The Empire Strikes Back

Do your remember-- and maybe you don't, because for most people I think this wasn't a huge issue or a big story-- but do you remember a few years back when the dairy people started suing the soy people?

It was when vegan dairy alternatives like soy milk, which had all been around for a long, long time, had a big upswing in popularity. All of a sudden, you didn't have to get warm EdenSoy (god bless them for being there when we needed them, but I wouldn't want to go back) from the dusty shelf of the one dimly health food store in town; you could actually go to the dairy case and the super market and choose from a variety of brands and flavors. It was fantastic.

But the dairy industry didn't think so. The people who spend billions telling you that milk does a body good and sputtering nonsense about "happy cows" didn't want a bunch of hippies cutting into their profits, and so they sued.

They sued by redefining the word "milk." "Milk," they insisted, is something that comes from the udders of a cow. Period. Therefore, "soy milk" was misleading. They demanded that the term no longer be used, and that soy milk not be stocked in the dairy case.

Presumably with the very best of intentions, to protect consumers who might be tricked into drinking that stuff.

Never mind that soy milk was a healthier (for bodies, and for the planet) alternative.

And certainly never mind that goat's milk, coconut milk, and countless other milks have been out there for a long, long (long) time.

"Milk" means "from cows." Period.

I don't know exactly how those cases played out, but soy milk is still soy milk, and I can still buy it in whatever section of the store the good people who work there decide to put it in, so I guess Big Dairy lost.

And I'm sure you remember the whole Oprah scandal, right?

Big Beef sued Oprah and Howard Lyman (the Mad Cowboy) for having the nerve to say mean things about beef. In England, McDonald's had successfully shut down criticism from activists who dared to talk about the health problems associated with eating their "food." So, using new agricultural libel laws (ie, laws that say you can't say bad things about big food producers), Big Beef tried to stick it to Oprah and Howard.

Luckily, Oprah is Oprah. They probably would have fared better screwing with someone else.

Or how about a couple of years ago, when the Dept of Health and Human Services changed the content of their Public Service Announcements on breast feeding? They didn't change the content because there was something wrong with the content. Nope. They left out some good information-- they sabotaged their own efforts to promote the extremely healthy choice of breast feeding-- because the drug dealers that make and promote infant formula didn't like that information going around. Breast feeding was getting more popular, and they didn't want to lose any more profits to those damn hippies and activists and feminists.

And then, of course, there's Monsanto. But we've talked about Monsanto before.

Think about all of those old stories after running into some new ones.

If you've been here before, you know that I'm a little bit of a local food junkie. I'm not a perfect locavore-- I don't know where my Vegenaise was made, but it's delicious and I keep on buying it anyway-- but I go for the local as much as I can. I'm big on the farmers' markets, the co-op. I work hard in my back yard garden. I only wash with local soap. I do my canning and my freezing and I know where my tofu comes from.

When I have the choice, I eat Flour City Pasta.

Flour City makes good, good stuff. I've been buying it since before it was Flour City-- for all I know, it was just The-Guy-At-The-Farmers'-Market-Selling-Pasta Pasta. It's locally made (well, Rochester, but local enough). It's locally sourced (to an extent, at least; I don't think they're 100% local ingredients). It's really, really good (lots of cool flavors). It's all vegan. And buying it has always been... well, sort of fun.

They sell this stuff in the co-op and some other local health food places now, but before that I could only get it at the Regional Market. And I really enjoyed getting it at the Regional Market. Sam and I would be meandering through the stalls, picking out pies and veggies and his (local) yogurt. He'd be on my shoulders, holding at least one of the bags for me, and then we'd see a whole bunch of people milling around a big vendor's stall, and I'd think "ah, the Pasta Guy." We'd get to the stall and there'd be all of these boxes set up, under plastic sneeze shields, each box full of a different shape or color. People would be looking through those sneeze shield windows, figuring out what they liked best, what looked the most exciting. The guys working there were always friendly, and I'd often get a comment on how fast Sam was growing since they'd seen him last (I don't know if they really remembered us, or if they were just good enough salespeople to know that moms and dads eat that stuff up like crazy). Anyway, when you were ready to place your order, you told the guy what you wanted, and how much you wanted. Half a pound? A pound? Ten pounds? Half of this, half of that? It was all your choice. The atmosphere was fun. The people (buyers and sellers alike) were friendly. And the pasta was always very, very good.

On my last visit to the Regional Market (I get to that one less often since I've moved to the other side of town, have to resign myself to smaller, closer markets sometimes), the scene was different.

For starters, I was alone. But still enjoying it.

I saw the Pasta Guys, but that vendor's stall wasn't so crowded. It didn't have that happy, street market vibe.

And there were no sneeze shields. No big boxes of bright colors.

There were just some shelves. On the shelves, sealed bags of pasta.

The guy working there-- a different person than I'm used to, but just as friendly-- was talking to a local organic farmer. They were both frustrated. I asked what the deal was.

The deal, apparently, was that someone-- someone wise, someone with all of our best interests in mind-- had decided that in New York State, it's just not acceptable to sell pasta out of big boxes of bright colors under sneeze shields. A regulation or law or what have you had been passed (or perhaps more narrowly enforced, or perhaps "reinterpreted" as often happens in my own field-- more on that later, maybe) which said that any food products prepared off-site must be sold in sealed containers.

Making a sandwich in the open air-- moving the bread to the plate and the veggies and meat to the bread and handing it over uncovered to the paying customer-- was fine.

Selling pasta in the open air-- putting the dry pasta in a bag, handing the bag over to the paying customer-- was not fine. It was just... unhealthy. Had to be stopped.

So all of the pasta was in sealed bags. One size fits all. Want a half pound? Sorry, no half pounds. Want a little of this, a little of that? Sorry, the bags are sealed.

Along with all that clearly very horribly unhealthy disgusting behavior, what the new reg also stopped was what everyone used to show up for. According to the guy working there, business was down at his stall. Not that he needed to say so. For the first time ever, I was the only customer. There was no line.

That whole vibe, that whole wholesome feel, was now against regulations.

For all of our sakes. For our own good. Clearly.

The organic farmer talking to the pasta guy commented on how this was no surprise and that there'd probably be more stuff like this coming down. After all, this whole organic, fresh, local, healthy thing that was going on was cutting into the profits of big chains, and, more importantly, Big Agriculture. I mean, look in the paper-- yes, there's still a massive obesity epidemic, there's still a health crisis, there's still high cholesterol and hear disease, and there's still a surplus of big polluters and food miles and pesticides and what have you-- but there's also this growing movement, this movement of people looking for something better. Better for themselves, better for their communities, better for their world. It makes the back pages every day, these little organic stories, local farms, food movements. If it gets bigger-- hell, that could change the way people behave. So it needs to stop now.

Plastic bags. Sealed. Business down. Who's next?

I was still mulling that over, still annoyed and disgusted and aggravated and not sure what to do about it, who to yell at, when I got home, clicked around the internet, and read a little bit at The Accidental Environmentalist. That's a very cool blog that I very recently discovered.

I landed on this post. It got me riled up all over again.

Way down there in the hot and soggy depths of Florida, some local Republicans sponsored an event "to prove that bicycles are inefficient and impractical for transportation." It involved a "race" between a bicyclist and the driver of a Chevy Avalanche. A race that involved stopping to pick up some groceries, dry cleaning, and lumber from various sites. Without a carrier for the bike.

Because apparently biking is becoming a little more popular in Florida these days (as it is in Syracuse, though sadly not an option for me with my wickedly long, environmentally unfriendly commute).

Can't have that. Can't have obese America seeing those damn hippies making healthy choices. Can't have gas-addled America seeing those damn activists making environmentally sound choices. Must mock. Must ridicule. Must shut it down. Must, must, must. Otherwise, what might happen to the profits? To the game plan? To business as usual?

It depresses me. It makes me angry. It makes me... disappointed?

Again, I don't even know the right words for it (that happens a lot).

It makes me something.

And it makes me feel the need to do something more, to push harder, to find my voice, to say "no" to all this nonsense.

******

As a little update, I'm adding in the link that John Farrier left in the comments.

It's about the SWAT raid on an Amish farmer... for selling raw milk...