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Have you heard or read the word truculent used as a gardening reference? Garden Rant is often, by its nature, argumentative. They don’t call it Garden Rant for nothing. I don’t think any of us are cruel with our rants, but we are not afraid of taking a stand, either. Are any of us bad tempered? My Garden Rant partner, Anne Wareham, wrote the book on this. The Bad Tempered Gardener is informative, often contrarian, and thoroughly enjoyable. Anne, as most of our readers know, doesn’t pull punches. I recommend the book.  Read the review. Order the book from your independent bookstore or online.

Truculent defined (take your pick): unpleasant, argumentative, grumpy, defiant, obstinate, or hell on wheels.

Example: ever known a teenager?

Or hard to handle, cruel, fierce or ferocious. Stay away from people, or weather conditions, like this.

Or bad tempered. Anne Wareham is not so bad tempered. Really.

The recently departed Bob Uecker could be argumentative. He couldn’t hit a baseball, but he knew what truculent meant (sort of). And Uecker kept an imaginary garden. While his professional baseball career was undistinguished, he later became a renowned broadcaster who entertained Milwaukee Brewers listeners for 54 years. Uecker, with his great wit, was
“uniquely funny” and made over 40 appearances as a regular guest on the Johnny Carson Show.

Adam Rogan wrote a sweet and funny remembrance of “Mr. Baseball” in the Milwaukee Magazine called: Bob Uecker in Three Small Moments.

The Brewers have never been heavyweights in professional baseball. Uecker had to fill a lot of deadtime on the air during long, boring stretches of the game. So one season he talked about what was growing in his garden. He killed time with carrots, eggplants, and pumpkins.

Uecker’s garden was make believe.

“It became clear to the households and workplaces that listened to every game,” according to Rogan, “that the man clearly had never put a trowel in soil… Because each game there’d be a new plant, a new vegetable or fruit that he was planting or harvesting. It could be July and he’s harvesting sweet potatoes (which are usually harvested in fall), or he’d be planting some corn in October …it didn’t really make sense… The man didn’t care. He just talked. He filled the void for us. Uecker was what radio has been for generations, and what podcasts are now: he was a good friend in the ear, talking about nothing, and laughing the whole time.”

Bob Uecker the etymologist

Al Michaels, the veteran sports broadcaster, told a funny story about “Mr. Baseball.” Michaels was in the booth calling a game with the lovable, call-it-the-way-he-sees-it Uecker and the long-winded Howard Cosell, who was not the equal to Michaels, or Uecker, when it came to baseball knowledge. Cosell, suggested the game’s batter at the plate should make a bunt. A bunt is a clever play, but Uecker thought, on this occasion, that it was ill-timed. Cosell got upset and said, “Okay, Ukey, I get your point. You don’t have to be so truculent. You do know what truculent means, don’t you?” Uecker took a breath and replied, “Of course, Howard. If you had a truck and I borrowed it, it would be a truck you lent.”

The middle finger

I wish I had channeled Bob Uecker a few weeks ago. He seemed like a chill guy.

I flipped off someone in traffic.

It had been years since I had a head on with road rage.

The roads around our Louisville home, had been icy for weeks and fuses everywhere were short.

One road was narrow, but passable.

Rose proceeded slowly.

We had no idea the approaching driver would be spoiling for a fight (truculent). As the cars approached our  hell-on-wheels (truculent) warrior waved her middle finger at us, and mouthed off angrily and inaudibly as the two cars passed one another. I am not a lip reader, but I got the gist.

Rose returned the favor.

You can guess whose side I was on.

I flipped my finger ferociously and cruelly (with truculence).

During check-in at the beginning of our next Zhineng Qigong meditation group, I made my confession. Everyone laughed.

We all have a flash point.

Calm down, Allen

During the turbulent late 1960s and early 1970s, groups like the Weather Underground, the Ku Klux Klan and W.I.T.C.H. (Women’s International Terrorist Conspiracy from Hell) were a few of the groups on the FBI’s watchlist. I don’t shy away from peaceful gatherings, but it’s wise to steer clear of danger. “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.” (Luke: 6.27-28).

There’s another option.

Rick Bubenhofer, a longtime friend, and I tried to set an example in the early 1970s. We founded the Fraidy Cats Club. We were never spoiling for a fight, and we weren’t on anyone’s watch list— that I know of—but nobody messed with us. They couldn’t catch us. We ran as fast as we could at the first flicker of a predicament at protests, college parties, or baseball games.

The new garden season

My Fraidy Cats card is still in my wallet. Though I am slower, I won’t back down to truculent plants.

There are two disagreeable plant types: villainous invasives like bush honeysuckle, Bradford pear, privet, and wintercreeper that I battle in guerilla skirmishes; and then there are disagreeable and nearly impossible-to-grow garden plants that I pamper and kill.

Germinating seeds is not the problem, but I don’t live with the same warm days and cool nights as Great Britain, the Pacific Northwest, or a Himalayan mountainside. It’s not naivete. I like a challenge, but I cannot grow colorful lewisias in the rock garden, towering delphiniums in the border, or a dreamy blue poppy to save my hide.

Truculent garden headwinds come with the territory.

In Kentucky’s summer heat, my summer casserole is only baked well done.

I am cooking up other menu options for the coming season.

Dream on.

 

Truculent gardening and make believe  originally appeared on GardenRant on February 12, 2025.

The post Truculent gardening and make believe  appeared first on GardenRant.

* This article was originally published here

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