Working out some issues?

May 29, 2007

At first, I was just going to write a post about silly newspaper filler articles like this article on salf water taffy. You know, some snarky tripe about how lucky Philip Rucker was to snag the pulled candy beat, or something like that. But there’s more, so much more, to this article.

Caramel popcorn evokes the beach but also the stress of bobbing for apples at country fairs.

Why is bobbing for apples stressful? And why would caramel popcorn evoke this unreasonable stress? I feel like the thought process of this post was “caramel popcorn-caramel apples-bobbing for apples-everyone laughing at me” for some reason, although I’m not sure why everyone should laugh at little Philip Rucker for not being able to successfully negotiate the apple bucket. We can’t all be destined for greatness at trivial tasks.

Snow cones, yes, they say beach, but also Little League and missed glories.

Now we’re getting somewhere. Seems little Philip Rucker has some bad little league memories. Perhaps he’s haunted by visions of himself as a boy, striking out with the bases loaded in the championship game. Then, while all the other boys got grape soda and cupcakes, little Philip was forced to unsuccessfully bob for apples.

Taffy goes with beach chairs, preferably the ’50s models, the webbed-plastic-and-aluminum kind you’ve fallen through at least once in your life, laughing.

Perhaps if Philip didn’t eat so much salt water taffy he wouldn’t exhaust the tensile strength of his beach chairs…

There’s a bad snapshot of it in the family album. Turn the page and see the snap of that infernal windmill hole on the putt-putt course.

Philip’s father used to catalog all of Philip’s failures for easy reference when Philip’s friends would come over. And here’s the windmill hole Philip couldn’t negotiate…

Keep [your eyes] closed and you feel Mom rubbing Coppertone on your cheeks. You wipe the sea salt from your eyes. Your hair blows in the sunset breezes off the ocean. You feel free in your eternal youth.

Ahh, to long for the days before missed little league glories and the Album of Failure!


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