Time does not wait, we do. We wait for everything. In fact, if we scan our lives, we can clearly see how much we spend life waiting: We wait for the alarm clock to ring and mark the beginning of the day. We wait for the morning beverage to brew. We wait for the water in the shower to reach the desired temperature. We wait for the train. We wait for lunch break. We wait for the train home. We wait for our favorite TV shows. We wait for supper. We wait for real love, for payday, for vacation, for Christmas, and for our birthdays. We wait all the time.

Given this reality, however, there is perhaps one place on earth where waiting does not happen: The produce section of a conventional supermarket.

Metaphysically in this section of a supermarket, time is absent. The food industry managed to trick time into believing that it can have a rest day and visit a spa when it is in this part of the universe. The industry even contradicted the good verses in Leviticus that proclaims “to everything, there is a season–a time.”

No sir. In this God-forsaken area, time does not exist. There are no seasons. Period.

For all we know, the produce section of our favorite grocery is the actual Garden of Eden, or the real Area 51, or the lost city of Atlantis, or The Twilight Zone, where natural laws don’t apply.

I say so because in this area, there are pineapples, tomatoes, and bananas in January; strawberries, cherries, and roses in February; greens in March, and corn in April. Even flowers bloom during a paralyzing blizzard in this spot in the cosmos.

In direct contradiction to Mick Jagger’s philosophy, which states You Can’t Always Get What You Want, the supermarket is showing that Yes, You Can!

Can I have blueberries as part of my Superbowl buffet? Yes, you can!

Can I have Cucumbers for my New Year’s Eve dinner? Yes You Can!

Can I have Watermelons for Valentines Day?  Go ahead, it’s there!

Humans have always respected the seasons and this respect brings different levels of joy to the planet’s inhabitants. This explains why throughout antiquity there were harvest festivals and cosmological rituals that celebrated the passing of time marked by the seasons.

There was and should be joy in the seasons.

I know that my fashionista friend is happily anticipating the coming spring jacket designs by the way she looks at the spring collection catalog. She is stuck in an everlasting smile.

In the same way in the past, people from different world cultures from the Druids to the ancient Greeks danced naked like drunken frat boys and strippers in celebration of the coming of some revered vegetable.

Countless monuments have been erected, phallic of course, in respect to something as highly regarded as eggplant (The Washington Monument may come to mind).

Ancient public schedules were formulated to accommodate the seasons devoted to farming and harvesting. In fact, even the modern school calendar observes this pattern.

Now, this joy, unfortunately, is lost to the modern eater because of the supermarket.

Though I have once seen a somewhat lightly-stoned shopper doing a robot dance in the nude while picking up some oranges in my neighborhood grocery, I bet the dance wasn’t for a bountiful harvest.

Many food writers promote eating foods that are in season for a number of reasons. First among these of course is the taste. “There is nothing like the taste of fruit ripe from the tree or a vegetable newly harvested. Nothing,” they wrote. “It is the very taste of life.”

Another reason is the environment. If you buy out of season products in the supermarket, you are supporting a global conglomerate of food shippers, packers, and producers that guzzle petroleum like how Keith Richards used to eat drugs and bed girls during his prime.

These out of season fruits are obviously from other parts of the globe and are being plucked, packed, and shipped to us here so we can always have what we want. And without petroleum, it would be impossible. So, if you want to cut back on your petroleum dependency, start with food, then get a hybrid or ride a bike.

Patience is a virtue and good things happen to those who wait. If we can wait for everything else in this life, then why can’t we wait for a bag of cherries this summer? Why the urgency to get it in The Twilight Zone when it’s not time?

As for me, I have never eaten in accordance with the seasons but this year will be my first time to try it. I read that the first delicious things that will spring out of the soil come April are asparagus spears.

I love asparagus and I will wait.

I will be waiting for it with eager anticipation and will totally enjoy the fruits of my patience. This time, Time Is On My Side.