Buffalo Smoothie
In 1978 I was blending smoothies in the student union at Tufts, in Medford. Growing up in Swampscott and hardly traveling at all, I had never even heard the word “smoothie” before, though maybe it was a fairly new thing. It was so pleasant making them—mainly yogurt (which roommates and I also produced in our apartment), banana, peanut butter, honey, wheat germ, milk and/or orange juice. Probably some granola for good measure. I know for certain the banana was essential and gave it structure.
Wish I could remember the undoubtedly clever name of the smoothie stand; it was “crunchy” as hell and we were all in for the power of natural dairy and protein. I could have lived indefinitely on these smoothies. At least that’s how it seemed.
About that time I also became aware of things called “Muenster cheese” and “tortillas,” since we also sold veggie wraps. The profits benefited the “Roots and Growth House,” a campus housing unit where I would sometimes hang, helping make and enjoy vegetarian meals.
Bob Marley could be heard on any given spring day pumping out of apartments around campus. This was another revelation—Reggae. My musical tastes until then had skewed bi-coastal: New England folkie (Dylan, Tom Rush, Bill Staines, David Mallet) and L.A. folk-rock (CSNY, Joni Mitchell, Jackson Browne, Youngbloods, Eagles). I’d largely ignored a lot that friends had main-lined: Stones, Floyd, Zeppelin, Tull, Black Shabbas… Since I was emulating my brothers and playing acoustic guitar, that stuff just felt too far afield. Yet somehow I had been entirely oblivious to Reggae! This music—with its positivity-even-through-hard-times ethos and a beat that seems to meld with the rhythm of the heart—felt like a perfect accompaniment to the flow of liberal arts college life in the late 70’s. Mellow, with a beat.
The blending of a smoothie takes a little time. Today you can reach into a store case for a bottled one, but where’s the satisfaction in that? At the stand you could see and customize every ingredient going in. Thicker, thinner, sweeter, peanutier. Watch it all meld together. You spoke to the maker, and they spoke to you. You interacted with the food, the environment, the vibe. And you let Bob Marley ease you through the morning.
posted by stamblog1 at 9:31 AM
3 Comments:
Wonderful piece! So real and down-to-earth. And so many cool turns of phrase: more “hydrochloric,” not “lysergic”, Black Shabbas :)
Of course I can relate to it all, but from my decidedly different college experience (and before). I was all-in for Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, etc., and never really discovered The Dead until much later, and then reluctantly at first. Instead, I was soon initiated into New Wave: David Bowie, Talking Heads, etc. Maybe if I'd heard Mars Hotel around when you did, as a fellow Firesign lover, I would have had a similar epiphany.
As for Reggae, I discovered it at the same time also. Saw the film "The Harder They Come," and I was smitten. I assume that the title of this blog is meant to reference Buffalo Soldier, but you're being subtle about it...
The other big difference between our experiences had to do with the content of the drinks. I also learned to make and serve a smoothie-like drink, but its most important ingredient was alcohol. They were called Green Machines, and we made them in a large trash barrel, lined with a green plastic bag. Sprite, Lime soda, gallons of lime sherbet, and quarts of vodka, mixed to just the right texture and toxicity. We sold them at 50 cents a cup on Thursday afternoons, right out in the dorm hallway.
Keep writing!
David T — so glad you wrote. I check my blog every year or two and tonight was one of those times. Have no idea when you posted here, aside from at 11:44 AM. You were the first blogger on the planet—I know it—and compelled me to find this outlet. I appreciate the encouragement to keep writing. It’s a nice outlet, stringing together thoughts and feelings from time to time. Hope to do more.
Oh and yes of course it was a reference to Buffalo Soldier
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