Ding! A piercing sound, commanding immediate attention across a wide span of people: tweens, teens, adults, and oldsters, who obsessively reach for their cell phone to read a text message with varying degrees of intensity and care. No matter where they are, dining in a restaurant, riding in a car, shopping in the mall, or walking down the street. Ding! a launch of instant communication between one or more people, who expect an immediate reply. Often, texters embody the same room, where they can gossip about someone present, within earshot but outside text connection, among the selected clic. And if one does not open the text immediately, the Ding! keeps dinging — Ding! after Ding! until you do. To some, the repeated Ding! is followed by a “damn.”

Ding! A pleasing sound, familiar to my children’s generation. The Ding! usually preceded a musical jingle signaled the arrival of the Mister Softee Ice Cream truck on the street. Children would rush to their parents for a small stipend to purchase a frozen novelty treat as a reward or promise for their good behavior. Often, a parental “damn” followed that Ding! to express displeasure with the alluring pickpocket fleecing the neighborhood. As they grew older, however a Ding! referenced a rejection letter from a failed college application. That Ding! was usually followed by a disappointed “damn,” as well.

Ding! An unmistaken sound In my generation brought about by a careless driver, who opened a door forcefully against your car, resulting in a small dent. Understandably, that Ding! frequently was followed by a “damn,” with strong words not far behind. In addition, a Ding! represent a home run over the fence, which depending on the team, also could be followed by a “damn.”

Ding! A reflective sound in my parents’ generation. Usually, the Ding! was followed by a lower pitched Dong!, as the church bells in the neighborhood rang for the Angelus, a traditional reminder to recite a series of short prayers practiced by churches, convents and monasteries, during the Depression and Word War II. It occurred three times daily at 6:00am (Prime), noon, and 6:00pm (Compline). The Angelus bell comprised three long strokes, Ding! Dong! Ding!, repeated three times, with a pause between each. In addition, a street peddler, who sharpened axes, knives, lawn mower blades, had two bells on his cart, which sounded short Ding! Dong! Ding!, pause, not unlike the Angelus bells. These Dings provided a pleasant back drop for a simpler time when no Ding! was followed by a “damn.”

Ding! My cell phone beckons.

Every state legislature determines official symbols, like the state tree, bird, flower, fruit and vegetable. Where does the tomato stand?

Both Tennessee and Ohio legislated the tomato as its official state fruit. (Tennessee Code, Section 4-1-327; Ohio Revised Code, Section 5.081) Louisiana named the Creole tomato as its official state vegetable plant. (LA Revised Statutes 49:170.11.) New Jersey flirted with designating the tomato as the state vegetable: by the House in 2005 (usatoday.com/news/offbeat/2005-03-08-nj-tomato, denied by the Senate; and by the Senate Bill No 2596 in 2009, which died in committee. To avoid controversy, Arkansas declared the tomato as both its state vegetable and state fruit (Arkansas Code, Section 115). Which states are correct?

Botanically speaking, a fruit is the plant seed-bearing part that develops from its flower; whereas vegetables emanate from all other plant parts, such as roots, leaves and stems. (www.mayoclinic.org/…and…/fruit-vegetable-difference/bgp-20056141.) By that definition, a tomato is a fruit, as well as some other well-known vegetables, like corn, cucumbers, bell peppers, eggplant, green beans, squash, and snap peas, to name a few. What a startling discovery, which may bring a needed change to the traditional dinner table mandate, as: “Eat your fruits!”

Remarkably, this is not a recent issue. In Nix v. Hedden 149 U.S. 304 (1893), the US Supreme Court interpreted the Tariff Act of 1883, which required duties on imported vegetables but not on fruits. Though botanically recognizing the tomato as a fruit, the Court held that Congress intended the “ordinary meaning” of the words fruit and vegetable, noting that consumers identified tomatoes as vegetables. Therefore, under law and common usage, a tomato is a vegetable; but botanically, it is a fruit. Accordingly, to answer the above question, Arkansas is correct.

Rhubarb, on the other hand, is classified botanically as a vegetable, but in modern usage, it is consumed as a fruit, mostly in Rhubarb pies. The rhubarb stalks, remindful of celery, is boiled with sugar as a pie filling. Who knew a rhubarb pie was a vegetable delicacy?

The US Department of Agriculture’s (USDA) familiar Food Guide Pyramid tries to strike a balance by placing fruits and vegetables on the same plateau, but in uneven proportion, favoring daily servings of 3-5 vegetables to 2-4 fruits, while avoiding the common usage/botany distinction.