Ubiquity By Jamie Kirkpatrick

It’s October and pumpkins are everywhere: in patches, on porches, in pies, even in our coffee. (But not mine; I draw a sharp line after “black.”) Pumpkins are to October what turkeys are to November and the Grinch is to December. In a word, at least for the next couple of weeks, pumpkins are as ubiquitous as all those political attack ads polluting the airwaves in the remaining weeks leading up to the second Tuesday in November. Along with the aroma of pumpkin-spice lattes, there’s venom in the air.

According to Wikipedia—so it must be true, right?—pumpkins belong to the Cucurbitacae family which means they’re first cousins to cucumbers and melons. They are technically a fruit, yet nutritionally speaking, they’re more similar to vegetables. Pumpkins are starchy little devils, but they’re also rich in fiber and energy-providing carbohydrates. Because they’e loaded with potassium, vitamin A, and beta-carotene, pumpkins, ubiquitous as they are, do more good than harm.

Alas; the same cannot be said of attack ads. They are the devil’s sermons. They perpetuate hate, spread lies, and instead of educating voters, they drive a wedge between friends and neighbors. Even worse (if that’s possible), they create a tsunami of misinformation that makes the destruction visited on folk down in North Carolina and Florida by the likes of Helene and Milton pale in comparison. Truth goes missing, buried in storm surge and debris, and no amount of FEMA aid will ever uncover it.

While attack ads are a national disgrace, they’re a double disgrace here in Maryland where two seemingly credible Senatorial candidates have spent millions of dollars ripping each other apart. Money that could have been spent on educating voters about the candidates respective policies and ideas have instead have been diverted like sludge into the storm sewer. Don’t the paid politicos running these two campaigns understand the simple truth that misinformation is a snake in the grass, and that hate only begets more hate? We deserve so much better; we deserve to be informed, not manipulated.

Second alas: this screed will fall off on deaf ears. Attack ads are advancing, not retreating. They have become the bones of a political campaign, given breath by dark money and flesh by mass media. To make matters worse, we have only ourselves to blame. Whether we ridicule the attack ads or believe them, they get our attention, and in this media-driven world, that’s all that really matters.

So, if you don’t mind, I’d rather talk about pumpkins. They might be ubiquitous, but they’re harmless. There was a time when I’d beg my parents to buy an enormous pumpkin for our front porch and let me lop off the top, scoop out the insides, save the seeds for roasting, and carve a gap-tooth smile into its orange facade. Once the candle was inserted and lit, I could step back and admire my masterpiece. It was a spooky nightmare made real, and it held a place of honor right on my own front porch. Kind of like one of those ubiquitous lawn signs that have sprung up everywhere like giant autumnal weeds. Oops, there I go again…

You know who I am and I approved this message.

I’ll be right back.

Jamie Kirkpatrick is a writer and photographer who lives in Chestertown. His work has appeared in the Washington Post, the Baltimore Sun, the Philadelphia Inquirer, the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, the Washington College Alumni Magazine, and American Cowboy Magazine.

His new novel, “The Tales of Bismuth; Dispatches from Palestine, 1945-1948” explores the origins of the Arab-Israeli conflict. It is available on Amazon.