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MINDING
THEIR BUSINESS
Reeves County Luke
Brown Seedless Watermelons
and Grocery Store Personalitiesor
The Quality Goes in Before the Face Goes OnBy
Brewster Hudspeth
TE photos |
It
may have started in the 1960s with Chiquita Banana. Noticing that most bananas
resemble one another, United Fruit started attaching tiny stickers to their product
– creating both brand recognition and personifying the yellow fruit with their
once-famous, Carmen Miranda-like spokeswoman.
Later, stickers were added
to plums, avocados and even onions, identifying
a particular variety or more recently, the country of origin.
According
to a recent report by the people who report on these kinds of things, the watermelon
market of 2010 is healthy – but sales are down.
This summer in watermelon-rich
Texas, with towns
vying for fame, there’s a new kid on the block – from a region long famous for
another type of melon. |
The
fame of Pecos cantaloupe
is said to have spread from railroad dining cars that were supplied at the town
of Pecos and served allong
the line. |
| From the rather arid
acreage of Pecos, Texas
comes Mr. Brown's 4032, a strain of seedless watermelon that satifies your palate
and doesn't clog the u-trap of your kitchen sink. Don't let its compact size fool
you. It is equal to its counterparts from Hempstead,
McAllen or Luling.
The only place this little melon wouldn’t be welcome would be a seed-spitting
contest. |
|
The unspoken bond between grower and consumer - something we'd like to see more
of. |
Placed into cardboard-walled
pallets and placed at grocery store entrances, the melons (usually still cool
from the produce room) are a double threat. If you aren’t tempted going in – they
have a second chance of tempting you as you leave.
Attached to these succulent
little bowling balls at the grocer near me, was a sticker with a photo of an earnest
young man named Luke Brown. At first I mistook the sticker to be a public service
ad – of the “Have you seen me?” sort, but when I saw an email address and “Comments
Welcome,” I realized that I was seeing something that’s increasingly rare nowadays:
pride and accountability.
From Aunt Jemima to Betty Crocker, companies
have, for years, tried to personalize their products. The two ladies just mentioned
were of course, fictitious. There had been several women hired to “play” Aunt
Jemima at county fairs and public gatherings but that practice died years ago.
Betty Crocker’s image continues to be made-over every generation – her current
incarnation being a composite of several dozen contemporary women. |
 |
Not
to be confused with Adolphe Menjou |
Likewise, the smiling
Chef on the box of Cream of Wheat never drew breath, nor did the jovial Quaker
on the familiar round box of oats. The reality of Uncle Ben and his “converting”
of rice is still being debated in theological circles, while scores of people
make a yearly pilgrimage to the grave of Chef Boyardee – a very real person who
appeared in his own television commercials and lived to be 97 years old.
(Chef’s
birth name was Hector Boiardi but he appeared in print ads with his surname [considered
insulting by some] spelled phonetically across his toque as Boy-Ar-Dee. Hyphens
were later dropped.)
Another product personality familiar to Texas shoppers is C.B. Stubblefield, founder
of the famed Austin, Texas restaurant
that bears his abbreviated name "Stubbs." Stubblefield, originally from
Navasota, Texas was a
combat veteran of the Korean War, and a Purple Heart recipient – certainly not
your everyday grocery personality. |
| Slogans
don't get more honest than this. |
The son of a Baptist
Minister who often cooked for his congregation, Stubblefield’s product slogan
is the sober proclamation: “My Life is in These Bottles.”
It’s been a
while since we’ve seen such a straight-forward attitude and we wish Luke Brown
the success of Orville Redenbacher, Duncan Hines or C.B. Stubblefield – and the
longevity of Chef Boyardee. |
A slogan everyone can agree with.
(One
of many semi-humorous sayings attached to the stickers.) |
A, wistful but strong-jawed look at modern marketing. |
As for certain
Texas grocers, they bond their business with their host communities the way armies
march (on their stomachs) and the way women used to navigate their way
to men’s hearts (through their stomachs).
If the personality trend of marketing continues, who knows who we might meet?
May I soon be introducing you to Aida Avocado? Pierre Dijon? Rudolph Tomitillo?
Will watermerlon
stickers become the 21st Century equivilent of baseball cards? Will Luke Brown
become the new Honus Wagner? You might consider making room on your refrigerator
door. BH
August
1, 2010 | | |
