Character #6

Character #6: Alfred Mowen
Nov 7th, 20--

Dear Susan,

It seems so odd to be actually writing this. Why you decided to go without internet is beyond me. I know you and Larry want to get back to your feet and things like the ‘net might be considered a luxury. But I don’t think it counts when you move so far away. Halfway across the country and THIS is the easiest way we have to contact you? I feel like I am in the dark ages. I considered buying some parchment and a quill, but I don’t suppose my penmanship would improve with archaic instruments. It’s enough that I hope my spelling and grammer holds out – no spell check on paper. Also, I find it hard to share humor. It seems silly to write LOL when it isn’t a computer screen. But it seems even sillier to write Ha Ha. Don’t know what I am going to do. You’re strangling me, hon.

Not sure where to start. I guess I have to think back to the last time we talked. (Speaking of which, don’t you believe in phones? There are cheap ways to get them and I hope that paper is not the way you go permanently in the future.) I know that it was since you moved. Was it when you were heading past Alice’s place? Or when you stayed with Pat? Not sure. But I know it was before I got the new truck. Well, van really. It’s better for getting my stuff to and from the warehouse. Ha. Warehouse. Why did we call it that? We still do and it is the stupidest description I have ever heard for something. I don’t even know if you really would call it a greenhouse even. It isn’t much of anything. But warehouse you coined it so warehouse it will remain.
Anyway, you know the troubles I’ve had taking stuff to and from. Not enough of this, too much of that, and even some getting blown off when I roar down the #1. Well now I have a van. Couldn’t afford a proper worker’s one. I was stuck with Ford. Do me a favor and don’t read this bit to Larry. I know how he feels about Ford. The decision just came down to money. Doesn’t it always? I had a few grand saved up and decided the time was ripe to pony up a bit. I looked around and this was the best deal out there. Even got it a little cheaper by accident. I wasn’t thinking of taxes when I was haggling. Got them to a number I could afford and then I handed it over. Thought I was going to flop when they mentioned taxes. They were real nice about the whole thing. Bumped the sticker price lower so that everything worked out. Overall I was pretty happy with how everything turned out. Probably head back to them and do it again next time I have to get wheels.
It’s black – not all that happy about that – and it was a year or so older than the pickup I had, but it is in better shape by far. I’ve never had a Ford before. You remember Dad was a Chevy man. Trucks, cars, anything with wheels. If it wasn’t a Chev then it wasn’t right. Don’t know what he’d say. I know Ma dislikes it. But then she dislikes anything that he thought was disreputable. I’ll keep slogging and hope that he stops rolling over in his grave when he hears of how much better it makes things. I’d offer to send you a picture, but mine are all digital. Let’s make a deal. You get ‘net on and I’ll send you some pics.

New family moved in where you were living. I don’t like them. Maybe it isn’t so much that I don’t like them but that I can’t be bothered to like them. If they’re anything like you they’ll be nice, friendly folk. They’ll work themselves up to being cheerful and helpful and open. Then they’ll get tired of living in the suburbs or life with hot running water or some other form of civilization and then they’ll take off and head into the Prairies. Then I’ll have to go to all the trouble to get to know another batch of people. It’s all so tiring.
It’s a couple and their four kids. I think they have three boys and a girl. Or two and two. Or one of each. I can’t remember. They seemed fairly cute in any case. He’s some kind of broker and she’s in insurance. Not sure who takes care of the kids. These days I don’t know if anyone does at all anymore. I know that everyone we know thinks we’re nuts. You did too until you got grassroots fever. What there is about actually having someone stay at home and raising kids that everyone thinks is so strange is beyond me. You always said it was because of the economy. That people can’t afford to live on a single income. I still disagree, by the way. I’m in the minority, I know. Until the government outlaws the right to be old fashioned I’ll stick with it.
I don’t see them much, but Myrna bumps into them all the time. Their kids are the usual bag. Sports, ponies, bicycles, and other such things. Sandy and Mimi love them. Not sure if Tim has seen them much, but if the boys are into sports they’re bound to run into each other. I’ve been heading back and forth into the Interior, so I have missed most of the first month festivities. I’m not worried. Things will quiet down in a few months and then I’ll have to settle down into being human. In the time being I’m just working as much as I can.
I don’t see how you two are going to make a farm pay. It was everything you could do to run the house here. I’m not saying that you’re lazy, but you just barely managed to make things work. You planted that huge garden in back. And how often did you water? Once a week? Twice if the plants were lucky? How are you going to manage to drag yourself up every day and take care of an entire farm? Don’t get me wrong. I’m hoping that I have it all wrong. I’m hoping that once you get out there and you’re not burdened by time, internet, phone calls, and all the trappings of a civilized society that you’ll turn into organic powerhouses of production. I just won’t hold my breath. Ha ha. (man but that looks stupid)

I’m still a little amazed at all of it. Sure, you’ve talked about this for years. Ever since Carl was born. And I know that everyone is all up about the environment and sustainability and all of that – oh, how I know it. But how are you going to make it pay? How are you going to actually take care of a farm while you have two kids to put through school. I know it is only public school, but you still have to get them there. What about toys, sports equipment, clothes, and everything that goes along with growing kids? You’re a smart gal, Susan, but I think you’d kill the kids if you home schooled them. Most people would. Kids get on your nerves. And where does the “school” stop and the home start?
I said it before and you didn’t want to listen. I will say it again and promise that this is the last time. Honest Injun. Forget this organic stuff. Just grow your crops. Spray to keep the bugs off. Add the chemicals that will make them grow. Just do it. It may not be the “natural” way, but it will give you a good crop. A decent and equalized crop. One piece of your product will look much like another. You won’t have to worry about getting ok food this time and crap the next. You’ll be able to produce a lot and satisfy demand. You’ll build clientele. You could even (gasp) make money. I mean it. So why not? Do you hate the idea of success that much?
Ok, I said my piece and I will shut up. But don’t make the mistake of thinking that I am just blowing off steam. I’m not. I know what I am talking about. Just after you guys left Cole sent out a memo to all us vendors. I didn’t mention it to you when you called because I was still steamed. Also, I didn’t want to waste your dime with my bitching. It may be costing me some paper to complain now, but all I waste is your time. And let’s face it. Crops don’t sprout overnight so you’re going to have a lot of time on your hands!

This whole trend started a while ago. I wasn’t paying attention. You probably know more about that than I do. You’re part of the granola tribe. But anyway, we all saw it coming. I didn’t think it would be a big deal. There have been adherents of organic food and environmentally friendly growing practices for years. Heck, they put the city on a recycling plan and I went on it too. I recycle every week. I try and do what I can to be green. But that can’t be the always way, you know? Sometimes money comes into it. I want to survive and support my family. How can I be expected to run Roman’s Raisins and More on trends? Organic is expensive. Green gets expensive. I do what I can where I can, but the bottom line is the bottom line.
I’ve seen friends lose more than just their spot on the floor at the Market. I’ve seen them lose their homes and families. And for what? Just so that you can save one more tree? So that you can sleep soundly at night in your cardboard box with crayon curtains? I have seen the cost of the organic movement. If you buy product that was harder to make, it will cost more. Because production costs more. Because packaging costs more. So your product has to be sold at a higher price. People don’t like to buy high prices, so you fail. But wait. Why not sell just as cheap? Because then you don’t get to make enough profit to cover expenses and you fail. In all ways you tend to fail. Oh sure, get yourself in an area where the clientele has money to burn and a social conscious and then you’ll be fine. Other than that you are taking a chance.
So onto the memo. There is was in black and white. A plan to turn the Market into some kind of shopping haven for the organically inclined. Rent rebates given to those who step into line. But I have clients to think of. I have a reputation to think of. If you come to me for your raisins or your fruit, you expect a certain level of product. A certain quality. You don’t want to get a bag of something home that you have to eat in a day because it will go bag. You want to be confident that you can give this stuff to your kids and they will eat it, not throw it in the trash or trade it at school for a chocolate bar. I have to do more than just think of the people, but also the money they give me. These are monies that pay my bottom line. Bills, transport, purchasing. This is my life. If I don’t sell, I can’t stay and I can’t buy and I am screwed.
Cole was doing more than just saying he wants us thinking of it. Cole was pushing for it. Big time. And he hasn’t let up since. He wants healthy, homegrown, organic crap from wall to wall. Oh yeah, he wants it homegrown. Says that there are a lot of studies out there that point to more and more people shopping locally. That they are more likely to go to a local supplier for all of their needs than to drive a fair ways for low prices. He wants and 80% minimum of local stuff. That’s within fifty clicks mind you. How the hell he expects us to do this is beyond me. It’s way to difficult. And yes, before you ask, I did think about it. I thought about it all the way home. And let me tell you that Gifford agrees with me wholeheartedly. It will be a cold day in hell when Fargles’ sells local product.
How could I do it? Say I found someone even as “close” as Abbotsford. What am I going to do? Pay more money than I can from the orchards in the interior – costs go up. There will be some trade in the gas I don’t have to buy, but per product the cost goes up. And the quality goes down. Right now I can buy a truckload and only write off a dozen or so. At least before the customers get them. And who cares if they were grown in a greenhouse or out in some small orchard? Your tongue won’t care. The tastebuds will still identify that product as what it is. Eat an apple and you know you have an apple. You want to pay no more than you do in a grocery store, right? Well, maybe not if you are a granola freak, but most people are not.
If you can walk from your home to the store to buy an apple for say 25cents a pound, why would you drive out to the Market to buy something for 45cents a pound? Or 50. 60? Go totally green and there is no telling how much the costs will rise. Sure you can be happy that you have made the world a better place. But I would rather hand my kid a wallet and some keys and walk away knowing that while it may be a bit dirty there is at least money for my kids to live on in the end of days. Those with high-paying jobs will buy it, sure. There may even be a little movement to people with a planet conscience. But how many of them are there?
No one cares what “organic” means. Hell, they can’t even agree on a definition. Even then when push comes to shove they are walking through aisles comparing prices. There is now way that a company can out bid these guys. They always win. Why? Because if I want an order I get it. I’ll pack my van on up. But these companies go and pack up dozens upon dozens of 54” trailers. How can I compete with that buying power? Answer is that I can’t. So why try? I pick the best I can with what I have and sell it at a reasonable markup. I can’t help that it isn’t local. I can’t help that it may come in a box that’s made of Styrofoam. What I can help is a price very similar to that of a major chain. (every so often they change it up)

I just realized that I have been ranting at people with a totally different worldview for the last page or so. Sorry. I’m not trying to be a poison pen, but Cole just ticks me off. How much more of a tourist spot can we become? This is a fairly green-leaning city, but we are not the wheatgrass capital of the West, you know? There is only so much that we can do. And he should be fine with what we have. We have diversity. We have some unique products – at least here anyway. And we have good people. Well, ok there is one or two that are real ripe SOBs but that doesn’t mean that we’re totally buried in jerks. Take Gifford. I know you hate him, but he seemed really human the other day. We talked for a few hours and then we went our separate ways, but he said that he agreed with everything I said. I’m thinking of getting a petition together against Cole’s new vision. I’m sure Gifford will help. There is no way that I am going to sit idly by and march into the new year with a leash around my neck and the balls of my business in a vice.
Speaking of balls, it is the hockey fundraiser this weekend. First year I can remember that you are not going to be here. Not sure what I will think with a new face at the apple cider bar. But the rest of everything is going to be there. Helen is doing the bob for apples thing. George will be doing up his deep-fried ding-dongs. Not sure who is going to win the sack race. They just polished the gym floor so it should be interesting to see if any of us actually make it to the finish line. We’ve been selling hockey balls door to door – well, not “we” but the kids. Done pretty good too. Did better this year than we did when we were trying to get new uniforms. I think it is going to be a real success. Tell Larry that we’re going to miss him a lot this year. Everyone keeps asking after him. So if you ever get tired of molding away out there in the boonies, he has a job to come back to.
Myrna is busy taking all sorts of pictures, so you make sure that you do the same, ok? Even if they are old-school photographs that you get copies of and mail to us. Do they even have photomats anymore? There used to be one or two in every mall. Remember the pictures that would flip on the conveyor belt near the window? Do you think they caught the dirty ones or do you think a few “shows” happened here and there. Actually, when I think of all the illegal sexual exploitation pictures out there, it makes you wonder how anyone got away with it. Sure they could have developed their own but it seems like a whole lot of inconvenience to me. And most of the guys who get caught don’t really strike me as all that bright. But I don’t really want to get into all that. Just take some pics so that Myrna can see you and she is taking some so that you can see her.

When you write back, please let me know how many people are actually sending you letters. I am very curious to see who in this age of technological marvels is willing to go low-tech to stay in touch. It would be an interesting experiment to have everyone cut out their internet use for a month and see who still is in contact with whom. I once didn’t go on Facebook for a whole weekend and felt completely cut off. I wasn’t up to date on anyone. If it hadn’t been for TV I would have been cut off from world events too. I think the first thing I did when I got my last phone was to make sure the Internet feeds were working. I don’t think I put in any numbers for a day or two, lol. (That looks weird too)
We miss you guys a lot. I have no idea when we’ll be able to take a trip out your way for a visit, but it won’t happen until you get some indoor plumbing. I know you’ll laugh and I know that you aren’t living like cavemen, but it is hard to get rid of the image of you and Larry huddled around a fire surrounded by piles of writhing, organic potatoes, and cleaning your teeth with twigs. No one is going to say it, but everyone is going to be thinking the same thing. So if you want to dispel the rumors please keep us posted (ha, get it? Post? Letters? I should go on stage) so that we can tell everyone you’re doing great. Otherwise expect people to be very surprised should they learn you are not actually living in a cave or a hole and hunting Prairie dogs with pointed sticks.
Myrna and the kids send their love. We really hope to hear from you soon and see you before the summer. If you don’t get back to us in time – I have no idea how long it takes to send a letter these days – then have a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.


Yours,
Alfred