I recently
saw a reading list that I have made my 2015 goal. It’s not full of book titles,
but type of books, such as over 500 pages, a book taking place in my hometown,
based on a true story, one with bad reviews, a color in the title, on that was
published the year I was born, etc. All
in all there are 50 different types.
An
additional goal is to review each one on Amazon, Goodreads (and here), something
I quit doing about the time I started finishing books at 3am and then going to
sleep.
Will I make
the goal? I know I will read many more
books than that this year, but will I add variety to my reading or keeping with
the same old formula? Only time will
tell.
Number one
completed on the list was a book I started but never finished. Started from page 1 and read completely through
to the end, is Candyfreak: A Journey Through the Chocolate Underbelly of
America, by Steve Almond. I didn’t set
out to read this book in particular, but last week, Garageman called me to his
office (i.e. the garage) to listen to an interview on sports talk. You can
imagine my total joy. As I listened to this very articulate and entertaining
man talk about the book he had just written on football and why he both loves and
loathes it, I became entranced. I decided to find his name (Garageman couldn’t
remember) and the book (he couldn’t remember that either. At the end of the program, he did remember
that maybe the guys last name was Allman and 10 years ago or so, he wrote about
all about candy, and his trip across America to small, family owned and run
manufacturers and how the big three were slowing killing them off.
Eureka! I had that book! I started reading it, and for some reason
never finished, so I did a little research and dug it out. (I also purchased
Against Football: One Fan’s Reluctant Manifesto for later.)
Candyfreak
made me squeal with delight, shake my head yes in knowing sympathy, and made my
stomach pine and mouth water for all those pieces of sugary goodness that were
mostly regional, and that are long gone, or very hard to find. It delves into
the disgusting practices of the big three and how they pay retailers huge fees
to stock only their goods, pricing mom and pop manufacturers out. It led to discussions between Garageman and I
about the lack of new candy and limited twists on the old, pathetic as they
are, at least it’s something new.
I was thrilled to find my favorite hometown candy with its own chapter - Valomilk, and to this day it pisses me off greatly, that in order to buy a hometown made candy, I have to go to Cracker Barrel because of the stocking fees charged by grocery stores and encouraged by the big three. I admit, for a long, long time, I was an M&M freak, but the minute I started watching NASCAR and saw that Mars sponsored a driver who must remain nameless in my household, I banned all Mars candy from crossing my threshold. I still allow Nestle and Hershey, but no Mars products, since I protest not with signs and marches, but by withholding my dollars.
Anyway, back
to the book. It made me long for the
days of Mary Janes, rock candy, root beer barrels, peanut clusters, buttons, wax
fingers, and all those wonderful penny delights of my childhood. Thanks to Mr.
Almond’s Freak Appendix, I now have websites to connect with certain candy fetishes,
and I recently found The Vermont Country Store, who sells many of these same
delights. I’d give the book five thumbs
up, but he said nicer things about other candy makers than he did Russell
Sifers who makes Valomilks. In my book,
that makes Mr. Almond slightly suspicious.
No comments:
Post a Comment