Friday, June 30, 2006
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
In A Fluff Over Fluff
It seems that the state of Massachussetts is in a pandemonious uproar. The battle lines have been drawn, the gauntlet has been thrown, and the gloves have come off. Why?
One horribly misguided man dared to say that peanut butter and marshmallow fluff sandwiches might not, in fact, be the best thing to have on a school cafeteria menu.
Several questions leap immediately to my mind. Specifically:
1) What is marshmallow fluff?
2) No, really, what is it?
3) When's lunch?
In answer to the first two questions, the ABCNews.com article (link above) was a little vague. It merely stated,
Fluff has a long history in Massachusetts. The treat was popularized by H. Allen Durkee and Fred L. Mower, who cooked up the concoction in their kitchen at night and sold it door to door during the day.
Intriguing indeed.
Well, I don't like to toot my own horn, but in what I would modestly call a heroic effort to get to the bottom of this whole sticky mess, I personally and of my own free will visited the official Marshmallow Fluff Web site, marshmallowfluff.com. It was there that I chanced upon the crucial discovery that Marshmallow Fluff is, if you can believe it, the "finest marshmallow creme anwhere," and that the site now offers "secure online ordering."
AND, you can even get flavored fluff! (Strawberry and Raspberry... mmmmmmmm.)
But unfortunately, all that helpful information still didn't tell me exactly what fluff IS, which is what I really want to know (I think). I mean, ok, marshmallow creme, I get that, but... what is marshmallow creme? Do they just melt marshmallows all together and scoop the resulting glop into a jar? The information on the homepage left something to be desired, if you are looking, as I was, for actual information. Here's what it says:
Marshmallow Fluff is still produced by the same batch process developed over 75 years ago - it's the only marshmallow creme made in this manner. It's what makes Durkee-Mower's product so fluffy, white, and smooth; it's what makes the difference. Because Marshmallow Fluff is made only with the finest ingredients under the most demanding sanitary conditions, it requires no artificial preservatives. Remember, your guarantee of success with the recipes in The Yummy Book is insured only when using Marshmallow Fluff.
Hmmm. "The Yummy Book"? Undeniably, the plot--like the Fluff--thickens.
But to the point. It would seem that Marshmallow Fluff, being made in a time-tested manner from sanitary marshmallows (whatever that means), has not quite established a viable claim to health and wholesomeness, which is where the whole aforementioned Massachusetts fiasco comes in. Because one Senator foolishly thinks that schools should serve nutritious meals to kids, while a Representative is apparently personally addicted to Fluff and can't bear the thought that a new generation might miss out on the joys that come with the unregulated eating of sticky goo, just because said goo isn't what you'd call beneficial per se to one's physical development and wellbeing.
As I said--battle lines have been drawn.
Rep. Kathi-Anne Reinstein, D, has set herself against Sen. Jarrett Barrios as he seeks to pass legislation that would prevent schools from serving the sandwich more than once a week. Reinstein is passionate about the right of the Fluffernutter Sandwich (as it is called) to remain in schools where it belongs, as often as it wants (probably so it can get a decent education and grow up to fulfill its dreams of being a healthier, more nutritious meal someday).
Rep. Reinstein not only wants to make the Fluffernutter the OFFICIAL SANDWICH of "the Commonwealth of Massachusetts" (do states even have official sandwiches?), but she emphatically declared herself committed to the war against the war on fluff when she said, "I'm going to fight to the death for Fluff."
That's something you probably don't hear every day. Probably because most people aren't as willing to openly sound like raving lunatics, if they can help it.
I mean, everyone has to have a cause, I guess, but it's kind of too bad that Reinstein's isn't something more politically important or globally pressing such as, oh, I don't know--pretty much anything else, really.
However, at least she's ready to die for it.
I must admit I'm pretty mystified over the emotional reaction to this whole debate. I mean, far be it from me to make fun of the issues people care about so deeply, but sometimes someone just has to stand up for the truth and let people know that what they care about so deeply is ridiculous.
In other words: It's a SANDWICH, people. Get over it. Please.
And then pass me some Fluff, because I mean, really, what IS it?!
(As an essay question of sorts: Is there a sandwich that you would fight to the death for? Why or why not? And if so, what is it?)
One horribly misguided man dared to say that peanut butter and marshmallow fluff sandwiches might not, in fact, be the best thing to have on a school cafeteria menu.
Several questions leap immediately to my mind. Specifically:
1) What is marshmallow fluff?
2) No, really, what is it?
3) When's lunch?
In answer to the first two questions, the ABCNews.com article (link above) was a little vague. It merely stated,
Fluff has a long history in Massachusetts. The treat was popularized by H. Allen Durkee and Fred L. Mower, who cooked up the concoction in their kitchen at night and sold it door to door during the day.
Intriguing indeed.
Well, I don't like to toot my own horn, but in what I would modestly call a heroic effort to get to the bottom of this whole sticky mess, I personally and of my own free will visited the official Marshmallow Fluff Web site, marshmallowfluff.com. It was there that I chanced upon the crucial discovery that Marshmallow Fluff is, if you can believe it, the "finest marshmallow creme anwhere," and that the site now offers "secure online ordering."
AND, you can even get flavored fluff! (Strawberry and Raspberry... mmmmmmmm.)
But unfortunately, all that helpful information still didn't tell me exactly what fluff IS, which is what I really want to know (I think). I mean, ok, marshmallow creme, I get that, but... what is marshmallow creme? Do they just melt marshmallows all together and scoop the resulting glop into a jar? The information on the homepage left something to be desired, if you are looking, as I was, for actual information. Here's what it says:
Marshmallow Fluff is still produced by the same batch process developed over 75 years ago - it's the only marshmallow creme made in this manner. It's what makes Durkee-Mower's product so fluffy, white, and smooth; it's what makes the difference. Because Marshmallow Fluff is made only with the finest ingredients under the most demanding sanitary conditions, it requires no artificial preservatives. Remember, your guarantee of success with the recipes in The Yummy Book is insured only when using Marshmallow Fluff.
Hmmm. "The Yummy Book"? Undeniably, the plot--like the Fluff--thickens.
But to the point. It would seem that Marshmallow Fluff, being made in a time-tested manner from sanitary marshmallows (whatever that means), has not quite established a viable claim to health and wholesomeness, which is where the whole aforementioned Massachusetts fiasco comes in. Because one Senator foolishly thinks that schools should serve nutritious meals to kids, while a Representative is apparently personally addicted to Fluff and can't bear the thought that a new generation might miss out on the joys that come with the unregulated eating of sticky goo, just because said goo isn't what you'd call beneficial per se to one's physical development and wellbeing.
As I said--battle lines have been drawn.
Rep. Kathi-Anne Reinstein, D, has set herself against Sen. Jarrett Barrios as he seeks to pass legislation that would prevent schools from serving the sandwich more than once a week. Reinstein is passionate about the right of the Fluffernutter Sandwich (as it is called) to remain in schools where it belongs, as often as it wants (probably so it can get a decent education and grow up to fulfill its dreams of being a healthier, more nutritious meal someday).
Rep. Reinstein not only wants to make the Fluffernutter the OFFICIAL SANDWICH of "the Commonwealth of Massachusetts" (do states even have official sandwiches?), but she emphatically declared herself committed to the war against the war on fluff when she said, "I'm going to fight to the death for Fluff."
That's something you probably don't hear every day. Probably because most people aren't as willing to openly sound like raving lunatics, if they can help it.
I mean, everyone has to have a cause, I guess, but it's kind of too bad that Reinstein's isn't something more politically important or globally pressing such as, oh, I don't know--pretty much anything else, really.
However, at least she's ready to die for it.
I must admit I'm pretty mystified over the emotional reaction to this whole debate. I mean, far be it from me to make fun of the issues people care about so deeply, but sometimes someone just has to stand up for the truth and let people know that what they care about so deeply is ridiculous.
In other words: It's a SANDWICH, people. Get over it. Please.
And then pass me some Fluff, because I mean, really, what IS it?!
(As an essay question of sorts: Is there a sandwich that you would fight to the death for? Why or why not? And if so, what is it?)
Monday, June 26, 2006
New Zealand's "All Blacks" Team Bleeds for Cause
What cause, you ask? And well you might. But only if you don't know New Zealanders.
Having lived in the Land of the Long White Cloud for a goodly length of time (i.e., most of 2002-2004), I definitely learned a few things about the kiwi culture and way of life. Probably one of the main ones being that New Zealanders are truly and completely and almost without any exception whatsoever PASSIONATE about sport (as they would say; not "sports").
A fact which goes triple for rugby in particular.
So I was not at all surprised (though I was very amused) to find out that the all-important life-or-death cause of SPORT PROMOTION was being helped by the formidable All Blacks, NZ's national rugby team, all of whom have actually donated their very own precious blood in order to provide much-needed DNA for the purpose of bonding into a printed limited-edition poster. Fans who buy adidas All Black jerseys will receive this novel item while supplies last, thereby taking home with them a little piece of every member of the team.
The poster is called, appropriately enough, "Bonded by Blood."
So for those of you who are always griping about how athletes just don't make enough sacrifices for their loyal fans, I'm happy to say that you are, in fact, wrong. Because if putting your DNA into a special limited-release poster isn't enough, I don't know what is.
Personally, though, I'd prefer it if each team member took non-DNA enhanced posters and simply stapled significant portions of their paychecks to them. That's a sacrifice I could truly, completely, and with absolutely no exception whatsoever, appreciate.
But I'm sure that's just me.
Having lived in the Land of the Long White Cloud for a goodly length of time (i.e., most of 2002-2004), I definitely learned a few things about the kiwi culture and way of life. Probably one of the main ones being that New Zealanders are truly and completely and almost without any exception whatsoever PASSIONATE about sport (as they would say; not "sports").
A fact which goes triple for rugby in particular.
So I was not at all surprised (though I was very amused) to find out that the all-important life-or-death cause of SPORT PROMOTION was being helped by the formidable All Blacks, NZ's national rugby team, all of whom have actually donated their very own precious blood in order to provide much-needed DNA for the purpose of bonding into a printed limited-edition poster. Fans who buy adidas All Black jerseys will receive this novel item while supplies last, thereby taking home with them a little piece of every member of the team.
The poster is called, appropriately enough, "Bonded by Blood."
So for those of you who are always griping about how athletes just don't make enough sacrifices for their loyal fans, I'm happy to say that you are, in fact, wrong. Because if putting your DNA into a special limited-release poster isn't enough, I don't know what is.
Personally, though, I'd prefer it if each team member took non-DNA enhanced posters and simply stapled significant portions of their paychecks to them. That's a sacrifice I could truly, completely, and with absolutely no exception whatsoever, appreciate.
But I'm sure that's just me.
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Sunday Night Before Bed
Sometimes, you just have to contemplate life, the universe, and everything.
And then again, sometimes you don't. I, for instance, am contemplating nothing much at all at this very moment, and doing it with a fair amount of pleasure. It is, after all, a refreshing change from my usual.
I'd better go to bed before my brain wakes up and sees me sitting here idly, not thinking.
It hates when I do that.
And then again, sometimes you don't. I, for instance, am contemplating nothing much at all at this very moment, and doing it with a fair amount of pleasure. It is, after all, a refreshing change from my usual.
I'd better go to bed before my brain wakes up and sees me sitting here idly, not thinking.
It hates when I do that.
Saturday, June 24, 2006
And so on...
Finally, some pics from Honduras. Enjoy!
As fun as Honduras was, I have to admit I got the worst sunburn of my entire life while I was down there. Now I am peeling like crazy.
Or, as a former boyfriend once said, a-pealing. Ha.
By the way, I had my third "have you found a man yet" conversation yesterday. I'm really on a roll. Three times in one week--that's a record I could do without.
In other news, I'm thinking of going to New York before the end of the year. Which is interesting only because I had very nearly made up my mind NEVER to go. I've always resisted the "writer in New York" cliche, with every ounce of stubborness I possess (and believe me, that's a lot).
But fate, it would seem, has something to say about the matter, and that something sounds like this: "Go to New York!" It's a long story, but thankfully, fate is not insisting that I live there--just that I visit. I can handle that, I think.
At least, I hope so.
Funny that I was less apprehensive of going to the Middle East than I am of going to New York City. Why is that, I wonder?
As fun as Honduras was, I have to admit I got the worst sunburn of my entire life while I was down there. Now I am peeling like crazy.
Or, as a former boyfriend once said, a-pealing. Ha.
By the way, I had my third "have you found a man yet" conversation yesterday. I'm really on a roll. Three times in one week--that's a record I could do without.
In other news, I'm thinking of going to New York before the end of the year. Which is interesting only because I had very nearly made up my mind NEVER to go. I've always resisted the "writer in New York" cliche, with every ounce of stubborness I possess (and believe me, that's a lot).
But fate, it would seem, has something to say about the matter, and that something sounds like this: "Go to New York!" It's a long story, but thankfully, fate is not insisting that I live there--just that I visit. I can handle that, I think.
At least, I hope so.
Funny that I was less apprehensive of going to the Middle East than I am of going to New York City. Why is that, I wonder?
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