not the highly-polished Red-Delicious variety, but smaller, rounder, firmer versions of the fruit.  My first bite resulted in a wonder rivaling my up-close viewings of celestial bodies.  I remember it still:  crisp, juicy, with a tangy sweetness and full flavor unknown to grocery-store apples of the day.  I remember laughing with my dad as we ate.  The memories, too, are sweet.

I could not eat apples without disappointment for many years.  That one apple sustained me.

Only recently have I stumbled upon anything close to the flavor of that New Mexico day.  Finally, the apple marketers have realized the value of flavor, of substance.  Heirloom apples of all shapes and sizes can now be found at the grocery.  And one, in particular, recalls my childhood and a day on which I was certain that I was loved and that anything was possible—even reaching the stars.

The variety?  Pink Lady.

Perhaps I’ll bring a few to my dad….