Plums and Prunes

Prunes in America have always been associated with old people to me: some kind of vaguely unattractive thing they would eat for medicinal purposes.

But as we often do in English, the dried fruit we name after the French word for the fruit itself: prune is the French word for plum.

When I was kid, my grandparents had a couple of plum trees in their backyard.  I have vivid memories of carefully selecting the perfectly ripe plum (perhaps a bit over-ripe actually) on the tree and eating it right there, standing in its shade.  (pro-tip: always pick the plum on the shady side of the tree; it will still be surprisingly cool even deep into the day).  The sweet freshness coupled with the softness of the flesh of the plum could not be beat.  Sometimes it would dribble down my chin and I would lean forward so as not to drip on my feet.  It was some kind of holy communion with nature for a young Kenny.

I long ago stopped even trying to eat a plum since they invariably disappointed me.  The version of plums I can access now just don't match up to childhood memory.

"Prunes?" you ask. Well, yes, I buy those in bulk from Costco.  Is there a metaphor for youth and old age lurking in this post somewhere.  Why, no... not at all...