This grapefruit, purchased at the local K. Roger, is not as humongous as many of the grapefruits available, nor is it as intensely pink in color as most of the individually sold grapefruits.
It was tasty. Easy to section. Juicy, but not overly so. With just the right amount of sweetness.
# # #
But here’s the weird thing about this grapefruit. Just like Proust’s madeleines, this grapefruit stimulated long-lost memories from my childhood.
It reminded me of being an elementary school-age girl. Sitting at home in my parents’ warm kitchen while eating breakfast at the old, slightly wobbly, wooden drop-leaf table. Listening to the local AM radio “Quickie Quiz” show. Wondering what I’d be doing at recess later in the morning.
So considering the effect that this grapefruit had on me, I’m left wondering what marketing genius came up with the idea to name this product:
# # #
Putting aside the stupid inconsistent capitalization of the letters of the product’s name, if there was ever a fruit whose essence reminded me positively of my past, it would be these grapefruits.
And considering that grapefruits are pretty much the same old fruit now that they were 40 years ago, I’m irritated with the somewhat passive aggressive marketing message that I’ll be an old fuddy duddy if I don’t buy these particular grapefruits.
I understand that times change, but I gotta wonder how it could be that bad-mouthing grapefruit is the key to more sales. Does that even make sense?