May 1, 2003

N.B.: This is my first post of two today, since every time I tried to post last night my computer crashed. I know Macs aren’t supposed to do that, but there it is.

The very first letter I ever wrote in my entire life, when I was four, was to the Kellogg Company. We had a rule in my house that two out of every three boxes of cereal we bought had to be “good cereals;” only one could be a “bad cereal.” A “good cereal” was one that didn’t have sugar as one of the first three listed ingredients. This meant that most of the time we had to eat boring crap like Rice Krispies or Corn Flakes, and only occasionally could we get terrific stuff like Cookie Crisp.

Naturally I found this situation unacceptable, but I also knew that getting my parents to budge from their position on this issue was about as likely to happen as my suddenly developing an overwhelming desire to play with G.I. Joe figures. So I did the next best thing, which was asking my dad to take me to his office and, while there, typing a letter to the Kellogg Company asking why the cereals that tasted good had to have sugar as one of their first three listed ingredients. Couldn’t they make some cereals that tasted really good but didn’t have as much sugar in them? That way I could eat yummy cereal more often.

They responded by sending me several brochures and charts and graphs explaining all sorts of things about their cereals that I didn’t understand at all. I suppose I might understand them now, but at the time I felt both awed to have received a Letter from a Company and bitterly disappointed that they didn’t really answer my question.

Now I have M&Ms and Coke for breakfast.

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2 Responses to N.B.: This is my first

  1. elflad says:

    Oddly enough, I did play with G.I. Joe, but shortly after I received him as a Christmas present, I took all of his military drag and tossed it in the trash. I then took some of my sister’s Ken doll’s pants, and cut them down to make short shorts for Joe (and told my parents and sister that our younger cousin had done the hatchet job). The shirtless and be-shorted Joe–AWOL–and his “best buddy” Ken–in bathing trunks and unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt–then would tool around the basement floor in Barbie’s dream car, a convertible (of course, there being no Barbie dream Wrangler).

  2. Stephanie says:

    another Mac user! (Soon we will have more than four percent of the market! Five percent and we get funding for the next presidential election! — oh, wait, that’s the Greens party, not Macs. Damnit.)


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