Friday, July 29, 2005
I've never had a JuJuBe, either.
As I was walking back from D'Angelo's, where I ate a Big Papi, I noticed a Chuckles wrapper lying on the sidewalk. I realized that, in all my 28 block-rocking years, I've never eaten even a single Chuckle. I'm not even sure exactly what they are; some sort of gumdrop thing, right? But it got me thinking about all the other major namebrand candies, and how I've never tasted many of them. Never has a Whatchamacalit crossed these lips, nor a Skor, 100 Grand, or Fifth Avenue. I've never gnawed on a Charleston Chew, or bitten into a Mars Bar. I've taken only single bites of Mounds and Almond Joy, and hated both. I didn't even like Butterfingers until the last five years or so. I don't eat candy much anymore (I prefer baked goods), but when I was a kid I downed enough to carry me through the length of my life. I was meek, though, timid, and hardly ever experimented. I stuck to the same three or four staples, entering only the occasional dalliance with a Milky Way or Snickers. SweeTarts, Caramel Creams, and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups were my main gig. I had a brief flirtation with Chunkys when I was six, and you could never go wrong with a Hershey's bar, but for the most part I stuck to those three. There was one other that I loved, and although Crews will totally have my back on this, most people I've met despise this candy with the hatred of a thousand Dixiecrats. It doesn't bug me, though, because I know that, despite the critics and naysayers, the Zero bar is one of the finest sweets in the land. That delectable white chocolate, beefily packed with the thickest nougat and chewiest caramel, still thrills me. Shaw's "Little White House" in Dalton kept Zero bars in their vending machines, and that is easily the only benefit in working for that horrible company. What an underappreciated gem of a treat!
As I was walking back from D'Angelo's, where I ate a Big Papi, I noticed a Chuckles wrapper lying on the sidewalk. I realized that, in all my 28 block-rocking years, I've never eaten even a single Chuckle. I'm not even sure exactly what they are; some sort of gumdrop thing, right? But it got me thinking about all the other major namebrand candies, and how I've never tasted many of them. Never has a Whatchamacalit crossed these lips, nor a Skor, 100 Grand, or Fifth Avenue. I've never gnawed on a Charleston Chew, or bitten into a Mars Bar. I've taken only single bites of Mounds and Almond Joy, and hated both. I didn't even like Butterfingers until the last five years or so. I don't eat candy much anymore (I prefer baked goods), but when I was a kid I downed enough to carry me through the length of my life. I was meek, though, timid, and hardly ever experimented. I stuck to the same three or four staples, entering only the occasional dalliance with a Milky Way or Snickers. SweeTarts, Caramel Creams, and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups were my main gig. I had a brief flirtation with Chunkys when I was six, and you could never go wrong with a Hershey's bar, but for the most part I stuck to those three. There was one other that I loved, and although Crews will totally have my back on this, most people I've met despise this candy with the hatred of a thousand Dixiecrats. It doesn't bug me, though, because I know that, despite the critics and naysayers, the Zero bar is one of the finest sweets in the land. That delectable white chocolate, beefily packed with the thickest nougat and chewiest caramel, still thrills me. Shaw's "Little White House" in Dalton kept Zero bars in their vending machines, and that is easily the only benefit in working for that horrible company. What an underappreciated gem of a treat!
