Where is our Johnny Rosebudseed?
Nobody’s Opinion: There are few things in life prettier than a yellow rose. I was thinking about this tonight, while I was outside today…picking the dead leaves out of my Japanese garden—clearing away debris, and marveling at the tiny green shoots who had pushed themselves up from the wet ground, somehow..bursting through, tiny little buds of something on the end, heads bowed as if waiting for the sun to kiss them hello. Yes, it’s a miracle how fast everything grows in spring, and it’s no wonder that we measure our lives by the seasons. I was tip-toeing around so as not to squash them.
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But, I missed getting my yellow rose at the funeral.
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Everyone was standing outside the chapel after the last words were said, families leaving, the body waiting for the dirt and final flowers, and the sister of the departed gave all the ladies a bright yellow rose. I was clear across the parking lot explaining to someone I had just met WHY I could not drive over 50 miles just to go to some strangers house for a WAKE (after two days of this stuff, I was ready to get back to my life) when I spotted them being given away. By the time I got there, they were gone. But, I grabbed a few being held by the sister and smelled…
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Nothing.
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Have you noticed? Roses have no smell anymore. Most of they have been cross-designed and breed, and whatever, and the beautiful ‘fill your lungs with this miracle of life’, is no longer there. Oh sure, they are bigger, and brighter— but those geneticists have lost the smell in the process and what a pity. Because what’s a rose without it’s beautiful smell? It’s like a beautiful woman without a kind soul.
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Even at the famous Botanical Gardens here in St. Louis, where the rose garden has thousands of blooms every single year, you can stand in the middle of the rose garden, and go, “Where’s the perfume?” You can put your poor neglected nose up to every single blossem…and…
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Nothing.
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You know, I hate to admit it, but this upsets me, which brings me to another point.
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At this funeral, there wasn’t ONE single woman there who was not horribly sick somehow. All of them were at least 100 pounds overweight, and suffered from cancers, strokes, lung diseases, you name it. Two of them were in wheel chairs. One of the reasons we did not go to the gravesite was because two of the sisters could not even walk. And I found out that almost every single woman there (and all the women in my own family) had had her gall balder removed. I talked to at least seven.
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What is going on?
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These were not lazy women. None of them. Anyone can glance around our society and see just how everyone is feeling. And most experts agree…it’s our food. It’s been processed, chemically altered–the soil has been depleted and our thyroids themselves have been decimated. In order to “feed the masses” and make sure the food stays on a shelf-life of forever so as to make a profit, there is stuff in our food that shouldn’t even be there.
Sure, we get less exercise than before, but it goes beyond that. Something in our water, our food, and who knows what else, is poisoning our chances for a decent life, free of pain.
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Not that disease has not always been with us…it’s just that food, doesn’t taste like it use to, does it?
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If you look around at the poor, they are fatter than everybody else. At my local neighborhood grocery stores, a simple pepper can cost over a dollar. You walk in the door, and get hit with pastry, donuts, and bread. The fruit is almost always spoiled, and you have to check every bag of apples.
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Eating healthy is almost impossible, for people on a fixed income, and it shouldn’t be. I look at the spinach now, and wonder…safe? In the last ten years I have mistakenly eaten many a contaminated something, and I bet I’m not the only one.
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And like everything else…instead of solving the problem, they blame us. The simple man. You’re fat because you do not exercise. You’re sick because you don’t take care of yourself. Trust us. Fluoride in the water? Trust us…it’s your fault. There is no fallout in the air.
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Trust us.
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As I get older, and I taste the genetically altered apple, or simple orange, I remember how they use to taste when I was a kid. Like the roses, even the food has lost its luster.
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But, all is not lost. They have NOT taken the smell out of the gardenia. Every year, I buy a gardenia tree, and every morning in summer, I go out and take the biggest whiff, and if you have not ever smelled a gardenia, you might as well know that this nobody thinks you’re glass is half full.
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Somebody should put the smell back in the roses before it too late. We need a Johnny Roseseed guy to spread it all over the planet.
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Funerals…they have their moments I suppose. But they are also hotbeds for Hatfield and McCoy fights that have been just waiting to burst forth. Who gets what…and who was the favorite, and who didn’t send flowers, and who didn’t show up, etc..
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So, I have come to a conclusion. When I die, this nobody would like to skip the funeral and send everyone I liked or loved in my life a gardenia tree…with a card that says..
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“Smell this flower once a day, and remember..I still love you.”
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And that’s my final, “funeral moment” for quite some time, I hope.
***
(And yes, I thought you’d enjoy that potato, you’re welcome!)
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About
I am a nobody. If the different classes of America were color-coded, I would be in the yucky brown, one rung up from the bottom. I grew up in Naples, Florida and live near the Mississippi River now with my husband and two dogs. I am part of the slowly disappearing middle-class. I was a musician most of my life: drummer/singer/keyboards—but I retired before the plastic surgery flu hit. I have no degrees, which could be a good thing…depending on how you view our educational system. I do have three patents…but that really doesn’t make me a somebody. The one thing that is constant in my life is my OPINIONS, which i have more than perhaps even Carl Sagan could have imagined…mostly political. (yes…my ancestors were crabby buggers)
Hopefully other nobody’s will put their opinions on my site. But, if you happen to be a somebody, you’re more than welcomed to help out.
It’s my Nobody Opinion that Nobody’s Perfect, and Nobody Cares, that Nobody Knows why Nobody Wins, and when that happens, Nobody Wonders, why Nobody Flashes, why Nobody’s Fooled, but then Nobody remembers that Nobody ALWAYS Reports the truth.
You can email me at joyanna_adams@yahoo.com
Joyanna Adams
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Anonymous on MTGA (Make TRUMP Go Away) ronita on MTGA (Make TRUMP Go Away) ronita on MTGA (Make TRUMP Go Away) Mrs. O on MTGA (Make TRUMP Go Away) Joyanna Adams on DAD: It Only Takes a Moment or…
Joyanna Adams 
At this funeral, there was ONE single woman there who was not horribly sick somehow… YOU!!!
“Smell this flower once a day, and remember..I still love YOU!!!”
“YOU”, my dear, are my gardina of life…
We will pull each other through it all.
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[…] Where is our Johnny Rosebudseed? As I get older, and I taste the genetically altered apple, or simple orange, I remember how they use to taste when I was a kid. Like the roses, even the food has lost its luster. *** But, all is not lost. They have NOT taken the smell out of the gardenia. Every year, I buy a gardenia tree, and every morning in summer, I go out and take the biggest whiff, and if you have not ever smelled a gardenia, you might as well know that this nobody thinks you’re glass is half full. *** Somebody should put the smell back in the roses before it too late. We need a Johnny Roseseed guy to spread it all over the planet. *** Funerals…they have their moments I suppose. But they are also hotbeds for Hatfield and McCoy fights that have been just waiting to burst forth. Who gets what…and who was the favorite, and who didn’t send flowers, and who didn’t show up, etc.. *** So, I have come to a conclusion. When I die, this nobody would like to skip the funeral and send everyone I liked or loved in my life a gardenia tree…with a card that says.. *** “Smell this flower once a day, and remember..I still love you.” […]
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Go to heirloom roses site and you can order very fragrant roses and also see if they are hardy to grow where you live. I like you don’t like that roses have no smell any more but try that site and you see they have some beautiful roses that smell awesome.
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You see vegatables?
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PS. If you don’t like a tiny, voluptuous woman, legs akimbo on your plate, push her to the side and just eat the vegetables.
🙂
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I am not a gardener, m’self. I am not to be trusted near a rose bush with anything sharp. I can do great damage with a hoe or a fork. Occasionally even to myself.
But I do like a good garden. Flowerbeds exploding colour wherever one looks. Colours that are natural bordering on amazing. Long swathes of grass, freshly cut and smelling of freshly cut grass – as they do. Ponds with small bushes and fancy japanese trees and little streams entering with bubbly sounds. Tall, shady trees with fruit one can reach and possums to take the higher ones.
Fresh fruit to eat instead of the supermarket fruit which by the marvels of technology can be as much as two years since picking.
There is a price to pay in feeding the five billion which Christ didn’t even attempt. I wonder if his bread smellled like the bakery in my supermarket. Was his fish from seas other than the dead one.
It is swings and roundabouts, I am afraid.
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