Lockport Union-Sun & Journal — Perhaps all that Mayan-calendar hullabaloo — about the December 21 end-of-the-world (as we know it) scenario — has some merit to it, after all. Have you heard the tragic news? Twinkies – that fine concoction of edible, fun-loving, life-threatening fluff — will soon be as extinct as the nickel candy bar. Alas, poor Yorick … and me, too.
Believe it or not, I can remember when and where I was when I first tasted this delectable treat. My brother, Tim, and I were with a friend of ours by the name of Mike Roach; Mike was amazed that my twin and I – at the ripe old age of 10 — had never heard of, let alone eaten, Twinkies.
He (our friend) proceeded to take some empty soft-drink bottles (that’s what we called them in northern NY) into Al Russell’s corner grocery store for the cash deposit; he forked back 20 cents of the loot and purchased two packages of these succulent treats for the three of us to share. Truly, a savory revelation. (Extraneous information provided solely for the purpose of credibility.)
But the taste-sensation was … oh-h-h my … excuse me while I enjoy the flashback. I’ve been hooked on this hippie-staple ever since that life-changing moment. It was an epiphany of major culinary delight.
Speaking of credibility ... moments after I wrote the above paragraphs, my daughter and two grandchildren came bursting in. As God is my witness, she came through the door carrying two plastic bags full of Hostess products.
“Did you know they are going to quit making Twinkies?” she said, incredulous at the thought of a Twinkie-less world. She was only a half-a-click less flabbergasted than I was at her timing.
“Wow! This is unbelievable!” I stammered. “I’m writing about that very topic right now.”
“Yeah, great, whatever.”
I had the distinct feeling she was as interested in what I was telling her as she was in going over the Falls in a five-gallon milk bucket. Her mind was still grieving the loss of that frosting-free, odd-shaped cupcake.
“Melissa,” I said, “I’m serious, read this!”
After she read what I’d written, she looked up and said with all the sincerity of her once-teenage years, “Yeah, great, whatever.” (Sound familiar?)
That’s my baby girl — I can always count on her consistency. I love her for her frank honesty. (Sarcasm is the way society rolls now.) I, also, have a special place in my heart for anyone who brings me a bag (or two) of Hostess Twinkies.
But apparently, the earth-shattering coincidence — to which I pointed out — didn’t rock her world as much as I thought it would. So be it.
Back to the column – where was I? I’m pretty sure I was going in a certain direction with this article before I lost my train of thought, before I completely forgot what I was going to say.
But ...ah-h-h ... hey, have you seen the commercial for that knife sharpener? (I haven’t got all day to try to right this ship so we’ll go with this knife thing.) A company is hawking their product with the usual caveat — near the end of the ad — where they say “And if you act now, we’ll add...” more stuff. This knife-sharpener’s bonus was that they were going to throw in a handful of knives.
The thing is: this is the same company that had featured these identical knives in commercials several years ago. What bothers me is that when they pitched these things back then, the huge push was centered around the fact that these knives never needed sharpening. (In case you forgot, Carl the mechanic/fisherman: they are now being shipped with a knife sharpener.)
Cue Melissa: “Yeah, great, whatever.”
And that’s the way it looks from the Valley.Tom Valley is a Medina resident. His column appears every Thursday. Contact him at firstname.lastname@example.org.