We interrupt your regularly scheduled program today for a word from our sponsor.
Alright fine, I don’t actually have a sponsor, but if I did it would be a banana or a local farmer, even though there’s no connection between the two; not when you live in the cold tundra of Ohio.
We don’t grow bananas here, and it might be a good thing too because I’d be swinging from the banana trees faster than Tarzan on the hunt for Jane. Can we talk about Tarzan for a quick second? That guy got to spend his entire existence walking around in a loin cloth, chasing women, and eating bananas. Not too shabby if you ask me. Also, I suspect Tarzan was the first high-profile public banana eater, and he did it in while mostly nude. I guarantee he made eye contact with Jane while he was eating them too.
When I first began my career as a food and fitness blogger, I thought I’d be known for my healthy, whole food loving ways. Perhaps people would be drawn to my fever for fitness, my vehemence for veggies, my love of all things local, or even my fond fancy for fruit, coupled with a chunk of cheddar. Or maybe they’d be turned off by so much alliteration. There’s no accounting for word play these days. Not when there’s so many OMG’s or ROTFL’s to be had. Bunch of hussies, that lot.
Much like real life though, things rarely happen the way you think, which is why I’ve somehow become known as the public banana girl; that and “The One Who Eats Cheese.” True story. I couldn’t make this up even if I tried. It turns out I’m the Harry Potter of the dairy industry and gloriously indecent for Chiquita, Dole or Del Monte. Pick your potassium of choice.
I’m guessing my #publicbanana campaign has a lot to do with my present banana girl label. In hindsight, I could see how it’d have that effect. At the time though, I didn’t realize how much scandal surrounds my beloved bananas, nor my desire to consume them publicly. I mean sure they’re phallic, we all knew that. With a glowing stat sheet, they’re pretty much the perfect food, and it doesn’t get easier than peel and bite. You don’t even need utensils to enjoy their fabulousness, which is just one of the many reasons Tarzan loved them.
The point of this entire post, pretending the first few paragraphs were merely for fodder or filler, is to explain the method behind my madness. While many of you recognize the beauty of my public banana campaign, most of you have no earthly idea why I actually do it, and it’s time to change all that. Drumrole please….
The sole purpose behind the public banana is because I’m a wise ass, with emphasis on the wise part. No really, it’s because someone told me bananas should only be consumed in private. I’m sure you can imagine my reaction, considering my parents never taught me this valuable life lesson. I cocked my head to the side, furrowed my brow, wiped the last trace of banana from my lips and said, “Say what?”
I had no idea this was a thing, which is why I decided to make consuming them publicly My Thing. By the way, reverse psychology never works on me (snort).
One final note because I cannot ignore this for another second: for those naysayers who try to hoodwink us, suggesting bananas will make us fat or prevent us from losing weight, I respond with, “Pish Posh. The quality and quantity of food you eat will make you fat or prevent you from losing weight. Blaming it on a banana is preposterous. You leave my friend alone.”
With that nasty business out of the way, I propose you go forth and embrace your bananas. Hold them up high, whisper sweet nothings into their ear, and last but never, ever least, eat them publicly.
Wait. Are you still here? Ohhhhh, you want to know how to contribute to the public banana campaign. See, this is why I adore you all. To spread the banana love, hash tag your photos #publicbanana and share it on The Gram, Facebook, and Twitter.