~Karen Salmansohn
Let me confess: I LOVE Cheetos Brand Cheese Puffs. LOOOOOOVE them. And Let It Be Known That “Love,” in this particular context, like many contexts in which this word is used in America, means “a lusty hankering to an unhealthy degree.” It Should Also Be At Least Noted that the specific “Cheetos Brand Cheese Puffs” so craved are the freakish, glowing, puffy goodness of the Ordained Original, not the wimpy, shriveled, pathetic excuses for a Cheetos labeled “crunchy,” or any of the odd shaped versions. If they don’t look like overstuffed maggots, I don’t want ‘em.
My love for the construction-orange poofy nuggets originated during childhood: my mother, being a member of the Good Housekeeping Generation, was too offended by their in-your-face affront to nature and their exorbitant cost (which was significantly more than the 55 cents a bag of regular chips) to allow them in our house except on special occasions like birthdays and Thanksgiving. During those events I shamelessly stood over the Cheetos bowl like a drunken office worker, preventing others from nearing, nursing every stolen crumb until I my colon could process no more.
For me, nirvana during Seventh grade could best be achieved with a new “Mad” magazine, a sunny spot on the carpet, Elton John on the record player, and a bowl of Cheetos.
Alas, I am a Responsible Adult now. Ergo, these snacks are forbidden in our cupboard but for different reasons than my mother's. It is because they are addicting.
However, the other day I came home to find a bag of day-glo fluffy fingerlings glowing on the counter—the result of excess snackage from a Boys’ Day Out on the lake. In a Blink, I had found a pleasant read, (although in this century it was Dave Barry on the web), had a nice Adult Beverage and a large bowl of vibrant extruded corniness on a TV-tray by the couch. Life was SOOOOOO good! But I was soon to find it even better!
While at Wal-mart something caught my eye—What’s this? “All natural Cheetos puffs” served up as a neutral cream-colored puffette in the flavor of “Light Cheddar.” My mind reeled to make sense of what I saw, but to no avail: How can you have a Cheetos without the aberrant coloring that rubs off onto your fingers, clothes, and small furry pets? How can the words “Cheetos” and “Natural” be in the same sentence without causing a smirk or guffaw? Strangely…these snacks were fully Cheetos and fully serious. Even the bag looked healthy with its subdued palette of wholesome earth tones and a splash of respectable Navy. Chester, the racy, cool (and dare I say, “sexy”) icon of all Cheeto-ness since 1986 was present on the bag, only smaller looking somehow thinner—wimpy-er—in his typical wild-tongue stance; like a cross-country runner posing in a GQ pose for a “unposed” yearbook picture.
The Apocalypse just might be up on us.
The following is offered in order to appear knowledgeable and pedantic. According to Wikipedia, “Cheetos are often referred to in pop culture as the snack choice of lazy, overweight nerds and unemployed people.”
Don't tell my husband he could be lustfully replaced by a $3 bag of snacks at: marcyjoybryan@gmail.com
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