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To be fair, that’s two weeks’ worth. That all-purpose category, “snacks for Joe’s lunch,” gives me the most trouble, and causes me the most pangs to my conscience.
We pack a lunch for Joe, now in second grade, to take to school. We could give him money for a school lunch, but we found out with older son Bud that those lunches tend to the greasy, and upset his stomach.
Plus, we can never be sure what he’s going to buy. Bud, who turned into a health nut by the fifth grade, would, when we gave him money, buy salads and non-fat milk.
Joe, given his head, would buy potato chips and snack crackers. The supermarket gives over entire aisles to that troublesome category known in the industry as “salty snacks.” Joe loves them.
Cheez-its. Doritos. Pringles. Peanut butter cracker snack packs. Cheese cracker snack packs (cheese, right). Cool ranch crackers. Pretzels. Fishies.
Each of these snacks illustrates a modern tendency I call “brand sprawl.” Fishies, the little fish-shaped crackers, now come in various cheese flavors, pretzel flavors, and heavens knows what else. That helps such foods take up as much shelf space as possible. You have to look hard to find “original” Fishies.
AT SOME POINT, parents just gave up on trying to feed little boys anything “healthy.” Just jam the calories into them and hope for the best. Joe, like many boys, alternates between eating enormous amounts and eating almost nothing. Take him to his favorite doughnut shop in the morning and he’ll yonk down two bagels with cream cheese, accompanied by “blue Powerade.”
(I ask you, is anything blue fit for human consumption?)
At other times, he refuses anything but bowl after bowl of Ramen, the Japanese packaged noodle soup, flavored with salty chicken or beef powder, which sells for about a quarter, and is worth just about that much. He likes to flavor it with hot sauce.
Yet again, some mornings Joe will get up and refuse to eat anything.
Such a diet, you’d think, would create “Daddy’s little fatty,” as Willie Nelson wrote. But no. Joe, along, with most of his friends, is lean and muscular, with defined abs.
I have no idea how he gets away with it. “Bet he’s gonna be a man someday.”
A man of faith in a godless age is hitting Americans where it hurts.
Mr. and Mrs. American Spectator Reader, let P.J. O’Rourke talk sense to your kids.
In Britain, defending your property can get you life.
The debacle of this president’s administration is both a cause and a symptom of the decline of American values. Unless Congress impeaches him, that decline will go on unchecked. An eminent jurist surveys the damage and assesses the chances for the recovery of our culture.
It won’t take long for conservatives to scratch this presidential wannabe off their 2008 scorecard.
The American Christmas, like the songs that celebrate it, makes room for everybody under the rainbow. Is that why so many people seem to be hostile to it?
Was the President done in by the economy, or by the politics of the economy?