Every time I eat some of these I think about two guys. My father and the times he would buy bags of peanuts when we went to see a baseball game. I remember being worried about where to put the shells, and he told me not to worry, just to leave them on the ground under the seat, that it was ok to do. I remember as a kid thinking this was almost criminal!
The other guy was Jimmy Carter who had a peanut farm in little Plains, Georgia, and that was the extent of his wealth, and I remember how much the Republicans at the time made of his owning a peanut farm while he was President, OH MY!, making him disassociate himself from any of the small profits that might come from it while he was president. That was it — that was this humble, noble guy’s only so-called potential conflict of interest. How quaint and absurd does this sound today when we just got done with the king of the grifters who had all kinds of hotels, resorts, shakedowns of foreign interests, and countless other extremely shady under the table sources of cash. But times were simpler and more honest then.