Posted by
Sgt Relic on Monday, March 03, 2008 7:47:57 PM
“In the spring a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love” – from the poem “Locksley Hall” by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Spring is rapidly approaching. It is a time of renewal and rebirth when the earth reemerges from her long winter slumber and puts on her verdant glory. It is once again time for the vernal equinox, time to plan and plant, or engage in the annual ritual of spring clean up.
It is the most important time in the Christian liturgical calendar; spring brings the celebration of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. It signals the approach of Passover, the Jewish celebration of their deliverance from their long Egyptian captivity. The Venerable Bede, the 7th century Anglo-Saxon cleric, tells us that Easter takes it’s English name from Eastre or Eostre, the Teutonic goddess of dawn, whose celebration occurred during the vernal equinox. Many explanations for the word origin exist and like all good debates, this one doesn’t seem to be over either.
Spring has always been a special time of year for this writer. Not only will it mark the occasion of the 2nd anniversary of my 31st birthday, but also more importantly, it is again time for the Easter bunny. History doesn’t tell us how it came to be that an extremely philanthropic rabbit came to be associated with the distribution of brightly colored eggs and sweet treats to children of all ages, and I do mean allllll… ages, but unlike most subjects dealt with here I am willing to swallow (pun intended) this bit of lore, lock, stock and hope. One caveat should be disclosed at this point; since I am a conservative to the core, I naturally loath any dependency for these free distributions, by an unelected, unaccountable, and as far as can be determined, unconstitutionally appointed Leporid.
Leaving nothing to chance I make it my annual obligation to assist in the this great and glorious undertaking, by supplying my own jelly beans. Of all of the confections associated with this observance, nothing stands above the simple jelly bean in my affections. No, not those wimpy little things that Ronaldus Magnus kept on the Resolute desk in the Oval Office, but the real deal, the pectin centered, wax encrusted, tooth destroying, sugar coated jelly bean of legend.
The problem that has emerged with my advancing years is centered in the fact that at some time my tastes ceased to be the driving force in marketing. Perhaps it was the introduction of Gatorade or Sweet Tarts, but whatever the market force was, American’s ceased to be a people satisfied with possibly suffering frost bite to retrieve a, straight from the ice filled galvanized trashcan, longnecked glass bottle, of Grape Nehi. Today it can’t be just one flavor. Oh Noooo! It must be an Orange/Guava/Pomegranate/Sweat Sock flavored beverage, with names like Red Flaming Starlight Demon Mist. One is unsure if your getting a refreshing beverage or perhaps some new form of LSD.
Which brings me to the main point of this exercise (I really did have a main point, honestly), my annual quest for the perfect jelly bean. Retailers having long since recognized the need to market seasonal items quickly, now present the shopper with entire aisles of Easter merchandise. Row upon row of neatly stocked shelves filled to the brim with all of the needed supplies, from wicker baskets to that fake grass, now available in colors besides green, that will still be showing up in your carpet and furniture in October, much the same as its 1st cousin, the Christmas Tree tinsel, which refuses to leave the house in any time frame under 6 months.
Ever the optimist, I began the search at my local outlet. There was of course the usual array of chocolate Easter bunnies, molded in exactly the same shape as those in use in the time of the Vernerable Bebe, and as you may remember from childhood, disappointingly HOLLOW. What staggers the mind is that even though our more affluent society has made possible the solid chocolate bunny, they now come in a profusion of varieties. There were milk chocolate bunnies, dark chocolate bunnies, dark chocolate crème filled bunnies, chocolate peanut butter bunnies, chocolate and marshmallow, chocolate with almonds ,and something new, a Pastelle no chocolate, chocolate bunny, available in pink, green, white and purple. The gimp would have loved the latter.
Undaunted by my first encounter, I moved quickly to the bagged candy section and there was presented with an array of egg-like products, too numerous to possibly list with only the resouces of TH’s servers to support the data. I found Robin’s eggs, actually candied shell malted milk ovoids, M&Ms in decorated egg shape, ranging from the traditional milk chocolate center to dark center, peanut butter, peanut centered and something called a bunnie mix that I assumed to be a combination of all the aforementioned. There were egg shaped Snickers, oddly decorated in sports themes, bubblegum eggs, Nestle’s crunch eggs, Reeses’ eggs also available in dark chocolate, and more varieties of Cadbury eggs than the number of colonies remaining in the British Empire.
Leaving the area of the dark chocolate/raspberry Three Musketeers behind, my spirits were on the ebb. As a former Marine, it is deeply instilled in my psyche, that quitting is never an option, so I marshalled my reserves, squared my shoulders and pressed on, and like many before me my resolve was rewarded, for there in front of me were bags upon bags of jelly beans. I first encountered the all black jelly beans, these are licorice flavor and are not to my liking but are favored by my wife, a fact that may explain, at least in part, our 38 years together. The scent of sweet success was in my nostrils, victory seemed close at hand as I located the spice flavor jelly beans, which were followed by Lifesaver flavors, Jelly Bellys, Ike & Mike, Hot Tamale, Starburst flavors, and finally, the end of the shelf.
That’s right, not one darned bag to be found, zero, zip, nada! As I departed the store, dark thoughts began to swirl in my brain; I thought, first incandescent light bulbs and now plain old fashioned jelly beans. Is nothing sacred any longer? When will they come for my Toll House cookies? I returned to the house in a black humour, my wife sensing my discontent asked if I had found everything at the store? The story poured out detailing every frustration I have felt since I discovered that Mt. Olive Pickle Co. had discontinued making Super Sweet Dill strips, to the disappearance of Queen Anne Cherries in heavy syrup which threatens to destroy a 50+ year tradition in the family.
My story does have a happy ending however, my wife, long aware of my fondness for real pectin jelly beans presented me with an extra large bag of the treasured confections she had tucked away as an Easter surprise. One of life’s little moments, but a huge reaffirmation that 38 years ago I made the right decision. Thanks honey! Happy Easter!