Heirloom versus hybrid. Nature versus nurture. Vinyl versus download. Edward versus Jacob.

And it can get confusing, especially for a new gardener, whose only exposure to the word “hybrid” thus far is shortly followed by the words “save the planet, buy now, zero percent interest financing available”.  Hybrid is best, right?

And here is where the debate rages. It is a healthcare debate in a two party garden system. Which is better, hybrid vegetables or heirloom vegetables?  And before you assume I am firmly on one side or the other, I will let you know that I am not.

First, let’s define the issue.

Hybrid vegetables are generally regarded as newer varieties that were bred specifically for mass consumption and for certain mass interest traits. Things like disease resistance, superior production and even an inability to reproduce can be bred into hybrid varieties.

Heirloom varieties are generally over 100 years old and have been bred for local cultivation. They are often bred for color, flavor, size and local weather condition resilience.

So which is better?  Just like your religious affiliation or favorite color, it is really, really a personal decision.

I personally do grow mostly heirlooms, but I normally throw a few hybrids in there as a failsafe.  As mentioned, hybrids are bred to survive and heirlooms are bred to please.  Give me a good heirloom tomato any day, but I have to say that I do look with some longing across the fence at my firmly hybrid growing neighbor’s garden every summer and envy her superior production. In my mind, heirloom versus hybrid is more of a quality versus quantity issue. Both have merit.

Yes, hybrids have squeezed out the heirloom varieties in terms of what people produce. In their corner, hybrids have a multi-million dollar industry lobbying for it while heirlooms are a grass roots effort. Industrial production stomping firmly on the old ways.

But, you also have to consider that there is a survival of the fittest factor going on here.  No matter how you cut it, for your average home gardener, hybrids just perform better.

I think that we as gardeners need to find a balance. Make space in the garden to save history while still enjoying modern advancements. Think of it as playing Mozart on your iPod.  The two can coexist.

Where else would these people have gained all of their wisdom and insight but in a garden? Ok, so there is books, life experience and just plain old genius, but beyond that, where else but a garden?

I am reminded of this when pulling quackgrass.  Yes, that insidious, nightmarish weed that can take over a flower bed faster than Tiger Woods can move through a sorority. That quackgrass. There is a Tao in quackgrass. And here you thought it was just a weed.

Just a weed! I shout from my quackgrass infested flower bed. This is a lesson. It is an opportunity to learn a great secret that my garden wants to whisper to me but can only speak in botanical octaves.  My garden, she speaks to me in weed (not the kind you smoke, though the enlightenment can sometimes seem to be the same).

On hands and knees with fingers reaching, I find the blades of quackgrass and revel in the wisdom.

Lesson number One – All quackgrass is connected. Looking at a large bed of it, you would not think so and pull at a blade quickly, and they do not seem connected at all.  But it is. Deep and low, the roots bedevil through the soil, leaving new quackgrass in its wake.

Lesson Number Two – Impatience is quackgrass’ friend. Ripping quickly and angrily at quackgrass will not make it go away. As a matter of fact, it will only bring you sorrow – in the form of more quackgrass.  The best approach to quackgrass is a slow, steady pressure starting at the base of the grass. One that will reveal to us the root of the quackgrass and show us how it is connected to the others in the flower bed (see lesson number one).

Lesson Number Three – Conquering your quackgrass requires focus and persistence. Quackgrass cannot be eliminated simply by randomly pulling blades. Nor can you pull only a few blades of quack grass at a time. You must be determined. You must be methodical. Pull (slowly – see lesson number two) search pull search pull. One square foot at a time until it has been eliminated from your life.

Lesson Number Four  – Quackgrass will come back. No matter how often and well you deal with your quackgrass, it will come back. It is not a reflection on how well you as a gardener dealt with it the first time, it is simply a fact of life (see lesson number three).  Consider it a reminder of the Tao of quackgrass.

It appears that this article has touched off a bit of a discussion on Cold Climate Gardening about blogging, gardening and generational clashes. Kathy Purdy asked:

I’d especially like to know what would make blogging more appealing to older gardeners. (Older meaning old enough to be my parent, and I’m almost fifty.) They have a wealth of experience to share, but are the least likely to share it online.

Then, in response, Katie at Garden Punks

Why aren’t people in younger generations interested in gardening?!

I mention both of these comments because I think they are related, mostly in that I think there is a lot of misconception about them.

In response to Kathy’s question, many people replied that old people simply are not online. Having managed a site for a company that is targeted to senior citizens, I know for a fact that this is not the case. Senior citizens are the rapidly growing group online. So they are on the computer, they just choose not to blog. That doesn’t actually answer Kathy’s question, but it at least eliminates the most common answer.

In response to Katie’s question. I think younger generations do garden. I do see it. I know plenty of young people (25 – 35)who keep a vegetable garden or at least a few plants for pleasure. No, they are not as deeply involved in it as I am, they can’t go on and on for hours about it like I can, but they do enjoy plants and the act of growing something. They garden, as far as I am concerned.

There are many young (under 35) people who grow things and demure from calling themselves gardeners because they either feel they don’t have the right to or don’t want to be associated with the title.  Which worries me, because that means they consider gardening on the same level as stamp collecting or… air sickness bags collecting. That is a problem.

I find that I run into this attitude from a lot more people than my mother-in-law. There are many people who believe that favoring a plant or inconveniencing yourself in your home for a plant is somehow unnatural. It is just a plant.

I can’t name the number times I have heard that phrase. It normally used right after someone has wreaked havoc on a garden bed or has caused the untimely death of a beloved potted plant. It is also delivered as a muttered, under the breath retort to me as I shriek at the culprit. It is only a plant. Just a plant. What is the big deal?

My husband use to mutter those lines as well… until one day our mentally deficient cat leapt onto the shelf where he keeps his painted miniature collection. Gosh, do you know what 100+ hours of work and 50 or so miniatures look like when they fall to the ground? It looks amazingly like a flower bed that has been careless trampled by someone painting the house. He understood from that day forward and the cat surreptitiously got a can of tuna that night.

A gardener’s plants are more than just green oxygen machines. They are the investment of our time. Our time is a measured part of our life force. With every passing minute, we are one minute closer to death, so for every minute we spend doing something, such as nurturing a plant, we transfer the value of those minutes to the object of our attention during that time.

I am not simply rearranging my home to accommodate my plants. I am accommodating little pieces of my life. And, just for the record, I think I am perfectly justified in threatening to take a pair of pruning shears to anyone who messes with little pieces of my life. And for the winter, 3 rather tall pieces of my life will be occupying the kitchen and there is nothing at all unusual about this.

• Why #1 – Instant gratification. You spend 20 minutes cooking and you can have a decadent meal that impresses as well as satisfies. You spend 20 minutes gardening and you have a patch of dirt and the neighbors wonder if you are installing a mudpit for a pet pig.In the TV world, they can make a beautiful garden appear in 20 minutes. But they very rarely do. Yeah, so you can’t make it happen in real life, but most people can’t make the things they see on cooking shows either.
• Why #2 – Gardening shows don’t get Gen X. I remember cooking shows as a child. They were ghastly boring (no offense Julia Child). Guess what, gardening shows are ghastly boring – present tense. Cooking show got revamped so that trendy Gen X’ers would gobble them up while eating their Chinese take out. It just so happens that the rest of the generational masses thought we had pretty good taste.

The wise (and elderly) television executives think that *BAM* throwing a handsome hunk of meat on the screen will fix falling ratings. While overt sexuality is included in the new breed of cooking shows, it takes more than that.

While watching Alton Brown, it occurred to me that the only gardening show that has survived the ratings fallout of gardening shows in the past few years is “Gardening By The Yard”. I think the two shows have a lot in common, much to do with appealing to Gen X.

First, both are packed with knowledge. You don’t just get how to cook and garden, but the whys, whens and whos as well. Gen X’ers had parents who carefully explained every thing to us no matter how many times we asked why.  The doctors said it would fuel our curiosity and so it has.  We don’t buy “Because I said so”. 

Second, both shows have truly entertaining host. They seem to be average people talking about things they are passionate about. I would not expect to go to Alton Brown’s house and be served a meal that would win the world’s greatest prize (as a matter of fact, I watched him accidentally coat the stage at the Fabulous Food Show with taffy when the recipe fell apart). Don’t get me wrong.  It would be good, just not so good that it was intimidating. Paul James makes you feel comfortable, too. Like you can relate.

Gen X’ers never learned to respect our superiors.  We don’t call our bosses “Mr.”  We think of ourselves as equals and we want to feel like equals.  Friends, even.  One wiff of “you are better than me” and we lose interest.  Many of the good cooking shows, the hosts are just a little self mocking.  Like you might be among friends. Gardening shows very rarely do that.

I think what is killing gardening shows is their tendency to talk down. To educate without entertaining. Come on TV execs. I learned my ABC’s from Big Bird and manners from Mr. Rogers. I was weened on entertaining education. I think the generation behind me had TV screens installed in the womb, so this is just the begining. Don’t just teach me and talk to me like you are the boring teacher from 9th grade. Make me laugh. Make it fun.  Be my friend.  (Yes, we think of the TV as our friend, ok)

Gardening should be fun but most of the time… on the TV… it just looks like work.  Who wants to watch that?