29/01/2023
Sometimes I sneak a little treat after I've met the morning's health goals. Sunday is a great day for treat sneaking.
The sky is mixed with slow-falling, nearly invisible flakes — but when you look hard enough, there's plenty to see. It's blistering cold outside. Cold enough to keep me bundled in blankets with a book in my hand and an occasional momentary snooze between the pages. Poor Nelly will miss her hike today, but I haven't told her that yet. I think keeping her sidetracked with homemade chicken noodle soup in the (very) slow cooker will pass the time well enough.
I appreciate that I'm healthy overall, but it wasn't without its battles. For several years now, I've taken care to eat the right amounts of protein, moderate carbs, and some fat. Especially butter — which I appreciate on most things, and I justify it by pretending I "feel" the K2 vitamin load entering my system with each melted slog of it. But I don't care too much. I don't actually measure, though I said the "right amount" earlier. I just do what feels good and recognize when it feels terrible, so I avoid that (or try, fingers crossed).
But the treat I mentioned earlier had a strange side effect. I had a couple of dark chocolate-covered almonds, then a swig of diet coke. (I know. Don't remind me. It's a treat). The combination immediately brought back memories of that candy — do you remember it? "Bottle Caps," I think it was called. A chalky, small, rounded, tart-like candy that looked like the top of a glass soda pop bottle.
It flooded my head with this entirely long and strange stream of consciousness. I won't go into the entire trip, but I pictured a boardroom of mad men trying to figure out how to create a desire for soda at an early age.
At the time, it was heavenly to sneak off to the gas station on the other side of the neighborhood and buy a packet of Bottle Caps (and candy ci******es, and those popping candies - what were they called again? Oh! Pop Rocks! That's the one). I liked 7-Up or A&W Rootbeer (because it had that frosty mug taste — and I liked holding the can as they did in the ads — as if I were holding a frosty mug of beer).
The choices of sugar were immense back then. More so today, I suspect, for kids. I think commercialism will change in the future, though. I think the days in the height of collecting just to collect may be over, and people are sick from so much sugar. I don't see another avenue, to be honest. Besides, our Earth cannot afford to continue down this path. We can temper our greed if we find something else to obsess over. I really believe that (and have one solution, but it's part of a book I'm writing, so I won't share it here). However, I guarantee a fight with anyone who wants things to remain the same forever. Sure, I'd love that, too, if we had unlimited resources and a planetary dumping ground system that didn't involve the Earth and its affected creatures.
But this wasn't meant to be a reminder of troubled times ahead. Really... just a memory of the flavor (in particular, the cola flavor) of those Bottle Caps. I think kids back then would be healthier today if we weren't so spoiled for choice. I wonder why sugar and kids go together so seamlessly. I imagine it being like Santa Claus. Here, kids, are your introductions to a very complex world. Let's introduce you slowly so you're unaware of the reality too soon. Well... that and a processed food addiction that guarantees corporate food innovation for generations to come. Delicious.
I'd kind of like a pack of them now.