Seeing Yellow

What do you see when you look at a lawn full of dandelions?  Driving past bright-speckled lawns on my way to work got me thinking about how Americans, divided by so much, are probably also split by their reactions to these vivid yellow flowers popping up hither and yon.  Here are some ponderings on the human reaction to Taraxacum officinale. 

Kids tend to like dandelions, and I can see why.  The mini-yellow suns are undeniably cheerful, and blowing on the seedheads is a delightful way to celebrate spring.

Beekeepers vote “yes” to dandelions because they supply honeybees with an early cache of pollen and nectar.  Although foreign, dandelions can benefit many types of pollinators and tend not to push out native plants as much as establish themselves in landscapes already disturbed by human activity.

Dandelions have long been used a diuretic, which has earned the species the unflattering names “wet-the-bed” and “pissy beds.”  Warts, asthma, low blood pressure, poor circulation, ulcers, constipation and colds have all been treated with dandelions at some time and place in history, so just about all of us might want to show them a little love for their service to humanity.

Nutritionists know that young dandelion leaves are full of vitamins, including A, C and E, as well as antioxidants.  Epicureans make a coffee substitute from the roots and create salads with the leaves.  When I bought my old house, a bottle marked “Dandelion Wine, 1972” was found in the basement.  Unfortunately, the contents looked far too questionable to taste, but I like to think of it as a leftover from the “Flower Power” generation. 

Home sellers might find dandelions distasteful.  To some, plants other than grass in a lawn indicate a slackening of standards, sloth and laziness.  If my neighbor has dandelions, is anyone going to want to buy my home?  Others worry about the spread of depravity, and the puffball of dandelion seeds is seen as a precursor to the spread of problems, perhaps even those beyond weeds.  In poking around the comments section of some websites, I’ve discovered that having a dandelion-free lawn is more important in some neighborhoods than waving hello.  Weed-less-ness is also a symbol of spending power.  There tend to be fewer dandelions in neighborhoods with greater discretionary income, since getting rid of dandelions is costly, whether you do-it-yourself or hire-it-out.  Spending money indicates wealth, and those with wealth are seen as good and worthwhile, especially in today’s U.S.A.           

Big chemical companies love dandelions, since they’ve used the plant to convince some lawn owners that dandelions are evil and need to be eradicated.  This of course puts more green in Big Chem’s pockets.  It also benefits an entire chain of advertising firms, wholesalers and retailers, and lawn care operators who market, sell, and spray the herbicides.  An interesting exercise for an economist might be tallying up the money involved in killing the cheeky, yet humble, dandelion.

How else do we see you, dandelion?