When Great-Grandpa Harold told me that eating the whole apple to the core and even past it, seeds and all, would make me live forever, I believed him. He was living proof, after all. He died at 101 when I was 10 — the closest thing to forever that I could imagine. Harold told me four basic truths back then. The other three were: chocolate is great but sex is better; your girl is always the prettiest; Miles Davis’ Sketches of Spain will change your life.
My sister and I grew up eating our apples all the way down, seeds and all. She even ate the stems, thought Great-Grandpa Harold would think that especially good. She died last year at age 38. I’m still getting over it, and I admit that I’ve been bitter. But lately my girl and I sit on the porch at night, listening to Miles Davis, and I think that Harold was right about most everything. I still eat my apples past the core, seeds and all, ‘cause I don’t like to think of Harold as a liar. And besides, three out of four ain’t bad.