"Honey, It's Just a Movie"

We got to the movie theater to see Bee Movie early yesterday, just in time for the plethora of commercials that have somehow insidiously slipped into normalcy at movie theaters over the years (I remember maybe fifteen years ago when my husband and I were outraged to see the first commercial at a movie. I said we should protest, boycott, launch a vicious letter-writing campaign, but we did none of that. And here we are. Captive to commercials in a place that used to be blessedly commercial-free). But I digress.

So we got there early and caught a beautifully-produced commercial by Burt's Bees talking about Colony Collapse Syndrome, the plight of the honeybee, and the power of organics to help save the bees. It included a call-to-action to visit www.burtsbees.com for a free packet of seeds. Click on Help the Honeybees on the Burt's Bees site to see the commercial (Burt's Bees calls it a public service announcement, of course) and to sign up for your free packet of wildflower seeds. Raising awareness of Colony Collapse Syndrome this way is a great way to get kids, who are flocking (or, should I say, swarming) to Bee Movie, involved in such an important environmental issue.

However . . . as the movie went on, I felt increasingly uncomfortable. Barry B. Benson, the Seinfeld bee and star of the movie, discovers that humans are "stealing our honey" and sues the human race. He even makes a few comments about how humans are even putting honey in lip balm. No wonder Burt's Bees ran that commercial.

Wow. Didn't expect this, gang. I left the theater with mixed, mixed, mixed feelings.

"It was just a movie," my husband said. "I liked it. The kids liked it. Let it go."

"I didn't expect it to be so accurate," I said. "I expected just a cute little movie, some laughs, perhaps a catchy tune or two."

Accurate? Okay, I don't mean about the talking bees and the fact they drive cars and that the bees with the cool jobs (the Pollen Jocks) are all guys (you do know that all the worker bees are female in reality, yes?) but accurate about industrial beekeeping and the whole honey-stealing thing.

"Do you think, perhaps, that you just feel guilty because you have huge vats of raw honey on our counter?" my husband suggested.

"You, know, you're right," I said. I do feel guilty. I swear by the honey. For allergies. For baking. For lots of reasons.

"Honey, " he said, meaning me, not the glorious golden stuff. "It's just a movie."

So, as for FoodShed Planet Kids this week, check out the video at Burt's Bees. Sign up for the wildflowers. But see the movie with this caveat--you (or your kids) may end up questioning why we steal honey from the bees. And milk from the cows. And eggs from the chickens. And . . .

P.S. While driving home, I said to my husband, "I bet Jerry Seinfeld is vegan." And my little bit of research this morning seems to confirm that he is vegetarian. I need to talk to Jerry, as I near the completion of Month 8 of my little year-as-a-vegetarian experiment. Are you vegan, Jerry? If you do eat eggs, milk and honey, do you feel guilt, too? And how do you come to terms with this?

My current feeling, by the way, regarding the veg thing, is that if I had my own cow and chickens (chickens! I want chickens!) and bee hive or two, I don't think I would have any mixed feelings at all about consuming these animal products. I think it is possible to "skim a bit off the top" without hurting the animals. But I don't have those things. And I do have to rely on commercial supplies, even if it's local farmers I know. And so, therein lies the problem. At least for me.

"Honey, It's Just a Movie"