The American Way

During the holidays, I read where a Lake Placid lady won a prize on the subject of fruitcakes, sponsored by the Tampa Tribune. My belated congratulations to the lady.

I was somewhat dismayed by the number of negative comments I read from some of the contestants regarding fruitcakes. I would much rather emphasize those things we have in common, rather than those which tend to divide us. There comes a time, however, when a man must step out of the shadows and let his feelings be known, and stand up for his beliefs. Is this not the American way?

My friends, there is a vast left-wing conspiracy out there, whose goal is to ridicule something we hold dear; the American fruitcake. For years, the noble fruitcake has been maligned by those "Elitist Snobs" on the left.

To me, the fruitcake is a part of "Americana," and a part of our American heritage. The fruitcake is as American as, well, the fruitcake. Still, they say with their noses held high, "Only a right-wing wacko nut could like the fruitcake." Well, my dear Mother, God rest her soul, spent hours toiling over fruitcakes, with her gnarled and bony hands, and what fruitcakes they were! They were chock full of those wonderful ingredients: flour, sugar, walnuts, pecans, raisins, those odd bits of green rubber, and cherries; those wonderful cherries. Each cherry would say, "Catch me if you can." Well, friends, I always could.

When those cakes were done, mom would set one aside, wrap a bit of cheesecloth around it, sprinkle it with a dash of rum, put it into a cake tin, and send it to her handsome young son.

Why, I particularly remember one that she sent me in 1952. Friends, I am still eating on that cake. There are three more in the closet and a fourth, which serves as a dandy doorstop.

Yes, the fruitcake is an indelible part of me, of all of us. A mixture of many ingredients. Why, our national emblem should be the fruitcake. Even I have been called one on occasion. Institutions will come and go. Governments will rise and fall; there will be wars, and rumors of war; young lovers will hold hands and look at the moon and, they too, will be gone.

Only the lowly fruitcake will be constant and faithful. Yea, it will be with us, always. So, my friends, when you hear someone malign the fruitcake, jump up and shout, "I love fruitcake." It's the American way.

In closing, just let me say, "I know not what course others may take, but, as for me, give me fruitcake and a good hot cup of coffee."

Jim Gulledge
Sebring