Who doesn’t like popcorn? Raise your hand. You can’t. Because you do. It’s salty, crunchy, filling, nutritious, contains a reasonable amount of protein, lots of fiber and cheap. All good reasons to love popcorn. The snack is everywhere you go. Nothing says love like popcorn. Kids always smile when they eat it and popcorn is usually associated with some form of entertainment. The statuette for the MTV Awards is a Bronzed Popcorn Tub. How can something so idolized not be good?
Those of you who remember Drive-In Movies might 
recall the concession breaks with the animated popcorn and hot dog walking across the screen, followed closely by soda. And how about Jiffy Pop? How many times did you ruin a batch? My Jiffy Pop always tasted like tin foil. Maybe I was eating the packaging.
The popularity of popcorn in modern times began in the 1890s through the Great Depression. Even though families were suffering during the 
Depression years, the affordability of popcorn, at 5 or 10 cents a bag, was within reach. Most businesses were going belly-up, yet popcorn flourished. There is a story often cited in popcorn-related writings of an Oklahoma banker who lost everything, and then bought a popcorn machine and started a business close to a theater. His popcorn sales made it possible for him to buy back his farms.
World War II brought with it a sugar shortage in the U. S., so popcorn got a charge from the lack of candy. Americans ate three times more popcorn than usual.
But in the 1950s television started taking the families. People stopped going to movies and as a result, less popcorn was being consumed. But
the people realized television was kind of like the movies, only smaller, and they started wanting popcorn at home. Enter Jiffy Pop and all the other versions of home-popped ecstasy.
Then came the microwave, and now we are hooked. I loved going through the office about two hours after lunch. I smelled popcorn. That distinctive smell. You know immediately, “Someone’s making popcorn.” Heads pop up over cubicles, in search of the culprit. The goal is to snatch a few kernels if 
offered. If not, grab it when they look away. But get some.
The first use of the microwave oven in the 1940s was to cook popcorn. It probably tasted lousy then, but popcorn has been so perfected over the decades, that Americans today consume 14 billion quarts each year. That’s 43 quarts per American. That’s a lot of fiber. Good for the paper industry.
I have to go. The popcorn’s done.
With Love,
Bake My Fish
with your ability to read this post. I know they didn’t invent the Internet (that was Al Gore), but they perfected computers and operating systems making it possible for all of us to communicate anonymously in our underwear.
illiteracy probably eliminate about 50% of the customers, so a penetration of 26% or more is significant.
was just a few days before my computer was replaced, but I had a serious “Jones” while waiting. In the meantime, I got back online by going to the library and using their access. I like that my tax dollars are at work, but the library requires you wear pants. If they could bottle our computer addiction, Bill Gates and Steve Jobs would be selling it off the back of covered wagons as “Snake Oil.”
services from your cable company. Have them control your phone, Internet and television service. Maybe they can install cameras in your homes to keep an eye on you. Then lose one source and all the rest go down, too. You’ll be twirling your fingers wondering what to do next. Maybe a book or magazine will suffice, but the addiction will not go away. You’ll be pacing, while waiting for the service to come back.
Before I retied It made no difference what time I left my house in the morning. The only way out of the neighborhood is a choice of one lane roads going in 4 different directions, only one of which headed toward the office. Fortunately, I worked all over, so the other escapes were sometimes handy. Regardless, those routes were usually stuffed, too.
we still have too much traffic. Is the intent to widen the roads so we can get somewhere faster, or to make room for more traffic?
Have you recently tried to buy any original NyQuil (introduced in 1968) or DayQuil (1974), or the generic brand of the same product? You have to give your name and address, possibly show identification and sign for it; if the store even carries the stuff. Most of it has been replaced with a non-pseudoephedrine containing impostor. If these new products were tested on anyone, I want the phone numbers of those people.
We are forced to purchase a lesser product containing phenylephrine so Crank Heads don’t have their faces eaten away by the sores that develop from their addiction. Let’s save them all! It’s the humanitarian thing to do! There are several street names for methamphetamine, including: crank, crystal, meth, ice, speed, glass, and chalk. You can read more about the reasons for the changeover to the 
doesn’t contain either of them, and the new DayQuil, which does include phenylephrine doesn’t work as well as original DayQuil. NyQuil is now made with acetaminophen, which most people know as the ingredient in Tylenol, dextromethorphan (a cough suppressant), and the aforementioned doxylamine succinate. New DayQuil contains all those ingredients except doxylamine succinate, and pseudoephedrine has been replaced by phenylephrine. Confused yet? I am. The final result is we now have another inconvenience caused by illegal activity.
pseudoephedrine from the medications to produce their drug? I can’t imagine any of them have degrees in Pharmaceutical Engineering. But, criminals are usually more genius at whatever activity they pursue, than those pursuing them. And, they seem to have more resources to use in their ventures than those assigned to put them out of business.
the show was based strictly on the quick blurbs obtained from clips on TV. Simon always seemed mean and rude. Maybe he is. Paul Potts brought out the best in Simon, so maybe he’s not.
One of my favorite musicians was Root Boy Slim; circa late 70s – early 80s. He was a genius, who attended Yale University and was a fraternity brother of George W. Bush (in fact when George took over as Fraternity President, he kicked Root Boy out of the club). His real name was Foster McKenzie, III. A noble name for a person thought by most to be a derelict; the type of guy you expected to be living in a Whirlpool refrigerator box over a steam grate in Washington, DC. Well, he did have an apartment above a garage in Silver Spring, MD at one point in time. If you have an interest in him, check out his biography 
wonder and fascination of Root Boy Slim . . . . it is to lead into “Dare to Be Fat.”
attention to what you are consuming before you are at the point of no return. Losing weight is not particularly enjoyable. I feel deprived. I also feel good.
skewed in any one direction. We don’t want to immediately associate a race/ethnic group/religious affiliation/cult/whatever with any particular criminal activity by inadvertently categorizing the person as the member of a certain race/ethnic group/religious affiliation/cult/whatever because it would be innately wrong. But we are dealing with children when it comes to an Amber Alert, and unless you have no heart at all, children do matter.
who is the suspected abductor. Fortunately, I didn’t confront a father taking his child to pre-school or the donut shoppe and make a fool out of myself by beating the snot out of him because he might be the suspect.
During the 60s there were several newspapers in most cities. It seems today in the majority of areas around the country they have disappeared or merged into one. I like competition. It makes things cheaper and requires a thirst for perfection in order to stay in business. Free is cheap. But the onslaught of free papers is getting out of control.
paper, that is now embedded in the crevices of the driveway. Of course, being polite, and not wanting the wrath of your Homeowners Association, you are neighborly and clean up the disintegrating, clear, pink, yellow, or orange-colored, spongy mass that once was a free paper, that is now embedded in the crevices of the driveway. The point is, you didn’t ask for this.
Electronic Spam always has the link that you have to click in order to stop the messages from arriving in your email box. It really doesn’t work for several months, but the “opt out” option is there, nonetheless.
pick them up and throw them away, because there is a slight 
‘
are not in your favor he is washing his hands after whatever bathroom activity he has completed (I’m amazed at the number of men who leave the latrine without doing so).
It may be somewhat possible to determine the extent of contamination based on the stains on his T-shirt. If there are only a few, maybe it’s safe; however, if he just came in from the construction site and went directly to the all-you-can-eat bar without visiting the men’s room for a wash, you are in trouble. Should you spend your meal worrying about him washing? Most of us don’t. We trust the restaurant is clean and the patrons are thoughtful.
OK, now! It seems like they arrive before the rescuers or the police. Do they have CB radios in their cars so they can get there right away? Are people actually waving flashlights to direct the Grievees to those needing grief maintenance? The bodies are still warm, while the Grief Counselors are busy gathering up anyone they can find to hold their hands, wipe their brows and shove business cards in their pockets.
counselors for the other students. Do you think the school officials would ever call a Priest, Minister, Rabbi, Mullah, or Monk to help the grievers? Not likely with the separation of Church and State and all. I would prefer my tax dollars go to feeding jobless pimps, buying dinners and plane rides for Politicos, providing condoms to those who won’t use them, cutting the grass on the White House lawn, saving the 
the line. How’s the new Prescription Drug Plan working for you? Have you been to Canada recently? Have you obtained an online medical evaluation from Almost-A-Doctor so you can buy drugs? Don’t worry, they’ll vow to fix all that. At least up until the Inauguration of January 2025. Then we’re stuck with whichever Loser wins. But aren’t most of the candidates Boomers, too? Shouldn’t they be sympathetic?
us? We are a vote or a no vote. That’s it. Sure, they preach they care. But we know they don’t. When we’re at our Senior Center Dance, maybe they’ll come by to shake our hands, eat a cookie and wiggle their booties to the music . . . . . . . . because there is an election on.
Boomer Twilight 