Stupid Candy Purchases

..Went to the “Big City” today to see a movie, and I dropped into the bulk candy store on the way.

(Laugh if you will, but we dont’ have such a store in Splat Creek.   Where I live, it’s a big deal to go to these places).

Especially if you can get stupid candy like this:

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Citrus-like Fruit Slices

Individually wrapped, no less.

I love how they try to make these (sorta) look like slices of an actual orange.  (Gee, Ma, I ate my fruit already, can I have my candy now?)

I’ve put these in order, from left to right, in decreasing order of realism.

If you squint real hard and use your imagination, at least the first two can almost pass for an orange and a lime.     But what about the others?

(I mean, WTF is with the red-white-blue one supposed to be?… Patriotic Citrus for Team USA?)

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Reindeer Candy Corn

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As if regular candy “corn” wasn’t already artificial enough, they came up with THIS abomination.

Okay…to be fair, I can honestly say it tastes (no better/no worse) than the fluorescent-orange/yellow kind.

Though I suspect no actual reindeers would go within 50 feet of these radioactive pellets.

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Candy Blocks

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Ah, nothing like sugar, dye and ascorbic acid press-fitted into rock-hard impregnable cubes.

But actually, these work surprisingly well:   they interlock and you can build with them, just like real plastic thing.

And they’re just about as  edible, too (especially if  you’re interested in cracking your enamel.)

I like them, though.

It brings me back to my early childhood/toddler days.

When I used to suck on my Legos…

Pop-Philosophy from the Toy Store

Life is like wood-burning set:  you only have one chance to make a lasting first impression.

Life is like a yo-yo.  It has its ups and downs, but you have to accept it, because it’s all part of the game.   For brief moments, you can allow yourself to stay put and rest.  But you can only do this for so long, at the risk of just stagnating and losing all your momentum.

Life is like an Etch-a-Sketch.  It takes a lot of patience and discipline to create something out of nothing.  But we shouldn’t be too arrogant or proud, because our materialistic accomplishments on this planet are of a fleeting nature… All it takes is one small disturbance to shake things up a bit, and we could lose everything we’ve worked so hard to attain.  But on the bright side, we always have the opportunity to begin anew, and start with a clean slate.

Life is like a Slinky.   A boring, mundane task like going down the stairs can suddenly be transformed into a dance of whimsical delight.    It reminds us to stop taking things for granted:  there is magic and wonder in everything that surrounds us.

Life is like a Barrel of Monkeys.    Together, we can co-operate with our fellow brothers, and join together to meet a common goal.    But remember,  we are only as strong as our weakest link.

Life is like Jenga.   We like things to be stable.  We like structure.   But if we keep removing the building blocks that represent the foundation of our values and beliefs, sooner or later, our Tower of Expectations will come crashing down.

Life is like an Easy-Bake oven.   With just something as simple and mundane as a light bulb, it literally becomes child’s play to create culinary delights that some adults can only dream about.   It just goes to show you that with the right approach, even the most complex tasks are not all that difficult.

Life is like a Kenner’s SSP Smash-up Derby Set.    Whenever you least expect it,  events beyond your control might collide with you, and you’ll feel smashed to pieces.    But it’s not the end of the world.    You just have to pick yourself up, put yourself back together, and start all over again.

Life is like Twister.   You tie yourself up in knots,  pushing your own comfort level to put yourself into unnatural positions.   But sooner or later, you’ll have to resort to going back to who you are, and accepting it.  What comes up, must come down.

Life is like Lego.   The sum of the whole is greater than that of the individual parts. The important thing is to avoid having pre-conceived notions about who should belong with what group.  Regardless of where we came from or what color we are, we are basically all the same family, and we can work together to create something beautiful.   We are all inter-connected:  each individual contributes in their own small way to the big picture.

My Most Memorable Christmas Presents: The Best and The Worst.

Worst:   Pajamas
When I was three, my Grandma made me some pajamas.

Needless to say, I was NOT impressed.   You know how three-year-old boys are:  they just want Toys!  Toys!  Toys!

It’s a bit vague for me to recall exactly what happened (perhaps Mom can remind me of the details).   But I remember I threw a major conniption-fit (and probably hurt my Grandma’s feelings in the process).

Even though this was forty years ago, I still feel bad about how I acted.  (But what can you say?  Toddlers can be little shits at times!)

This was Christmas Eve.   I recall going to bed naked, refusing to wear the pajamas.     And when I woke up,  I was furious to find that someone had put them on me while I slept.

Maybe Santa had done it, to prove a point.

Best:  Lego Train Set

Our family didn’t have much money when I was young.   We weren’t poor….we kids still had toys.   Just that we didn’t often get expensive toys.

But when I was in Grade 2, I was totally blown away Christmas morning when I found a Lego Train Set under the tree.    It included the tracks, locomotive, passenger car, box car and caboose.     And (be still my beating heart!) a battery-powered MOTOR!    Holy crap…the train actually worked!

Todays’ kids would say “Big Deal”.  But keep in mind, this was 1971, long before video games or home computers existed.   This train set was STATE-OF-THE-ART.   And Lego wasn’t cheap, either.   Even back then.  This was above and beyond what I ever would have expected.

Not only that, but it pretty much quadrupled my entire Lego inventory in one shot.    I spent entire summers playing with that Lego with my friends,  well into my teens.    And I still have much of that train set left (among the bits and pieces with the rest of my Lego collection) .

Best:  Matchbox Racing Car Transporter

This was in ’66 or ’67, pre-dating Hotwheels.   I was two or three.    Matchbox cars were all the rage.   I wanted a King-Size Matchbox Racing Car Transporter.    I had seen it in the Matchbox Catalog   This was basically a large green Matchbox toy, big enough to transport two other smaller racing cars.

This was a modest gift.   By todays’ standards, it’d be the equivalent of a $20.  But at that point in my life, that’s all I wanted, more than anything in the whole world.

Well, I GOT the truck.  And I was thrilled.    And it was big and green (my favorite color), just like in the catalog.   I played with it for years and years, again, into my teen years.     I still have the Racing Car Transporter.   The paint’s chipped, the plastic windows are half-broken, but it still works.   And I wont’ ever get rid of it.

Worst:  Sticks and Stones

One Christmas, I think we kids musta been bad.    We were probably acting up more than usual that year.  Because we got STICKS and STONES for Christmas.  I was about ten.

Needless to say, my sister and I were quite pissed off.   My brother (who was around 5) didn’t’ seem to mind…he said he’d use the sticks to ”fight the lions and tigers”.  (Or so was his story at the time).

(Now, don’t worry…we still got our REAL gifts that year).   Just that our folks made sure we got the Sticks and Stones too….to send a message.   To let us know we had been acting like little demon-spawn, but they were still magnanimous to give us our nice gifts, in spite of this.

I don’t know…did this traumatize me for life?    Probably not.   I’m a reasonably happy productive adult, and I didn’t turn out to be an axe murderer.   Not yet.

Best:   A Ski Vacation in Alberta

The one indulgence my parents did for themselves every year was to take one week off  and go skiing out West, just the two of them.   They’d been doing this since we were infants.

It was just something Mom and Dad did. And there was an unwritten rule that ski trips were just for the parents, no kids allowed.

But it was a good break for them.   (And for US, too!)   Because Grandma and Grandpa babysat us, and we got spoiled rotten while the folks were away.

Years later, when we were older, one Christmas morning  Mom and Dad announced that this year, we’d ALL be going on a ski trip together.

I couldn’t’ believe it…I had seen photos of the Canadian Rockies, and I had always wanted to go.   But I didn’t’ think we’d ever in a million years be able to afford to take the whole family.   At first I didn’t’ believe Mom and Dad.  And when I found out they weren’t’ kidding,  I was almost ready to cry with joy.

It was March when we did the actual trip.   I was sixteen, it was my first “big” ski hill, and it was everything I ever dreamed it would be.   And I’ve been coming back to the Rockies ever since.

Worst (and funniest):  Cologne

I didn’t actually get the Cologne….it was my brother in his early teen years. He got a big bottle of Polo the week before Christmas from a relative (who shall remain nameless).

Now, if there is ANYTHING a 14-year-old DOESN’T have any use for, is a bottle of Cologne.   Especially a smart-ass Spalpeen like my brother.     I remember him shaking his head, incredulously, and wondering what to do with his gift.

But between me studying Chemical Engineering at the time, and my brother and I feeding off each other, we came up with an EXCELLENT use for it.  You see, cologne has alcohol.  So when you spray it to a lighted match….well, you get the idea….(Kids, DON’T TRY this at home!).

Suffice to say, Spalpeen and I emptied most of the bottle, making one fire-ball after another  in the garage.  Though it never occurred to us that perhaps all that vaporized musk might cause OTHER things to smell.   Especially the Christmas Tree which Dad had just bought and had been storing in the garage, right next to us.

And what a beautiful tree it was. Dad always took his Christmas trees selection VERY seriously.   He’d spend a long time picking out the perfect one.   And that year, he had bought an especially expensive Balsam Fir, which he had been looking forward to decorating.   He wanted the house to smell like fresh pine needles.

Anyway, a few days later, long after my brother and I had forgotten about our pyromaniac escapades, Dad brought the tree into the house, and bellowed:

“Jesus Christ!    WHY does the tree STINK like perfume!?”.

For a second, Spalpeen and I looked at each other.  (Uh-ohhhh!).

Then (Pffft!), we both burst out laughing.

Poor Dad.  He was ready to burst a blood vessel.

We tried to say “Sorry…”

But we weren’t.   Not really.