The Grain that Built a Hemisphere

In The Omnivore's Dilemma, Michael Pollan describes the dominant supermarket culture in the United States as creating a nation of corn koalas (that'd be us). Apparently, eating only one type of food makes you a koala...or maybe a panda...they only eat one thing, don't they? Of course, koala and corn both start with the same sound, thus producing a more alliterative quality than the corn panda, which actually sounds a little weird. Plus koalas are slightly cuter, although pandas are pretty cute as well.

(left) Koala and baby...look how cute...public domain image by Brian Dell.

Hmm...the panda and the koala do have a lot in common:

1. both are "bears" (while not really being bears)
2. they each have a limited, plant-based diet
3. neither is native to the United States
4. both are depicted as cuddly toys
5. both appear in action movies

Now, my understanding of the koala is that it's one of those "harmless plant eaters" that, once again like the panda, has an unexpected nasty streak. According to Wikipedia, koalas get violent when they're disturbed and should be left to sleep for at least 16 hours a day, preferably in a nice eucalyptus tree where they're free to nosh if they wake up. You would never know this from popular depictions of the koala as in Jackie Chan's First Strike, in which he hugs a koala, then dons some really interesting-looking koala underpants before (or maybe after) going out on a snowmobile without a coat. Which makes me wonder "Would Sarah Palin approve?" And what about the practical impact of underpants (check this out).

But I digress... The point is that Jackie Chan snugs up with a koala which is just hanging out placidly in his hotel room, when in fact a real koala would be very cranky and probably draw blood if anyone even suggested checking it into the Best Western.

And pandas aren't always that much better. Just look at this panda, attacking some guy to get his jacket. A kinder interpretation might be that the poor panda was bored and didn't have any money to get to the Gap and buy its own jacket, which presents quite the mental picture. Even Kung Fu Panda, while cute, seems to get a bit testy as times.

Which brings me back to my own personal identity as a corn koala. Sure I like action films and I have a limited diet, rich in corn and other plants. But I, unlike the koala, come from a species that is rather clever in its application of corn.

Image by Sam Fentress, used under the GNU Free Documentation License,^[1] Version 1.2 or later, and the Creative Commons Attribution Share-Alike license version 2.0.^[2]. Attribution is required.

Take, for example, high explosives. In my travels, I came across a lovely little propaganda film called "The Grain that Built a Hemisphere" that explains, for the more ignorant among us, how corn caused the rise of the Americas and can be used for various applications such as feeding pigs, making flapjacks, justifying widespread human sacrifice ...oh, and blowing up Axis tanks. Pollan didn't mention this particular use for corn in his book, although he does mention ethanol, but I think it's important. Just think--no koala is going to blow us up with a eucalyptus bomb.

The no show

In “Leaving on a Jet Plane,” John Denver warbles movingly about the evils of being an internationally-acclaimed musician whose main squeeze is much less mobile. As with all John Denver songs, “Leaving on a Jet Plane” is subject to various spoofing issues (although Peter, Paul, and Mary did an OK job with it), as in the highly amusing scene in Armageddon in which the drill crew qua astronauts do an a capella rendition before boarding space shuttles, thus demonstrating their lack of aerospace knowledge. In fact, one character remarks that the safety of the world is in the hands of a bunch of men he wouldn’t trust with a potato gun.

(Right) An early jet. Probably not ever boarded by John Denver. Image by WyrdLight http://www.wyrdlight.com and distributed under Creative Commons Attribution ShareAlike 2.5 License.

…which got me to thinkin’… who would I trust with my safety—or a potato gun?

Not Surly Airline Lady, an unfortunate (and no doubt underpaid) person who tried very hard to leave me stranded in Florida at the site of the Giant Cockroach and the Closet Lizards.

Why, you may ask, should I have been stranded? The answer is simple—two airline tickets had been paid for on my behalf.

To my mind, if you buy an airline ticket for a flight and then your company (or other sponsoring organization) buys you another ticket, you call the airline and they reassign one ticket. That sounds simple. So, I called, and Nice (but possibly not terribly computer savvy) Airline Man said everything would be great, and it was, but then I had to change the return date. This reactivated all the tickets. Normally, the airline people should tell you when you have two seats, but they just crossed out the duplicate name and sold the seat again.

Oopsies!!

(Left) Toy Potato Gun. Image by Richard Wheeler 2007. Used under gnu license (link below).

Then, because I did not show up for my flight to Florida—although technically I was on the flight because of the other ticket—when I tried to check in via phone the day of my return flight, Surly Airline Lady told me that I was a “no show” so I would have to buy a third ticket costing as much as the first two tickets combined in order to get home.

Needless to say, I was unhappy. I pointed out that this policy seemed ridiculously advantageous to the airline, particularly since I had been on the outgoing flight and she was withholding my return on a technicality. Wasn’t it illegal to sell two tickets to the same person for the same flight? Let alone to demand payment a third time?

Surly Airline Lady was having none of my so-called “logic” or "business ethics” chat. Who did I think I was, a paying customer? Yeesh! I was a "no show," which is apparently a category of people somewhat less trustworthy than Ghengis Khan, the Unibomber and Jeffrey Dahmer.

Luckily, someone at the hotel told me to show up at the airport with the tickets and they would have to put me on a plane. If not, I was supposed to cry.

(Image of an airline ticket or "flugschein" by Matthias Sebulke, released into the public domain)

The airport people, who had already had a terrible day, put me on the next plane before I could even sniffle. The gate area was full of extremely surly (if not aggressive) people who had been delayed for 7 to 14 hours because of weather—people flying back to certain major metropolitan areas from Florida are not pleasant in their reactions to delay. In fact, despite my high level of crankiness, I was actually nicer than the other passengers and the airport people looked in the computer and told me the correct secret code words to use to get my old ticket back.

The next day, I called the airline to explain. They seemed unmoved until I pointed out that I felt a bit distrustful of my personal safety among a group of people who couldn't figure out how to handle a duplicate ticket. How would she feel?

I got back a flight and double sky miles.

...which brings me back to trusting someone with a potato gun....how's about this baby?

(image of potato gun by Scott VanPala used under GNU Free Documentation License, Version 1.2)