Sebastopol planted the seeds of self-promotion last year by hiring a Tennessee consulting firm for $48,000 to create a new city logo. Now we have fruit.

As unveiled in last week's Sonoma West, the new pictorial symbol for Sebastopol is a hybrid geo-apple. Planet earth has been transmogrified into the shape of an apple, complete with a stem sticking out at the North Pole. You can't see the South Pole, but presumably it would be covered with those leafy flecks that you find at the bottom of an apple and that are so annoying to get in your mouth when you take too big a bite.

It's unclear whether the Sebastopol geo-apple represents a world that has shrunk to the size of an apple, or a planet-sized apple that has somehow incorporated the entire world. Either way, it's weird science. Think Burbank Experimental Farm plus Monsanto g.m.o. project run amok plus the outtakes from James and the Giant Peach.

Context and subtext save the day, or in this case the world, as below the geo-apple the word “SEBASTOPOL” boldly appears in all capital letters, followed by the city's new message expressing, if you will, its core beliefs: “Local Flavor. Global Vision.”

As clever as these semiotics may be, they celebrate a Sebastopol that receded into history sometime in the last century. Let's face it. The “local flavor” supplied by Sebastopol's once abundant apple crop dried up probably around the same time as the Army Corps of Engineers drained the Laguna. That was long before my time, but I feel nostalgia for it nonetheless.

We haven't yet reached Orange County conditions, where the last orange grove was plowed under to make room for Toontown, but our apple orchards now exist mainly in our rich municipal fantasy life. A sober assessment of our urban landscape should tell us that our apple trees have been irrevocably lost to more lucrative grape plantings. To put it bluntly, we sold out our apple community years ago, and may have sold our soul in the process. But, of course, no one wants to hear that, and in any case sober assessments are hard to come by when there's so much fine wine on hand from all those grapes.

As for “global vision,” the phrase conjures up images of a travel agency offering window seats on a trip to self-importance. Sorry to be so harsh, but what, exactly, do we see around the world that others don't? Maybe we should lighten up on our enlightenment.

Don't get me wrong. I love Sebastopol as much as the next guy. I support the nuclear-free zone, my family has hosted visitors from our sister cities in Japan and the Ukraine, and we even drive a Prius. But I draw the line at international insight, which I don't pretend to have. I have a hard enough time just ordering off the menu at the International House of Pancakes.

If truth in advertising is the goal, I think a more accurate message could be achieved by changing the logo's word sequence to read “Local Vision. Global Flavor.” That would disclose our narcissistic tendencies while still promoting our fine restaurants featuring exotic cuisine from around the world.

Having said all the foregoing, due credit should be given to everyone who worked on the new logo. It isn't easy synthesizing rampant civic self-esteem into a single symbol. Nor should we forget that the geo-apple is vastly more charming than our previous city symbol, which vaguely resembled a swastika hidden insidiously in a sinister Rorschach ink blot test.

Now, at least, we can salute ourselves without worrying about the subliminal meaning.