Fable of the Grapes and the Fox

By Marlin Eller

Once upon a time there was a ripe bunch of grapes hanging high up on the vine. They were quite purple, full of juice and rather assured of their succulence. They talked among themselves and craved the opportunity to catch some wayward eye and to be plucked in passionate frenzy and to be heartily devoured. And the thought of pleasing some passing pallet swoll them with pride, plump and purple. They were ripe and they knew it.

Suddenly a fox appeared at the foot of the vine and a hush fell over the grapes. This might be it!! Suck in that gut. Chests out. Good posture. I think he's looking this way. Oh God, He's seen us!

The fox leaped up and snapped at the grapes but fell short with his jaws clamping shut on the hollow air. The grapes were momentarily shocked at this setback but rapidly recovered and cheered him on. Again and again the fox leaped and fell short and again and again the grapes offered words of encouragement and beckoned to the fox. However the frustrated fox finally gave up, swore at the grapes, "You sour sons of bitches, I hope you rot on the vine," and stalked away looking for a rabbit.

The grapes were stunned. "We're ripe! You cocksucker! We're not sour!" but the seeds of doubt had been planted and the grapes started to accuse one another of being insufficiently ripe our being slightly misshapen and they fell to quarreling and bickering. No longer did they take pride in themselves and decay set in. The realization that they were indeed sour only made them bitter and in their depression most of them turned to alcohol.