Love my Good & Plenty!

Posted on March 6, 2009 by Cindy

So, it started off innocently enough. I had asked one of the guys I work with about a delivery and he said, “Ask Charlie.” So, after I did, I went back to this other guy and here’s the rest of our conversation.

I began, “Charlie said.” And then, I was suddenly struck with a candy commercial memory. So, I sang, “Charlie said, love my Good & Plenty. Charlie said, really rings my bell. Charlie said, love my Good & Plenty. Don’t know any other candy that I love so well.”

Him: “What?”

Me: “Good & Plenties.” And then he gives me that I dunno what yer talking about look.

Me: “You don’t remember Good & Plenty?”

Him: “No”

Me: “The little pink and white licorice candies sorta oblong shaped, came in a little purplish rectangle box?”

Him: “No.”

Me: “And in the commercial, the little animated guy – Choo Choo Charlie – wore a train engineer’s cap, rode up and down the hills in his little train and sang the Good & Plenty theme song.”

Him: “Nope. Well, maybe I remember the candies, used to get them at the theater, I think, but no, I don’t remember nuthin’ about your Choo Choo Charlie fellow.”

Strange, I thought, that someone ten years older than me doesn’t remember this commercial. So, since I love the internet, I looked it up.

And, to my delight, I discovered a few semi-interesting facts. Did you know that Good & Plenty was first produced in 1893 by Quaker City Confectionary Company in Philadelphia and is considered the oldest branded candy in the US? And, did you know that, although it had several owners during the 1900s, Good & Plenty was bought by Hershey Foods in 2008! (Hey, you never know, it could be a Jeopardy question one day.)

I love Good & Plenty! Wanna see the commercial? I found it on You Tube!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ExSlyoVTX3I

Anyway, it got me to thinking about other old time candies I use to love as a kid.

Does anyone remember those candy cigarettes that if you blew on them, some white powder would come out that was suppose to look like smoke?

How about Boyer Mallo Cups and Boyer Smoothies. “Boy, oh Boy oh, Boyer Smoothie.” Yeah, I vaguely remember a song associated with that one, too! Did you know that the Boyer Company in Altoona, PA was the first to create a candy in a cup shape like that? Yep, it predates Reeses Peanut Butter Cups! Do you remember the cardboard play money included that you could collect and redeem from their prize catalog?

How about Black Jack, Beemans and Clove gum?

Do you remember Ice Cubes? God, I loved those, too. A chunk of chocolate that melted like an ice cube in your mouth!

Necco wafers!

Some of these items are no longer available everywhere. I had a Mallo Cup about a year and half ago when I was visiting sister peep, Bonnie. She had one on her kitchen counter to greet me when I arrived! And, it was probably the first one I had in over 20 years. You just can’t find them in the south.

You can find lots of this “candy we grew up on” on the internet. You can place an order from the comfort of your desk and get it shipped right to your door.

Somehow, though, it’s a lot more fun, stumbling upon a candy memory by accident, when you least expect it. A candy surprise!

You know, I think I’m going to try to stumble upon a Boyer Smoothie on my next trip to Pennsylvania!

Please tell me I’m not the only one that remembers the Choo Choo Charlie song.

And, what other candies did we love when we were little kids?

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Towanda!

Posted on February 16, 2009 by Cindy

I read an article about Michelle Pfeifer the other day in which she says turning 50 has been liberating. I thought, “Huh? Liberating? Don’t think so. Who is she kidding? Aging sucks!”

And then, after chewing on it a bit, I thought, ”Well, yeah, okay, maybe.” So, I looked up ‘liberate’ in the dictionary to see how it might pertain to me. For purposes of turning 50, liberating means:

To free from social or economic constraints or discrimination.

Let me see how I might apply this definition to my life.

At work, I’m no longer trying to climb the corporate ladder. I don’t bring work home or even think about it after I leave the office for the day. I no longer dress to impress or attend after work functions that don’t appeal to me. I am not into office gossip. I am no longer affected by the office bully, brown-noser or back stabber. The office bully can’t get to me or get a reaction from me, because since I no longer care about getting ahead, I’m not even on his radar and he spends his time bullying others. This same concept is true for the brown-noser and back stabber at work, too. They spend so much time and effort being petty, that they’re not doing their jobs, which seems pretty stupid to me.

Life is different at home, too. One huge difference is that there are no children living in the house anymore, which means there’s no diapers to change, school activities to get to and from, no fractions, multiplication tables or algebra to help with and no teenage dramas. Whether you miss having your children at home or not, there is no denying that empty-nesters have much more freedom to do what they want when they want.

And then there’s hubby. After this many years of marriage, we both know our roles in the household. There’s no arguments as to who should do what or who contributes more or who works harder. We both know it was me. We know what we want and both do our parts to make it happen. Oh, sometimes one of us fails at it. But, we’ve learned that even that is not a big deal in the scheme of life. No melodrama, no nagging over the little stuff. And, on the rare occasion there is a disagreement (argument), neither one of us frets or loses any sleep over it, because we know that at the end of the day, we’re still together and moving forward.

On the social front, one thing I know is different; I don’t take crap from people anymore. See, I no longer care if everyone (even complete strangers) likes me, or thinks I’m cute, or funny. That is truly liberating. (Remember Kathy Bates in the parking lot scene in Fried Green Tomatoes?) Towanda!

I believe that with age comes wisdom and with wisdom comes maturity. I have experienced enough in life to know what matters and what doesn’t. Little things that used to bother me when I was young, no longer matter. I’ve learned to choose my battles wisely. That’s liberating!

There’s a lot to be said about turning 50, but sadly, most of it deals with the frustrations of aging. So, Michelle Pfeifer, if you are reading this article (dont laugh, it could happen), ”Thanks.”

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The Party Line

Posted on February 4, 2009 by Cindy

Back in the ’60s when we were young kids, most families shared a phone line with another household. In our case, it was with an old widowed woman who lived down the road.

There were seven people in our household and we had one non-mobile phone located in the livingroom. It was difficult enough to get a turn to use the phone at my house with that many people living there, but what made it worse was sharing our line with the widowed woman. You see, if she was using her telephone, we couldn’t use ours.

Don’t ask me how this modern marvel of technology worked – both households had separate phone numbers, but both her phone number and our phone number shared a line. Get it?

If old lady battle-axe was using her telephone, and someone from my family, say me, picked up the receiver to make a call while she was using her phone, I did not get a dialtone, but rather could hear her long boring conversation about whatever ailment was ailing her at the time and about all the ailments of whoever she was talking to, too. It was way too much personal information for a public telephone line, in my opinion, not that I was listening.

And, of course, we would have to wait until she finished before we could use the phone. Sometimes, while one of us was having a conversation with one of our friends, we could hear her pick up her phone and after a minute or two or three, put it back in its cradle, occasionally rather loudly. Usually after one or two pickups, she would interrupt our call to say, “Get off the phone, I have an important call to make.” Well, she did that all the time, and as typical children, we ignored her.

Our shared party line existence got ugly. That old woman would wait until we got home home from school, when we would naturally want to use the phone to call the friends we had just been with all day, to use it herself and tie up the line. Sometimes, we would pick up the receiver and hear her in her kitchen preparing her dinner or in her living room watching her television, talking to no one on the phone, but keeping it off the hook so we couldn’t use it, keeping it available for her own use.

Looking back now, I think she must have hated sharing a phone line with us. From her perspective, I bet she thought we were rude little hellions. She’d have been right, I suppose.

You know what else I’m thinking? That this was my life just a mere 40 years ago. Ancient, depending on your perspective.

We’ve come a long way, baby.

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