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The Sweet Life By Kenan Bresnan Email: kreasan at mchsi dot com (above email address formatted to reduce spam) June 12, 2008 I find it amazing that one can look back at one's life and find all kinds of things that bring back memories and elicit warm feelings. When walking through our local drug store last week, I stopped and took a good look at the candy selection. I was amazed at how many candies were some part of my life's vivid memories. My earliest, fondest memory of the Hershey's bar is that it was my introduction into the life styles of the rich and famous. When my family moved to 906 W Hill in Champaign from our first house in that town, Halloween was not far around the corner. When that glorious feast day came, I believe that my brother and I took to the streets trick-or-treating together. I must have been in about fourth grade. We made the normal amount of house calls for children of that age, about 200. All but one contributed to the normal collection of small pieces of candy and occasional popcorn balls from the homes of health professors at the university and a toothbrush from some dentist (we avoided that house in future years.) But one stop stood out in our minds above all. The house on the corner of Prospect and Church Street was a fairly large, ivy-covered brick one. We had never seen any children playing in the yard so our hopes weren't that great. But as we were using the General Sherman's "scorch and burn" philosophy of trick or treating we knocked on the door anyway. A very pleasant lady came to the door and gave each one of us a FULL SIZE REAL Hershey's Candy bar. Oh boy, those suckers retailed for a nickel apiece. We had hit the mother load. Had we called on Royalty? We bet the Queen of England didn't give out anything better than this. Life was good. "Good & Plenty", "Dots" and "Juicy Fruits" to this day bring back memories of the Saturday afternoon movies of my youth. It was probably in the days when I had a paper route and was flush with cash for Saturday afternoon recreation. I was never much of a popcorn guy in those days. Candy was king and they were my three favorites. In fact, if I have my hands on a box of any of those candies today, I am quickly transformed to a young boy of yesteryear waiting for the lights to dim, the newsreels to roll, Roadrunner to outwit Wylie. E. Coyote and Hop Along Cassidy to save the west from the nefarious villains wearing black hats. The Heath bar was not a favorite. I only ate those if they showed up in a trick-or-treat bag or I pulled the wrong lever at a candy machine. I always thought of them as a piece of slate with a thin coating of poor quality chocolate. I remember them as being hard on one's teeth. I was trying to hide my chocolate ways from the dentist, so the thought of wrestling with a Health Bar that might actually break one of my teeth was too risky for me. The candy bar with the great name of "Chunky" got me through high school and college. They came as two big squares of chocolate with raisins and nuts in a shiny wrapper. Each square broke into four separate sections, each of which could be consumed in one bite. It provided me with enough energy to tackle algebra and puberty. Snickers to me, has been the one candy bar that has there for me off and on for my whole life. It has never been my top choice or my "in" candy bar, but it has always been there for me when I was tired of my favorites or during those times when my taste buds were transitioning from one number one to the next. I still prefer the original size. Convenience stores today seem to want to push a monster one on you. But I am willing to admit from day one, that the candy company created Snickers perfect. Oh yes, on a hot day, when driving across Iowa, I might get one of the frozen snicker ice cream treats out of the convenience store freezer, but that is rare. The original Snickers is the one for me. It is comfort; it is connection with all life. It is I think, the official candy bar of heaven. Hanging around the candy counters next to Snickers for years has been the Milky Way bar. I have had a few, but they have never made it to my favorite category. Frankly, it has always been my opinion that they just have too much chocolate and stuff in them. Maybe it comes from my Irish heritage, but I never felt that I was good enough for a Milky Way. I didn't deserve all that chocolate and richness. Now that I think of it, I think that the only time that I ate any of them was around Easter when all is forgiven and God loves us all. There was a famous advertising campaign for Lay's potato chips once upon a time that used the phrase "I'll bet that you can't eat just one." With Lay's chips that was never a problem for me. But I think that slogan should have been used for those darling little Hershey's Kisses. One never feels like that are putting on any calories when they eat them because they spend so much of their energy trying to unwrap the darn things. Ah, but once you have all the little flecks of tin foil removed, and you place the kiss on the center of your tongue and gently bring down the roof of your mouth so it caresses the top of the swirl allowing two sets of taste buds to send chocolate waves to the brain at the same time, one is almost transported to the afterlife. One never pushes up with the tongue or down with the roof of the mouth. One just lets it sit there and dissolve. No one has ever declared war, gotten a divorce, shot anyone, argued with their neighbor or cursed while absorbing a Hershey's kiss. I was "Mr. Cool" a few times when I was young. I was every private dick that I saw on TV. I was as brave as John Wayne and as mean as Liberty Valence. All thanks to that wonderful invention, Candy Cigarettes. I believe that they came 10 to a box and almost every kid bought them. This is probably the only candy that I can think have that consumption was not the primary purpose of purchasing them. That candy existed so that you, at any age, could be any adult that you wanted to be. By seven years old we had all mastered that elegant right handed V cigarette hold that was formed by having the index finger and the one next to it ramrod straight so that the cigarette rested elegantly right above the first knuckle of each hand. When we had those cigarettes just hanging from the corners of our mouths, we were every tough guy that we ever saw on TV. We all mastered the thumb and two finger curl hold that could quickly invert in to a flick if your battalion was called up and your smoke break was over. We were cool. That is with the cigarettes anyway. I do remember a bubble gum cigar, but it was pink and John Wayne wouldn't have been caught dead with anything pink. Once I had received my baccalaureate degree and was no longer a child, I put away the things of a child. Real adulthood brought me a 40 year affair with the Nestle's Crunch bar. It had the perfect amount of nuts and chocolate to give me what I needed to work a full time job, maintain a marriage and raise four children. Everything about it from its dashing blue and white wrapper to it rectangular shape and it innate thinness said "adult." I see no reason why this gift from God won't carry me through my retirement years and up to the moment that I either die or loose my teeth. M&M's were in a league by themselves. Eleven months a year one would buy them in their little brown envelopes and munch them down pretty much one at a time. With the various colors, in my opinion, all tasting the same. But December was different. December brought out the red and green M&M's, which I though had a slightly better taste. And these did not need to be purchased. My parents along with all other parents would just have bowls full of these set around their living rooms. It was totally acceptable to scoop up a major handful and consume them at your leisure. If you went back for a second or third handful no one said anything. If the bowl became empty, mothers would just go the kitchen and pull out these monster bags of them and refill the bowls and set them out again. I do believe I discovered the chocolate headache around Christmas each year. The Whitman Sampler and the various assortments from Fannie May take me right back to Christmas and home and hearth. My father use to get my mother a big box of one or the other each Christmas. She would open it and then pass it around. We could each take one. Basically I remember it as a crap shoot. Sometimes there were names of the different candies on a grid on the inside of the cover, but most of the time you had to guess what you were picking by the color and shape of the candy. I think my life time Batting average is about 145 in the selection department. I always had a tendency to find the raspberry flavored chocolate covered apricot pit. But it was Christmas and Mother loved it. But the most special candy in my life again focuses on Christmas and family memories. My Grandmother in her apartment in Boston had what was called a gum drop tree. This was a foot tall plastic tree whose branches where slightly sharpened so that each could hold a gumdrop. There were red ones, white ones, orange one, purple ones, black one and, my favorite, the green ones. One never had many of those each visit, but we sure looked forward to it each year. My folks continued the tradition and I can thankfully say that we have followed in their foot steps and have one set up in our house every holiday season. Candy has been one of those blessings of life that I have always enjoyed. And if nothing else, when all the children are raised, all the chores are done, when the wars are over and the bills are paid, one can just relax and realize that it really is a sweet life. About the author: I am a professional salesman with four grown children who enjoys writing stories. Originally my stories were inspired by my children growing up, but then they did and moved away. Often my inspiration comes from my wife, but daily life always seems to present new ideas and concepts | | | |
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