Pumpkin, Ad Nauseam

 

    The marketing arrival of autumn (just after back to school sales have faltered and discounting the mega-marts that skip the Halloween season in favor of Christmas revenue generation starting in August) has arrived. In its wake is an artificial flavoring ubiquitous to every coffee shop, grocery store, and candle aisle. Yes, it is the orange-hued shrine to the almighty dollar pumpkin. But not just any pumpkin—oh no. We’re talking about the saccharine, artificial, pumpkin-flavored impostor that has hijacked our beloved season. Welcome to the era of “Pumpkin, Ad Nauseam.”

    Once upon a time, autumn was about more than just this squashy invasion. It was a season of nostalgia, of gathering around the bonfire, of carving jack-o'-lanterns with giddy anticipation, and of course, the thrill of Halloween. The real spirit of fall was in the stories we told, the costumes we wore, and the sense of wonder and mischief. Somewhere along the line, things went awry.

    It probably started innocuously enough—maybe with a simple pumpkin pie or a classic pumpkin ale. Harmless, really. But then, the marketers saw an opportunity, and like a ravenous horde of ghouls, they descended upon it. They churned out pumpkin-flavored lattes, pumpkin-spiced muffins, pumpkin-scented candles, and even pumpkin-flavored dog treats. And that was just the beginning.

    Before we knew it, the pumpkin spice juggernaut had overtaken everything. Pancakes, pasta sauces, cereals, chewing gum—nothing was safe from this orange menace. And let’s not forget the countless pumpkin-themed products that have absolutely no business being associated with pumpkins. Pumpkin spice deodorant. How about pumpkin-flavored toothpaste? It’s as if autumn itself has been swallowed whole by this corporate concoction.

    But what really grinds my gears is how this faux-pumpkin frenzy mocks the true sentiment of the season. Autumn is not a flavor; it’s a feeling. It’s that quiet melancholy as the days grow shorter, the thrill of seeing the first Halloween decorations appear in the neighborhood, the warmth of a cozy sweater, and the chill that runs down your spine when you watch a good horror movie on a chilly October night. It’s the time of year when the veil between worlds grows thin, and we revel in the mystery and magic of it all.

    And yet, here we are, drowning in a sea of insincere pumpkin-flavored everything, all while the true spirit of fall gets diluted in artificial sweeteners and syrupy lattes. It’s as if the essence of the season has been bottled, spiced, and mass-produced to the point of absurdity. The autumn we once cherished has been transformed into a kitschy, over-commercialized parody of itself, where the smell of fake pumpkins permeates every corner of our lives.

    So, here’s to the real autumn—the one that exists beyond the pumpkin-flavored mania. Remember the traditions that make this season special, the stories that give it depth, and the simple joys that can’t be captured in a flavor. Because when it comes to fall, I’ll take a walk in a leaf-strewn forest or a night by the fire over a pumpkin-flavored monstrosity any day. Don’t get me wrong, though. I’ll take a pumpkin spiced latte if you’re buying.