Letter to Dole

Dear Dole,

I must say I am disappointed.

I used to feel nothing but confidence when eating your fruit products. Now, I am racked with doubt. My faith in you has been shaken to its apple core. What's happened to my adoration of you? Don't play dumb, you know what you did. No? Fine, let me explain.

The other morning, I was devouring one of your prepackaged fruit products for breakfast. I love fruit, and I loved Dole. Your products always tasted fresh and sweet—from your bananas down right down to your tiny, adorable cans of pineapple juice. I mean seriously, how cute are those things? Even without the vodka I put in mine, they taste pretty good. I like your bright packaging, your affordability, and even your logo—"Dole" spelled out with a sunburst coming out of the "o". Simple, cute, organic, and best of all—an American company. One of those precious few American companies I can feel good about buying products from. It's not that I feel American products are superior to imports—I simply like to support American businesses, workers, and prevent unnecessary wasted resources in shipping something that can be made locally.

While eating my Dole "Diced Apples in light syrup" I was reading the packaging. To my horror, I discovered the sad truth to your little fly-by-night operation. "APPLES FROM CHINA" caught my eye first. Then "Packed in Thailand." Followed by "Manufactured by Dole Packaged Foods, LLC. Westlake Village, CA."

Let me see if I understand you Dole—it takes 3 countries to produce diced apples in light syrup? Are Chinese apples somehow superior to those found all across America? Do the Thai people have an unrivaled knack for packing Chinese apples? And then what exactly happens in California if the apples have already been picked, packed, and shipped? What does "manufactured" mean? You pour some sugar water into the container and call it "light syrup" then ship it off to grocery stores? I could understand all this shipping rigamarole if we were talking about a tropical fruit not native to the U.S., but we're talking about apples. I live in Massachusetts—birthplace of Johnny Appleseed. He would roll in his grave if he knew you were importing foreign apples. That is, If he has a grave? He may have been cremated...or killed. How DID Johnny Appleseed die? Oh well, it doesn't matter, in any event I'm sure he'd be furious. Now where was I...? Oh, right, your faulty, underhanded business dealings.

I continued to read the product packaging and saw the green text box containing "For more than 100 years, Dole has been committed to our environment, our employees and the communities in which we operate. To learn how, please visit www.dole.com." And so I did.

Far from redeeming yourselves, you maddened me further. The first attempt to visit dole.com crashed my computer after trying to load your site's layers of php, javascript, actionscript, and who knows what else—perhaps a virus? Some spyware? The second time your website opened only to reveal a crazy-looking, irritating, talking woman holding a colander full of strawberries (no doubt  picked from Abu Dhabi, shipped from Turkey, manufactured in southern California, then shipped by airmail to northern California to your studio) and sipping on a strawberry smoothie (courtesy of Australia). I perused the entirety of your website. You certainly give yourselves a big pat on the back for how environmentally friendly and socially responsible you are. Page after page of praising your renewable farming practices, fair treatment of overseas employees, and giving back to your community. Which community are you giving back to exactly? The community that does the picking, the packing, the purchasing, the shipping, or the manufacturing?

Mayhaps you are the world's best company as your website claims—but you've made me a skeptic. How can I possibly eat the fruit of a company I can't trust? A bitter harvest indeed. There are other fish in sea, Dole. I'm sure Del Monte or Chiquita would be glad to have me. How do you like them apples?