October 13, 2012 by trixiec67
There has been much hoopla in recent times about bringing jobs back “home” here to the United States. Instead of sending jobs overseas for much cheaper labor, keep the jobs here and employ the out-of-work Americans that desperately need work and boost our economy. Sounds like a great idea, right? Big corporations don’t see it that way. It cuts too deep into the CEO’s benefit package and little extras. The trickle will be felt down the line to the rest of board members and trustees and their big fat bank accounts.
Why am I getting up on my little soap box about this? I recently received an email from Carhartt about their “Made in America” line of clothing. They even have a video for you watch. Unfortunately I cannot post it to my blog. You can find it on YouTube. So I sat and watched this in formative little video. It gave information such as all the clothes are still designed in Detroit (the original location of the company’s birthplace). The “American Made” clothes are produced in Kentucky and Tennessee. They show you the faithful employees that have been with the company for many years. They talk about what a great company they work for, blah, blah, blah.
What really irritated me however, when I clicked on the “Line of Clothing” that is made in the U.S., its pathetic. It starts off showing you two men’s jackets and a pair of pants. The next set of three boxes are three more men’s jackets. Then the line consists of THIRTY-SEVEN different types of SOCKS. That’s right folks. SOCKS. Woo-hoo. Go nuts picking out your American made socks. Don’t worry ladies, they’ve included socks for you too. Everything else in the Carhartt line is made over the border. I believe I heard they’ve chosen Mexico. Please don’t quote me on that. If I’m wrong, the Mexican workers might get angry.
So, five men’s jackets, one pair of men’s pants and thirty-seven different styles of socks are made in the good old U. S. of A. by Carhartt. I guess I shouldn’t complain so much. There are other so-called American companies that have taken all their business overseas or across the border.
Have you checked the label on your Dole Pineapple in the grocery store lately. It doesn’t come from Hawaii! What happened to all those pineapple plantations on the island? The pineapples come from the Philippines. So much for Hawaiian pineapples.
I guess the stipulations the United States put on the kind of pesticides that can be can be used and the cost of irrigation and paying the average American farm/plantation worker put the plantation out of business in Hawaii. Start checking the labels on your canned fruits and vegetables in the grocery store. You’ll be amazed to see how far away they come from. I honestly don’t know who our American farmers are growing their food for, because it ain’t us.
The only way you’ll get to eat the food that’s grown in the soil of the United States is if it comes out of YOUR backyard or if you live close enough to go to a local Farmer’s Market during the appropriate seasons. That means, if you live in the states that get the snow you better stock up and have a big chest freeze or know how to do your own canning.
Trust me, canning isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Every Labor Day Weekend when I was a kid, our parent forced us into child labor. We had to clean, squeeze, boil down, jar, and then boil the jars of literally over one jars of tomatoes. This would last us until the next Labor Day. We made the block smell like the Heinz Tomato Ketchup Factory. Ah, what fond memories.
Boiling hot lava spitting up out of the pot as you stirred it so it wouldn’t burn and stick to the bottom of the bottom hitting you in the face. retrieving the lids out of a boiling pot of water with tongs and drying it off so mom could put it atop the jar after wiping any drips off the top and screwing on the lid. Dad’s job, of course, would be to lower the piping hot jars into the water to boil them, insuring that the would seal so we would get botulism from improperly sealed jars.
So I digress from made in America to enslaved in my own basement in America. I might tell you about the strawberry jam fiasco in another blog. It’s now time to get down off the soap box before some push me off. Don’t forget to check those labels. If you’re a true American, you’ll be starving and wearing sack cloth for a loooong time. Have a nice day now.