In a true testimony of how the human brain works, my mind wandered by the cage housing that pre-Crack, crack-addict Tony the Tiger this morning.
Tony the Tiger - just in case you have been under a rock for sixty years - is the grand-daddy of cereal mascots and more specifically he has been 'pushing' these sugar bombs on an unsuspecting public for the past three generations. Millions of cavities and cases of juvenile diabetes later, Tony the Tiger stepped out of his cage and onto this page today, and in so doing reminded me: You can't always get what you want.
Perhaps it was the Rolling Stones (or George Michael) who sung it best, but it was a photo posted by a friend on Facebook today of IHOP's infamous Strawberry Banana pancakes that reminded me of a more innocent time and the assertion that I should be able to eat Kellogs Frosted Flakes for all my main meals and as a snack in between.
Thankfully, the monotony that accompanies repetition kicked in long before a sugar induced coma or infantile obesity and I was spared from the Tiger's claws - then! And the adjunct to the main lesson was then made clear: You should never always get what you want.
And so it is that I suppose that fate has once again saved me the ignomious distinction of being the fattest man alive by placing the nearest IHOP at least 1,628 miles away. But I get ahead of myself. This blog was really meant as a reminder that sometimes 'sugar' can make you do the most fucked up things. And here we can readily replace 'sugar' with anything else that is self serving, self-indulgent and utterly addictive.
In my life, I have eaten my way to the bottom of a large box of cereal, collected the baseball cards that were to be found there, snuck out of the house, cheated, lied, willfully inflicted hurt (on myself and on others) and even paid too much just to have a taste. Without ever once having an accusatory finger pointed at me. Never admitting to myself that I am an addict. Addicted to the pleasures that I have stumbled upon on this side of what is legislated and morally (for the most part) acceptable.
And though I could look back at my charmed life and down at a body (and mind) that has been (relatively) unscathed I've never been more than a few steps ahead of that Tiger's claws.
And although initially I have been a victim of suave merchandizing, slick advertising, and the sated mumblings of the addicts before me, one thing remains true: its always been about the sugar. And it will always continue to be about the sugar.
Word to the wise: Stay away from the sugar!
Stay Away from the sugar
My bleary eyes stir
restless circles into my bowl
of stale cornflakes,
grown soggy
with tears of frustration
and resentment.
And the somber epiphany
That the Tiger
has had me like a spoon by the tail
Long before
The soured milk
had been poured.
I am drowning;
a tea bag hung perilously above
The waves and the outstretched lips and teeth
put away: Blowing softly
Over the decades
and raging seas.
Over the sound of
My own shill voice
Calling out from the inside of the big blue box,
Screaming,
‘Fuck You Tony the Tiger!’
‘You’re not so Grrrrrreeeaaaaat after all!’
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