Toledo Tales

Guest editorial by Orel Johanssen, peanut lover

I don't know about you, but I sure love my peanuts. What really grinds my rear axle, though, are peanut-makers who pass off inferior goobers to the unsuspecting public. Man, there's nothing more disappointing than grabbing a handful of some lousy salted peanuts, only to get this stale nut with hardly any salt.

You don't get that with Planter's, though, because that Planter's guy makes one helluva salted peanut.

Yeah, maybe Mr. Peanut is just a cartoon character, with that crazy monocle and his top hat and cane, but you just gotta believe he's based on a real-life Mr. Peanut guy over at Planter's world headquarters, somebody who takes his nuts seriously and makes sure that only the highest quality cottonseed and peanut oils get used, and that highest-grade salt gets dumped on those tasty groundnuts.

And I would just bet that the real Mr. Peanut looks a lot like the cartoon Mr. Peanut, except he doesn't have a shell and all that. Sheesh - that would be sweet, though, wouldn't it? I mean, what if a guy had a brown husk-like pod on his outsides like Mr. Peanut? He'd sure be in for some wacky times at parties and such, wouldn't he? Can't you just imagine what kind of nutty fun that'd be, you know, if he put on a pair of those greaser shoes like Pee-Wee Herman and danced to "Tequila" on top of the bar, or if he found a pair of roller skates and started whizzing around the mall or something like one of those funny guys on the show Jackass?

That would be totally sweet, dude.

Left: It's more than just high-society style with Mr. Peanut

I have sampled many a peanut in my days, and hands down: Planter's kicks more peanut ass than any other brand of peanut.

Well, maybe "ass" is not horticulturally correct and all, since the word "ass" kind of suggests that peanuts are like people, which they clearly are not. They are a lot more like crabs or lobsters or walnuts or overcooked lasagna or macadamia nuts or clams or coconuts or any of those other kinds of foods that you have to crack open to get to the good parts.

But getting back to Mr. Peanut: not only is he the best peanut maker in the world, but he's kind of like a really decent guy, too, because in spite of all his money - you gotta have some serious cash to afford duds like he's got - you can tell he's a class act, the kind of person you wouldn't get all crazy about your sister dating, making you so frigging angry that you grab a shovel and chase the dude out of the house with Mom and Sis and Dad and the dogs all going frigging nutso when you smash his head with the heavy iron blade over and over outside on the front lawn that Daddy just mowed because he's just not right for her, goll-dangit, justnotright justnotright justnotright.

Yeah, that Mr. Peanut's a good guy, and he makes one helluva salted peanut.

Labels: Mr. Peanut, peanuts, salted peanuts