Day 286
It’s a very sad day here in my household. I just read Alexandra Petri’s blog (www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/compost) and learned that the Hostess company is planning on closing its doors. Who would have thought this day would ever come?
It’s the end of an era. It’s the end of the sponge cake. It’s the end of super whipped up hydrogenated oil … aka. creme filling.
Alas … the end of snack civilization as we have come to know it.
For those of you who don’t know why my heart is broken today it’s simply this … Hostess and I are buds. Truly. We grew up together. Well, I grew up but Hostess was already around for quite some time (coming onto the scene of baked goodies in 1930).
In any case, I spent every lunch period my sophomore year of high school ingesting a package of Hostess Hoho’s. Hoho’s and a carton of whole (probably outdated) lukewarm milk. Yum! Nothing like nutrition at its finest!
My lunch partner, Cathy, could imitate Ann Blyth so well from the Hostess Hoho commercial that to this day (some 40 years later) I still call her by her nickname … Hoho.
And how many of us didn’t love those Snowballs? Well, we loved the chocolate cake insides of the Snowballs – but the gooey, marshmallowy, coconutty outer covering was good for only one thing … flinging across the lunchroom table or sticking on some unsuspecting fellow student.
I can’t remember how many times one of us (high school girls can be so mean!) went over to one of the nerdy guys (who probably all retired before 40 and are right now relaxing on their private islands) and asked some stupid question and while doing so planted a glob of that coconutty gelatinous goo along the back of their shirt … so, when lunchtime was over they’d scurry off to their Advanced Physics class (probably taught in Latin) with this glob of ick hanging off of them and we’d be hysterical on our way to Home Ec.
And then there’s the story about Tim … aka … Twinkie the Kid.
Tim was a freshman on his high school’s varsity track team. Being the only pole vaulter he was immediately put onto the varsity team with all the older guys. Being the peon he was also the “snack boy” and was in charge of collecting their money and going to the grocery store and picking up the snacks for the team.
One such day he was getting the treats and he picked up a package of Twinkies. Being hungry – he ate them, putting the package in the cart so he could pay for it upon checking out. Well, in going around the store, the package fell out. Tim got to the check out stand and there was the manager waving the Twinkie package in his face. Tim told him what happened – offered to pay (what were they at the time 15 cents?) but instead, the manager wanted to teach him a lesson. Nice guy. So, the manager called Tim’s mother … had her come down and pay the enormous monetary amount and get him out of the Dunn’s Shur Save detention cell! News of this quickly spread and forever more Tim was nicknamed Twinkie the Kid by his teammates.
So, sniff … fare thee well, Twinkie!
Stop what you are doing and go out now, while there’s still time, and stock up fellow snack lovers. Get enough so you’ll have plenty of snack cakes and goodies on hand to share with your grandchildren. After all, those things are guaranteed to have a shelf life of at least 20 years!