Writings

In 1993, DC Comics printed a comic book in which Superman died. I waited over two hours to buy it.

It takes a lot for a grown man to admit that he gave Superman that much credibility in his life. I’ll never admit to something like that again. In fact, someone could say, “Keith, remember when you wore Superman Underoos to 3rd Grade because you thought they would help you beat up Gary the bully?”

and I would reply, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, crazy lady…and by the way no, I would not like to give to the alumni fund.”

The fact is, I’ll never forget when Superman died because he wasn’t supposed to. How could the Man of Steel die???  He was indestructible, vulnerable only to kryptonite and probably mad cow disease had he lived to see it. But it happened, and we were all in shock.

I never thought I would feel that way again. That I would be in disbelief that something immortal could fall, but here I am bewildered that something even more eternal than Superman has indeed fallen.

That’s right. I’m talking about Twinkies….Gone to the dustbin of history, presumably to disrupt its bowels.

Some have asked me why I’m even upset. After all, I’m not a junk-food fan by any stretch. That doesn’t mean I can’t respect Twinkies and their resilience. I was never really fond of oddballs who babble incoherently either, but I have to admire how durable Ozzy Osbourne is.

In fact, I always thought that after the Apocalypse, the only thing left in America would be Ozzy sitting on a pile of rubble sharing a box of wine and a tray of Twinkies with Betty White.

Anyway…how could they be gone? I’m fairly certain Twinkies are made with formaldehyde and a special dye found only in Roswell.

Well truthfully, they themselves didn’t die. But their parent company did. As you know, Hostess Brand went belly up, which is really the only way to land after eight decades of making compounds your chemistry teacher could never explain.

I know Hostess was just a company run by mortals. But…you would think that if it were so hard for something to naturally deconstruct, whoever made it would live on as well. Like the Alamo and Texas or Lindsay and Mrs. Lohan. But apparently not. After all, Happy Days did make Joanie Loves Chachi. Pedigree guarantees nothing.

For the record, yes, I have reviewed the stat sheet. Each Twinkie holds 150 calories and there are 800 million produced a year. I admit…given those numbers, it’s hard to say that Twinkies added any true value to our lives. 120 billion calories a year is enough to make you think that maybe the oceans are rising because our land is sinking.

But you have to admit, they were iconic. President Clinton put them in the millennium time capsule, for crying out loud…possibly the only time that a president proved to care about saving for the future.

Hollywood gave Twinkies cameo appearances in Die Hard, Ghostbusters, and Zombieland.

Terrorists, ghosts, and zombies couldn’t kill them. Carnival concessionaires went so far as to deep fry them…and they always survived. Until now.

So…I will remove my hat, offer up my respects, and hope that someone will come to the rescue and resurrect Hostess Brand. I may or may not put on Superman Underoos when I do that.

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