Word Wednesday: The Power of Language

As I believe I’ve mentioned, we’re part of a food ordering co-op. This is the largest organic food distributor in the US. It used to be an independent called Blooming Prairie, now it’s UNFI (that’s another story), and it provides food for places like Hy-Vee stores and Sam’s Club (yuck). But at least that means that the driver would be coming this way anyway, so our orders aren’t really creating more food transportation fuel use. Because, you know what they say, it’s better to get your food locally than organically. (I believe the rule of thumb is, if it comes from farther than 20 miles from your home, go local rather than organic; but for the life of me, I can’t find that anywhere right now. You can have a look at The Sustainable Table if you’re motivated. Then come back and give me the link, OK?)

With the bulk discount and our chest freezer in the basement, we can load up on organic frozen vegetables. Last week, I took out a bag of frozen spinach (we got it in the spring, don’t worry: no E. coli in our spinach) and, as usual, smiled as I took out the lovely package:


Ah, Woodstock Farms, how snazzy your package looks. And, take a closer look, they have their business philosophy right there on the front of the package:

How true: “A worthy vision and a necessary endeavor”. I applaud your endeavor, Woodstock Farms!

Who are Woodstock Farms, you ask? Well, if we turn the package over, we can let them speak for themselves:

Clearly, they are the Heart and Soul of the commitment to Mother Earth. (Are you hearing the angels sing, too?) I get a buzz out of supporting good business. So I’m happy that this beautiful bag of frozen USDA organic spinach is on my countertop at this moment. A moment which provides an oasis of goodness in a world filled with greedy Ken Lays and ruthless Jeff Skillings, with mega-farms and poor business practices (now you’ve got to be hearing the angels, am I right?). I am a curious sort of person, and so my eye continues down the package. Where, below the evocative description of Woodstock Farms, there is a bit more information.

Cue the tire screech and the scratch of a needle across a vinyl record album, please. Freeze the angelic harmonies. Now, move in to the close-up of the text:

Product of fricking CHINA?!!!

The entire package is one big trick. They are honey-tongued devils, those Woodstock *spit* distributor people. Caveat emptor, indeed.

PS: Bonus points to the first person to identify the creative touch I’ve added to this post. And I mention this because, being an insecure person, I worry that if I don’t mention it, no one will notice it.