No Stupid Questions
No such thing. Ask away!
!nostupidquestions is a community dedicated to being helpful and answering each others' questions on various topics.
The rules for posting and commenting, besides the rules defined here for lemmy.world, are as follows:
Rules (interactive)
Rule 1- All posts must be legitimate questions. All post titles must include a question.
All posts must be legitimate questions, and all post titles must include a question. Questions that are joke or trolling questions, memes, song lyrics as title, etc. are not allowed here. See Rule 6 for all exceptions.
Rule 2- Your question subject cannot be illegal or NSFW material.
Your question subject cannot be illegal or NSFW material. You will be warned first, banned second.
Rule 3- Do not seek mental, medical and professional help here.
Do not seek mental, medical and professional help here. Breaking this rule will not get you or your post removed, but it will put you at risk, and possibly in danger.
Rule 4- No self promotion or upvote-farming of any kind.
That's it.
Rule 5- No baiting or sealioning or promoting an agenda.
Questions which, instead of being of an innocuous nature, are specifically intended (based on reports and in the opinion of our crack moderation team) to bait users into ideological wars on charged political topics will be removed and the authors warned - or banned - depending on severity.
Rule 6- Regarding META posts and joke questions.
Provided it is about the community itself, you may post non-question posts using the [META] tag on your post title.
On fridays, you are allowed to post meme and troll questions, on the condition that it's in text format only, and conforms with our other rules. These posts MUST include the [NSQ Friday] tag in their title.
If you post a serious question on friday and are looking only for legitimate answers, then please include the [Serious] tag on your post. Irrelevant replies will then be removed by moderators.
Rule 7- You can't intentionally annoy, mock, or harass other members.
If you intentionally annoy, mock, harass, or discriminate against any individual member, you will be removed.
Likewise, if you are a member, sympathiser or a resemblant of a movement that is known to largely hate, mock, discriminate against, and/or want to take lives of a group of people, and you were provably vocal about your hate, then you will be banned on sight.
Rule 8- All comments should try to stay relevant to their parent content.
Rule 9- Reposts from other platforms are not allowed.
Let everyone have their own content.
Rule 10- Majority of bots aren't allowed to participate here.
Credits
Our breathtaking icon was bestowed upon us by @Cevilia!
The greatest banner of all time: by @TheOneWithTheHair!
view the rest of the comments
The other day I ordered a burger and they put tomatoes on it even though I asked them not to. I was about to complain, but decided to take a bite anyway and…huh. The tomato had no flavour whatsoever. I used to not like the taste of tomatoes but how could I object to this?
So what does this mean? Are my taste buds not functioning like they used to? But I spent lunch looking it up and apparently, there is a fair consensus that tomatoes, along with a host of other fruits and vegetables, really are blander today than when I was a kid. For something I never liked, this kind of works out but…
My wife, a keen gardener of heirloom tomatoes, says it's because the varieties that sell commercially are bred for long shelf-life and nothing else.
My grandmother died last year at the age of 103. I'm 41. I can remember being a kid, before she became too old to maintain the house she raised 4 kids in. It was a BIG house. It had a HUGE backyard, that as a kid I didn't have any appriciation for how massive that place was. Now, today, I remember the 80s, and think "wait......was my grandpa rich before he died?" I was 5 when he died, but he picked out the house in the 1960s, that she then lived alone in after he died. All her children were adults with their own children by then.
The end result is, she said to my grandpa "I don't care what you do inside the house. I don't care how you decorate. I don't care what furniture you buy. I just want a comfortable bed, and that backyard is MINE." My grandpa, who HATED maintaining the outdoors, readily agreed to this. It meant she would do the yardwork that men of the time were mostly expected to do. While he got the house to himself (mostly). She used the backyard to grow a garden. A big garden. Lived in the city, but you'd swear this was a farmland with no animals.
Everytime I'd go over to her house as a kid, I'd run to the garden and pick off beans. These long pod style green beans. And these other green beans which were more narrow.
I'd eat them right where they were growing. And every time my dad would be like "HEY!!! THAT'S NOT YOUR GARDEN!!! YOU CAN'T JUST EAT THINGS FROM THE GARDEN!!! I'M YOUR DAD!!! YOU HAVE TO LISTEN TO ME!!!"
And every time, my Grandma, who was not a yeller, and not an angry person would yell back at my dad "HEY! THAT IS MY GARDEN!!! AND I SAY HE CAN EAT AS MUCH HEALTHY FRUITS AND VEGITABLES AS HE WANTS!!! I'M YOUR MOM!!! YOU HAVE TO LISTEN TO ME!!!"
It was more in a mocking him sense, for being so angry over something so stupid. Oh no, a growing boy wants to eat healthy vegitables! What a tragedy! His logic being that I have to ask permission before eating other peoples food. Which in most contexts makes sense.
Until you realize, my grandma was like 120lbs, and she was growing like 60lbs of food in her garden. She wasn't shy of saying that every neighborhood kid (which was a lot of kids) and all her grandkids, and her own adult kids were free to eat as much as they wanted, take as much as they wanted home. She enjoyed growing the food, but harvesting it was a chore. Plus, it was meant for all of us anyways, so if we grabed it straight from the vine, that was just free harvesting labor that she didn't have to do, with the food going to the same place anyways.
When you ate food off her vine, you knew you were at grams house. Most people miss their childhood because they miss a tv show, or a friend group they had, or the freedom of not having bills and responsibility. I miss that garden, and helping my grandma harvest. I was 5 years old, running around, picking beans, and listening to grandma tell her stories of how she met my grandpa, and what life in the 60s was like. Which for the time would be like me today explaining what 2004 was like. The 60s seems like such a culturally distant time ago, but at the time she was talking about this, it was just 20 years prior. I'm getting nostolgic for the 80s, and the 60s, a decade I wasn't even alive for, because I can vividly remember her telling me what life was like during the civil rights movements of the late 60s. She talked about what my dad was like when he was a kid. She wasn't afraid to take the piss out of my dad by embarassing him to his son. All while we picked beans, and strawberries, and berries, and her favorite tomatoes.
She LOVED tomatoes. Loved loved loved them. She used to say "I know everyones welcome to my garden, but I might have to start growing more tomatoes, or placing restrictions on them. I don't know WHAT I'd do if everybody wanted my tomatoes! I can't get enough of them!"
Which was her polite way of basically doing the whole garden of eden thing, except instead of an apple, she was saying "don't fucking touch my tomatoes!!!" Which nobody did. Also, nobody was naked.
Then in the mid 90s, she eventually had to admit she could no longer upkeep a 6 bedroom house, and a yard that was meant for kids to play in, when she had no kids. By then I was a teenager, and while I could have played in the sense of sports, my days of egg hunting on easter, and running around in capes, and jumping on trees was behind me. My aunt always said "You know, she held off on selling that house, so you could grow up first. It wouldn't be fair that all her grandkids EXCEPT you got to enjoy the garden, and that yard (I'm the youngest). Then as time went on, eventually she began complaining about tomatoes around the year 2010. She'd say "Is it too late to go get my garden back? These things are tasteless, and not at all juicy. What am I supposed to do with a dry flavorless red bulb? Can it even be called a tomato??? I'm just going to call it worthless."
I guess I took a while to get to the point of the point of the tomato in this story, but I'm never going to appologize for rambling on and on about my hero in life. I'll ramble on and on about her to people who never met her, when I'M 90 years old. I'll seem crazy, and it'll just seem like old man rambling crazy talk about tomatoes, and pickling jars, and tree forts, and easter egg hunts with 1000 easter eggs for a group of 20 kids.
I'll seem crazy, but oh well. That's fine. I miss her, and I miss that time. That's the biggest part I miss about my childhood. Seeing her happy with a tomato in her hand, and a big straw hat on sunny days, yelling at my dad to calm the fuck down. Nicest woman in the world. Loved you with all her heart. She'd help you with her last dollar if you were in need. But she wouldn't take shit. When my dad tried to bully control of the conversation, she took him down a peg everytime. And because everyone, him included, respected her, she could do it at any time. The strongest person in the room doesn't need to yell. They can control an entire room with a whisper. Make you shut up, just so you can hear them by quieting the room, and making you follow their lead. Yelling just proves you have no control of any situation. Gram taught me that everytime my dad would yell, and she would calm him down to a whisper without so much as raising her tone. THAT'S what being a strong person is. Being kind by nature, but tough by force.
What a fantastic story! I could feel the warm sun, and taste the fresh vegetables. It really brought a smile to my face. I remember growing up in the late 80's and my parents had an old man neighbor with a garden. He used to give tomatoes to me and my siblings and we would sit on the back steps with a salt shaker and just shake some salt on them and eat them like they were apples. They were delicious! For years I have wondered if my memory was serving me wrong, or if tomatoes have just gotten flavorless over the years. I'm happy to hear it's not just me.