“Leave It to Beaver” — Some old timers out there (and a few new classic TV fans) will recognize this oft-referred family sitcom that ran from 1957 to 1963. It comes to mind today as real-life beavers had a part in guiding success in the environment and, in a roundabout way, with agriculture.
But like so many opening teasers in my musings, I digress.
When traveling for work over the past couple of decades, I paid recurring calls on produce distributors when marketing Idaho potatoes. It amazed me that I was able to procure these meetings — some as often as a couple of times per year — to talk about the crop, sizing, quality, distribute materials, host training talks, that sort of thing.
But two, sometimes three visits a year? It wasn’t like I was handing out Disneyland tickets, and it sure wasn’t my boyish charms or rugged good looks that opened doors. Certainly, we covered recent happenings in our corner of the fresh produce world, and over time the rapport was just good relationships.
One angle I found helpful in starting a meeting was to talk about things that were, well, nonproduce. You know, referring to my prior notes and asking about the customer’s general interests: sports, food, business happenings, how their family was doing. It’s small talk for sure, but it was always genuine, and this helped ease tensions (no shortage of that in the produce industry) and served as natural channel to the meeting talking points.
I have learned one thing about meetings: Keep it short. As in, the three B’s — be brief, be concise and be out of there before I wore out my welcome.
So, when the Idaho Potato Commission came out with socks imprinted with parachuting beavers as a giveaway premium (Socks are popular. Who knew?), it piqued my interest.
“The Beaver Drop,” as it was called, was an action taken in 1948 by the Idaho Department of Fish and Game. It seems that in the 1800s, beavers were trapped to near extinction. The result of this overhunting caused increased erosion, flooding and other negative water impact on the state. Beavers were needed to restore the delicate environmental balance.
The problem with relocating remaining lowland beavers to desirable higher elevations was that cold water-loving beavers couldn’t survive the harsh overland transport. So, the idea was hatched to parachute these natural dam builders instead.
The fish and game department used surplus World War II parachutes and dropped 76 beavers successfully (and gently) into the mountainous Chamberlain Basin in central Idaho. It was economical, humane and it worked. Over time, the beavers did what beavers do with restoring the wetlands and water quality, and the legacy continues today with the proliferating wetland control specialists.
What does all of this have to do with the fresh produce industry? Well, um, not much.
But it makes for a good story, doesn’t it? Most produce people I spoke to in my last couple of years on the road found it so interesting that they all wanted a pair of the commemorative parachuting “beaver reference socks” from their Idaho Potato Commission representative to wear and talk about in their Monday morning produce meetings.
It gives you an idea how enthralling those meetings must be that a simple beaver story helps, you know, wake some people up.
Here’s a link to a dated, yet fun YouTube video on the subject:
Armand Lobato’s more than 50 years of experience in the produce business span a range of foodservice and retail positions. He has written a weekly retail column for two decades.
