Ripe Press

Sitting my car and smelling the reek of ripe and rotten tomatoes, in transit from the farm where I work to distribution to multiple restaurants throughout the city where I live, my son rose a bit of a stink, so to speak, about the pungency of traveling in a small space with a ripe scent. I found myself philosophizing about the importance of that which we call “ripe.” It can mean a lot of things, but most often, means ready for consumption, for nourishment. It — whatever “it” is, in terms of ripeness — sits at that moment between waiting and putrid, when a thing comes in to it’s own. It strikes me that “ripe” is the present, it is where we are at. It is being alive and alert, able to philosophize about a thing like what it means to be “ripe” with a four year old who swears he will never eat a tomato to a mother who sometimes grows them for a living.

I decided to write my blog about being ripe, to all things ripe, but especially, the time being ripe, to discussion of pressing topics. Thus, I elected to call this blog RIPE. Press. Here I explore topics ripe for discussion in an attempt to be truly present in this world, here and now, each day — pressed between waiting and putrid — perfect, if fragrant.