Set aside at least
a half hour an hour for this great read at The California Sunday Magazine, A Kingdom From Dust by Mark Arax.
This reminds me of someone…
No other farmer, not even Gallo, had cornered a market the way Resnick had cornered the growing, buying, processing, and selling of pistachios. He had his hands on 65 percent of the nation’s crop. One of the first things he did with his monopoly was kill the California Pistachio Commission, the industry’s marketing group, by yanking his funding. He and Lynda wanted to run their own ads for their own brand. The independent growers and processors, no surprise, regarded him as a bully eager to employ teams of lawyers and tens of millions of dollars to force his agenda. A member of the commission, on the eve of its demise, told me, “Stewart wants to be a benevolent dictator. But if he thinks you’re defying him, he’ll start with, ‘Nobody realizes the good I’ve done for agriculture.’ Then he moves on to, ‘Do you know who I am? Do you know what I am? I’m a billionaire.’ He’s got an awful temper he’s trying to control through Kabbalah. That little red string is supposed to remind him to count to ten. But his ego — there’s no controlling that.”
This makes me worry about the sustainability of the farms they run.
“What’s it been like here during the drought?”
“Drought, no drought, makes no difference. The aqueduct was built with tax money, yes? The aqueduct brings the water, yes? So everybody should have it, right? But this is water for Mr. Resnick. Not the people. When it doesn’t come, he finds a way to make it come.” He spits tobacco juice into the empty can of Rockstar. “The checks the workers bring in here from Mr. Resnick are the same checks they bring in for years. I cash them the same. Nothing changes. Big fish eat the small fish here. Anything else I can help you with?”