Allow me to derail. First, funny ass photo (pun, yes pun! ) Second, I can’t see the word Persimmon without thinking of my childhood. Growing up on a farm in the 70s there were few fun things to keep a kid occupied, so we did what we had to do to avoid the typical shenanigans of youth. One of those pastimes involved persimmons and reeds (small bamboo). We’d cut one about the thickness of a number 2 pencil and about 3 ft long, sharpen the end and spear a persimmon. Then with a skilled throw/flick of the wrist, well it’s amazing how far a 5 year old could launch a green persimmon. Oh the simple joys of life.