May 18, 2013
Written by Joe Pisani
Tuesday, 11 October 2011 23:00
When I walked into the newsstand at Grand Central and asked the clerk for a copy of the “Farmer’s Almanac,” she looked at me like I wanted to rob the cash register.
“The Farmer’s Almanac,” I said. “The Farmer’s Almanac?” she repeated and then got the boss, who I figured would call for the security guard.
But the boss told me to wait and while I waited, I looked at less subversive publications on the racks — tattoo magazines with bare women whose bodies were decorated like Russian Easter eggs, celebrity magazines about the same three celebrities, marrying, cheating and divorcing, gun magazines, and the all-American favorite — skin magazines, which are suffering circulation declines because porno is free on the Internet.
After a few minutes, the woman returned from the crypt and handed me a copy of the 220th anniversary edition of the “Old Farmer’s Almanac,” which contains a lot of articles about beekeeping, panning for gold and growing organic vegetables. It’s a great resource to help you get started in a new life, especially if you’re planting by the light of a new moon. Just don’t try to buy a copy in the city.
My favorite form of magazine escapism isn’t “Maxim” or “Sports Illustrated.” Depending on the day of the week, it could be “Grit” or “Mother Earth News” or “Hobby Farms.”
Sometimes I fantasize about leaving behind the commuting life and living the honest, hardworking life we were meant to live, riding a tractor across the fields, pruning fruit trees, and planting lettuce, corn and peppers.
And whenever I wander through a bookstore, I gravitate toward memoirs about city people who became farmers the way E.B. White did when he left the security of his Manhattan apartment and his job at The New Yorker for a new career in Maine, raising chickens and writing Charlotte’s Web.
Many Baby Boomers have the same fantasies as they take the elevator to the 32rd floor and wonder how much longer the agony will last before they can break away and find fulfillment tilling the soil, raising goats and growing their own produce, because nothing tastes as good as something you’ve grown yourself.
I still remember my father’s garden, which kept us and the neighbors well supplied with tomatoes, peppers and beans through the long, cold winters.
According to a survey by the U.S. Farmers and Ranchers Alliance, 42 percent of Americans think the country is headed in the wrong direction when it comes to food production. As a result, there is a growing “Know Your Farmer” movement that encourages consumers to buy local produce.
This year, in the battle against Big Agriculture, I planted a dozen tomato plants alongside my 70 blueberry bushes, and discovered that my meager crop tasted better than the flavorless vegetables in the supermarket that were trucked across the country just so I could eat a tomato and mozzarella salad in February.
Every small effort to get back to basics makes a difference, and it’s more rewarding than watching TV or going to the mall.
Joe Pisani can be reached at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it .
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