Post-Call Post*

An Ode to Candy

Anyone who has spent more than 3 minutes with me in the last 30-odd years [lament] knows that I have a penchant for sweets. I eat more candy in a week than most 9-year olds do on November 1st. When I wake up in the morning the thought of real food always makes my stomach turn, but a nice handful of red vines sounds just about right. This is somewhat concerning given that I have a strong family history of Diabetes Mellitus.

Etymological Intermission:

"The term diabetes (Greek: διαβήτης, diabētēs) was coined by Aretaeus of Cappadocia. It was derived from the Greek verb διαβαίνειν, diabaínein, itself formed from the prefix dia-, "across, apart," and the verb bainein, "to walk, stand." The verb diabeinein meant "to stride, walk, or stand with legs asunder"; hence, its derivative diabētēs meant "one that straddles," or specifically "a compass, siphon." The sense "siphon" gave rise to the use of diabētēs as the name for a disease involving the discharge of excessive amounts of urine. Diabetes is first recorded in English, in the form diabete, in a medical text written around 1425. In 1675, Thomas Willis added the word mellitus, from the Latin meaning "honey", a reference to the sweet taste of the urine. This sweet taste had been noticed in urine by the ancient Greeks, Chinese, Egyptians, and Indians. In 1776, Matthew Dobson confirmed that the sweet taste was because of an excess of a kind of sugar in the urine and blood of people with diabetes. "

Thanks, Wikipedia. That was fun. My wife's name comes from the same latin root. When I get diabetes I'm going to call it diabetes Melissa. I'll save the urine tasting post for later. Yikes.

Back to the point: I love candy. Candy is my favorite. I thought, since I spend so much time eating it, I ought to devote a post to my favorites. Let me just fire up Google image search...ok, here we go.

Since it was already mentioned, I'll start with the first main food group: The Licorices (Sar: Licorii?). Red vines are a classic and are synonymous with movies. The $6.00 rip-off box is well worth it, as your mouth will want for real sweets after you've finished that large popcorn and XL Diet Coke.

Worst picture ever, but I searched. These are the truest form of licorice: the shoestring. Sadly, this breed is on the endangered species list. Especially good for knot-tying contests to fill the time while on long road trips.

Twizzlers: another honorable mention in the licorice category. I probably eat these the most. Not because they are necessarily my favorite, but they are the easiest to find.

Mmm...Nibs. These are a grandma Ilona candy. So good! They used to be called simply "NIBS" but now they have become a wholly owned subsidiary of the Twizzlers brand, apparently. Personally I think they were doing okay on their own.

Again, crap picture. The super rope is a fantastic type of licorice, although one must swallow his pride to partake of it, as it is huge and somewhat embarrassing for a grown man to be seen carting around a yard-long piece of candy.

A strange variety of licorice: the chocolate Twizzler. My long lost friend Bremond introduced me to these (anybody heard from Brem?). An aquired taste to be sure, but very good.

I eat these more as an homage to my mother than anything else. That's not true, I think they're yummy, it's just hard to admit. Black licorice covered in chalk? Sounds gross, I know. But they are good. I would put a picture up of the even stranger licorice variants that my mom eats but I'm afraid I'd lose 50% of my readership (that's you, ryan).

Ahh...the Salted Nut Roll. Just say that name over and over again. If you're not laughing yet, check your pulse. How could something with such a horrible name taste so good? What's even better, each of it's constituent parts sounds horrible. Salted? NUT? ROLL??!??

I think this is where salted nut roll was trying to go but he took exit 278: Crazytown. 100 grands are so great. Somewhere in between a Nestle Crunch and a Rice Krispie Treat. Mmm... My one memory of the cross country UHaul trek of circa 1981 with my dad was a huge box of these. Did I invent that memory? Dad: please confirm.

Another oft-forgotten favorite. The carmel is a serious mess, but well worth it. There is something magical about breaking off a little cube at a time.

Another Grandma Ilona staple: The Peanut M&M. Always in the glass jar at the top of the stairs. So yummy. But I'm still getting used to the blue ones.

I eat at least 2-3 twix's a week. In elementary school mom would put Little Debbie imitation twix in our lunches. They were so gross. A pitiful attempt. Yuck. Little Debbie should go back to school and become a meter maid or something.

The gummy coke is representative of all things gummy. I pretty much love all of them, although these are my favs. This post is getting out of control already, so I'll spare you the breakdown of the gummy group.

Nerds! NERDS! Two flavors in every pack! What more needs to be said. Although, few candies leave you feeling as much remorse as nerds. When you get to the last one you just feel dirty inside.

A new-variant. The nerds rope. A huge gummy worm covered in nerds! Genius!

Only purchased at the $1 store, the mike and ike varieties are a worthwhile bunch. But don't include the renegade Hot Tamales. Yuck. Especialy the new Caliente versions. They were already unpleasant, do we really need the nuclear version?

Skittles. Just the sight of them conjures up magical fairy tale commercials. I have to chalk these up with Nerds though. I usually just end up hating myself halfway through the bag.

Sour patch kids! My mouth is watering out of control at the very thought. But this pic seems to be of a batch that was left out on the counter in New Orleans during the month of august. If you listen closely you can hear them screaming.

OK: now for a couple rare varieties.

The french version of the sour patch kid: Frites! Frites, as you may know, are what the frogs call French Fries. (Did you think they called them Us Fries?) These are so incredibly good. I need to go back to France and bring back a case.

Another European masterpiece, perhaps my favorite chocolate candy on the planet. The Kinder Bueno. How many cultures can we cross? Kinder Bueno? Why not call it the Origato Kinder Dasvedanya Bueno Ciao. If you ever try one of these you will realize that they were so good they had to break international naming rules to live up to their goodness.

Alright, I have now been informed that instead of getting out of the hospital at a reasonable hour I "get" to go "help" with another surgery right now. Boo. Let me leave you with some serious obscurity. This may be how it all started. In the early 1980s my grandma Lucy always had these caramels called Aids. AIDS! They were appetite suppressants, but I didn't care, I just thought they tasted good. I ate hundreds which probably explains my 13-year-old high school basketball Center metabolism. Wahoo! Here is a pic:

What a name! Reminds me of a similarly ill-fated treat from the mid nineties: it was a breakfast cereal called Honey Bunches of SARS.

In other news:
I've gotten rid of all the album covers that used to hang over there ----> not that any of you noticed. Now there will only be one so that I can divert full attention to whatever album is floating my boat at the moment. As you can see, at this moment it's Death Cab for Cutie's Narrow Stairs. Great tunes, but even better, amazing lyrics. They have that John Mayer-like ability to rip thoughts from my brain that I thought I had previously copyrighted. They also write lyrics that I could only dream of writing. I should put up some lyrics to songs that I've written. Oh wait, that would be more humiliating than Rainn Wilson's recent naked stint on the MTV Movie Awards.
[Jules Winnfield] "EXAMPLE:"

Cath...she stands with a well-intentioned man
but she can't relax with his hand on the small of her back.
As the flash bulbs burst she holds a smile
like someone would hold a crying child.


Cath? Like Cathy? Or like a foley? Anyway, it's good stuff.

OK. I'm off to "work." For once.

*"Post-call" is medical speak for "I just spent the last 24 hours plus at work and any and all responsibility for my actions is hereby rescinded."