m
4
Opinion
March
2004
AiTastelfor
the
Exotic
North!
If
you
were
part
of
a
chicken,
what
part
would
you
be?
an
Matt
Damon
from
Ohio:
I
guess
I'd
be,
like,
a
breast,
because
they
go
good
with
bar-beque
sauce.
Or
Teriyaki
sauce.
Or
even
like,
ummm,
that
honey
garlic
stuff
you
get
at
Overwaitea
on
Sundays.
Hilary
Rodham
Clinton
from
Alberta:
I'd
be
the
prime
rib,
because
it's
soooooo
soft
and
juicy...
oh
yeah...
and
thick...
Justin
Timberlake
from
Prince
Rupert:
I'd
totally
be
a
drum
stick,
I
LOVE
the
drums!!
Have
you
ever
heartd
that
drum
solo
on
that
song,
you
know,
I.
forget
the
name,
but
it
goes
like
"Da
dada
daaaa
da
dadaaa"
Shirley
Bond
from
the
second
moon
of
Jupiter:
I
don't
eat
meat.
Violet
Black
Staff
Writer
Salads
are
fun
to
make
because
they
look
so
darn
nice
-
dark
lettuce,
fresh
mushrooms,
yellow
pepper,
and
the
piece
de
resistance,
tomatoes.
Imagine
my
dismay
when
I
popped
a
piece
of
tomato
in
my
mouth
and
was
greeted
not
with
the
rich
zing
of
tomato-ey
goodness
but
instead
with
a
dose
of
tasteless,
grainy
mush.
What
the
hell?
I
had
a
heightened
awareness
during
my
next
grocery
trip.
Aha!
The
bland
culprits
were
hothouse
tomatoes,
from.
..Mexico?
But
they
were
so
red,
and
shiny
and
gosh
darn
appealing.
The
little
girl
standing
next
to
me
in
the
aisle,
waiting
for
her
mom
to
bag
a
cucumber,
looked
a
bit
frightened
when
I
asked
her
"do
;
t:
G
lobVof
f
rozen
,
isky-tearihgasta
Kevin
Lalonde
Graphics
Assistant
It's
snowing
again.
I
woke
up
this
morning
(this
afternoon,
actually),
showered,
dressed,
and
looked
out
my
window
to
take
in
the
glorious
scenery
that
I
was
certain
would
be
there
after
enjoying
such
a
wonderful
warm
spell.
And
it
was
snowing.
Not
the
little,
light
sprinkling
of
winter
twilight
joy
that
we've
become
accustomed
to
over
the
last
couple
of
weeks.
Not
even
the
stuff
that
when
you
see
from
a
window
after
work
as
you
go
to
leave,
you
say
"awww
crap!"
because
you
know
you'll
have
to
scrape
off
your
car.
No
ma'am,
I
swear,
from
North
Nechako
road
where
I
live,
the
stuff
was
coming
down
like
half
of
Florida's
winter
retiree's
golf
balls.
Well,
maybe
I
exaggerate,
but
it
was
still
a
lot
of
really,
really
big
flakes.
Globs
of
frozen,
sky-tearing
waste,
an
inch
across,
everywhere,
as
The
writings
and
opinions
featured
throughout
Free
Forum
do
not
of
Free
Forum
staff.
Letters
to
the
cncsncnc.bc.ca.
you
know
where
tomatoes
come
from?"
She
furrowed
her
brow,
took
a
minute,
and
shyly
replied
"the
store?"
I
felt
so
guilty,
not
just
for
bothering
a
little
girl,
but
for
falling
into
the
trap
of
treating
my
fresh
food
like
another
commodity.
The
stuff
needs
time
to
grow!
Like
a
consumption
queen
I
was
demanding
"I
want
my
blueberries
NOW!
Ship
them,
at
any
cost!"
But
what
exactly
is
the
cost?
My
brain
strained,
made
a
weird
clicking
sound,
and
I
finally
got
it.
If
I
want
to
buy
strawberries
out
of
season
I
am
going
to
have
to
accept
that
they
were
grown
with
pesticides,
picked
before
ripening,
genetically
engineered
for
cold
storage,
slathered
with
waxy
preserves,
and
shipped
from
Florida
to
my
grocery
store.
Even
then
they
are
not
going
to
taste
as
good
as
a
basket
far
as
I
could
see.
Granted,
since
I
live
in
the
basement,
from
my
little
window
I
could
see
fairly
little.
But
there
was
a
lot
of
snow.
So
here's
my
question.
Why
do
we
put
up
with
this
stuff?
Really?
Why
do
we
bother
living
in
a
place
where
on
any
given
Saturday,
we
can
be
made
to
witness
such
horrors?
Why
do
we
drive
in
this
crap?
Why
don't
we
all
just
pack
up
and
head
south,
where
we
all
belong?
Apparently,
the
Western
Regional
Canadian
University
Press
is
having
a
conference
in
March
in
Victoria
this
year.
As
we
here
at
Free
Forum
discuss
our
attendance
at
the
conference,
the
one
thing
that
continually
raises
itself
as
an
issue
is
this:
"Aren't
all
the
flowers
already
out
down
there?"
Forget
the
progressive
assembly
of
the
press;
I'm
going
to
the
beach.
Our
production
editor
here
at
FF
spent
her
reading
week
in
Vancouver.
In
the
middle
of
editor
must
be
350
words
or
less
FrSEE
FOfNUri
from
the
local
u-pick.
Sometimes
we
have
to
make
hard
choices.
I
have
now
chosen
to
"go
local"
and
buy
my
veggies
as
they
are
in
season,
from
local
farmers.
It's
hard,
but
it's
working.
My
salads
have
new
ingredients
such
as
carrot
and
dried
almonds,
and
I'm
looking
forward
to
treating
myself
to
strawberries
in
the
summer.
It
has
even
been
costing
less
-
I
noticed
that
local
veggies
don't
have
to
cushion
the
added
costs
of
processing,
packaging,
and
transportation
from
afar.
It's
also
nice
to
know
that
my
money
is
staying
in
the
region
instead
of
being
whisked
away
to
the
pockets
of
multi-national
agri-business.
I
had
certainly
lost
track
of
the
reality
of
food.
Tomatoes
don't
come
from
a
store!
Where
do
kids
get
this
stuff?
February.
She
gets
back
and
kindly
tells
us
that
on
the
Sunday
before
she
returned
home,
the
temperature
reached
17
degrees
Celsius.
Although
the
week
here
in
Prince
George
was
pretty
mild.
..17
friggin
degrees?
Are
you
serious?
Who
the
hell
is
working
the
global
thermostat
around
here
anyway?
I
could
have
been
sunbathingWell,
chances
are
I'd
be
spending
my
time
indoors
anyway,
watching
TV,
drinking
very,
very
cold
beer,
and
telling
all
the
kids
to
go
and
get
some
exercise.
But
I
could,
theoretically,
be
outside.
Comfortably.
So
again
I
ask,
what
the
hell
are
we
doing
here
in
this
semi-frozen,
mostly-melted,
slushy
wasteland?
Why
don't
we
all
just
pack
up
and
go
south?
I
think
the
idea
is
that
I'm
supposed
to
provide
some
kind
of
enlightening
solution,
motivation,
and
a
reason
to
stay
here.
Excuse
me,
I
need
to
find
my
beach
towel.
necessarily
reflect
the
opinions
and
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