It is unnecessary to write anything more about Barberville Produce, except to say that you shouldn’t come here looking for produce. You will find an “honor” honey truck (not wagon) parked across the street. This honor truck strikes me as a delightfully quaint way to do business and an economical one at that. One might also observe that honor must run fairly high in Barberville or to operate the honey truck on the honor system would not be possible. We can conclude that there are not a lot of honey thieves trolling W. State Road 40. There might be elsewhere; I do know of a gang of honey thieves that operates out of Los Angeles and I suspect there are more sticky-fingered thieves out there somewhere.
Ever since moving to Florida, I have developed a taste for a wide range of honeys. My favorite is the dark eucalyptus with its minor menthol accent, although there is certainly nothing lacking in plain old orange blossom or the ultra-sweet Tupelo, a regional product made famous in Van Morrison’s song.
As for Barberville Produce’s other products, I am hard-pressed to choose a favorite between the elegant Greco-Nubian statutes or the dyslexic “lodster” sign. Neither one makes any sense to me whatsoever, and I wonder if the statues are meant to suggest Nubians at all or are simply painted black because it goes well with gold and is therefore “artistic” in a wayward sense.
What I really want to know is this: What is the purpose of the “lodster” sign? It’s not meant to advertise a business, it is meant as artwork. I am very disturbed by this, but I want it as a gift. If I could hang the sign above my desk I think my life would be greatly enhanced.
I think we should leave discussions of taste out of this discussion. I think we should all loosen up and buy more meaningless and ambiguous artwork as soon as the economy recovers. If you happen to feel depressed, lonely, unwanted, hideous, flabby, or dejectedly unwitty, remember this: It’s always lodster season somewhere.