Aw, shucks.

Just when you think you’ve found common ground with newfriends, it all falls apart.

We do, sadly, live in a divisive country.

We can talk around the elephant in the room, pretend itdoesn’t exist, act like it doesn’t matter and then someone, innocently, servesup a tomato sandwich and all hell breaks loose.

With that simple act, the beast is unleashed.  

It immediately becomes clear that stark lines have beendrawn.  Other opinions don’t matter.  Compromise is out of the question.  Change is NOT the order of the day.

Will the die-hard Ohio tomato-lover concede that the NewJersey tomato may have some redeeming values?  Probably not.

How about the North Carolina tomato versus the Marylandtomato?  Don’t go there.  It’ll get ugly.

The South Carolina tomato really doesn’t have skin in thegame unless it’s a Dempsey tomato.  Wecan all agree on that.

At some point, the prickly issue of corn will inevitablyenter the conversation.  When thathappens, more wine should be poured or people should simply go home.

We are each firm in our beliefs that the produce of our pastis still the best produce on earth.  Ourmothers and fathers would have served us nothing less than the juiciest,tastiest, and closest-to-home grown fruits and vegetables.  Best not to question our heritage.

But with understanding and appreciation for those differences, we can all take a stroll down memory lane and friendships can move forward.

Writer’s last word:  Ohio tomatoes are, without a doubt, the best!

Image of vegetables thanks to WebMD.com