For Christmas, I was the recipient of a pineapple planter. It is a decorative ceramic piece--all white--which looks like the round part of a pineapple with an open top for whatever plant you choose to add, and a drainage hole in the bottom. It is lovely. For many years and for various reasons, I have collected pineapples. Initially I was intrigued when I learned the fruits took center stage as Christmas decorations for the American colonies, earning them the title of “The Colonial Symbol of Hospitality.” But I liked them, too, because my college roommate was from a small town in Alabama called, of course, Pine Apple: population 132. I have fond memories of this town which is now only a small collection of charming houses. Gone is the school, and the general store, and the bank. But the two-block main street still intrigues me, bearing a name that belongs in Hawaii.