Return of the Topic of Pop-Tarts: Part Two

 Continued from part one.

  First, the market has moved, but keeps up the appearance that it is the same. Parents don’t want to feed their kids this crap any more, well at least the parents that truly love their children. A long pause as I look, thoroughly unimpressed, knowingly and directly into the camera of the mind’s eye. Do you hear a piano? I continue. It is the schmos that are keeping this party going. People whose parents didn’t love them enough to feed them Pillsbury Toaster Strudels. People who don’t love themselves enough to feed themselves Pillsbury Toaster Strudels. People with doe eyed memories of eating pop-tarts in the past who are about to find out that the pavement, of the road, to nostalgia is sometimes broken and covered in ash and blood. Oh my god, are those, dead bodies in the smoke filled distance?

  Second, the temperature of consumption has drifted over the last fifty years. Nobody has thirty minutes to put into preparing a pop-tart. Broken down it is one minute for the locating of the pop-tart, opening of the sack, and placing those tasty bastards in the toaster. Two minutes for toasting. The remaining twenty-seven are left for the cooling down to a temperature that is safe for human consumption. If one does have thirty minutes, I am sure they can spend it preparing something better. Seriously, watch a half-hour cooking show!

  Lastly, for those people that are going to nosh some pop-tart goodness at any time of day beside your manufacturer’s suggested time, why not throw that demographic a bone. How about a line of brunch pop-tarts or beer sponging late night pop-tarts. What about pizza, bacon, or Doritos! Why not a cheese covered and gravy filled poutine pop-tart for us Canadians. While you’re at it, why not add that chemical that warms up when you shake it, get rid of the toaster all together. People can warm it up precisely to their liking. Put a pin in it.

  Let’s stand that last paragraph on its head and get an organic line going. “Same great taste, less interpreted by the Food Babe as toxic waste!” Whole grains, scratch that, ancient grains and mostly real fruit. I can almost hear the market shifting from here. Carb counters and gluten free enthusiasts are already starting to line up at Whole Foods. Impatiently flinging their kale smoothies upon the glass doors. “These spelt and beet pop-tarts are like, really really so good for you, because they are like organic. They help with muscle recovery and this is my recovery day. I bought them instead of vaccinating my children.”

  See Kellogg’s there is a whole new generation of people who don’t love their children. It is all right there and ready for the taking. Eat a bowl of Frosted Flakes and do what Tony the Tiger would do. No, I don’t mean break out of Toon Town and dominate hungry children upon the playing field. I mean “Get out there and fuckin’ do it!” or whatever his catch phrase is.

 

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Return of the Topic of Pop-Tarts: Part One

  I had a fellow blogger comment on a previous post about pop-tarts. This blogger said, “One should always eat a Pop-tart cold. They’re just better that way!” A sentiment I wholeheartedly agree with Austin on. I remember as a child having a few pop-tarts in the morning. In hindsight they were  usually the precursor to a terrible day to follow. As a child of pleasantly plump proportions, I really enjoyed eating. I was not a fan of the hot pop-tart mostly because the last thing I would be able taste for the next two days was the boringly sweet bread and a split second of metallic tasting white hot fruit flavored fury.

  The other day my wife mentioned that she always thought of pop-tarts as a snackfood, but they were marketed as breakfast fare. Another sentiment I wholeheartedly agree with. Apparently pop-tarts were invented in a time when kids didn’t have time to eat breakfast and parents didn’t have time to dump some sugar coated flakes and milk in a bowl between swigs of whiskey and puffs of smoke. That has been Kellogg’s marketing plan the entire time, it hasn’t changed in fifty years. Now, that I am a mostly sentient adult, I have cast off Kellogg’s recommendations. I eat pop-tarts at the temperature I want, when I want. I am certain I am not alone on this.

  Come on over here Kellogg’s. Let me dump some knowledge on you. A gesture of my hand conjures a bear rug covered room. Next, to the roaring fire are two squishy broken-in high backed chairs and their matching ottomans. The scent of mahogany has worked its way into everything. I hear your bones crack and creak as you settle in to your chair of choice. When was the last time you sat down? Too much Frosted Flakes will make you pace. No one can keep up with Tony. Now, on with the knowledge!

(To be concluded.)