The
following essay was produced as part of my 2013 effort for the
November National Novel Writing Month effort. As such, please
understand that while I did give it a quick review, it has not
gone through the same proofreading and editing I normally try
to give all of the material posted on this site.
I
always make some mistakes. There are errors to be found throughout
this web site, and many exist despite dozens of attempts to correct
problems. That said, ask that you approach this material in the
spirit intended – a basic thought, slightly worked out and very
informally researched, delivered in the hopes of writing more
than 50,000 words by the end of November.
Thank
you.
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I
was reading an article the other day about Oreos. Seems as though
someone did some research and is claiming that the cravings for
Oreos are similar to those experienced by being addicted to cocaine.
(I’ll
wait here while you wander off to do a search on that… go ahead…
come back when you’re done.)
Recently,
we had some candy in the house. Halloween and all of the other
events of the season (such as supplies for handing out to children
at craft fairs). One day, I noticed a bag of Tootsie Rolls on
the counter.
And
I was scared.
For
some reason, Tootsie Rolls are dangerous items for me.
I
don’t crave them in the true sense of the word or situation. Not
like some people are looking for a bag of chips or an ice cold
beer… not like those days when you just know exactly what you
want for dinner and only Italian food will do (or, insert your
own craving here). Not even like when you know you need candy,
and the result had better involve peanut butter and chocolate
in the answer.
No…
I’m, not addicted to Tootsie Rolls, nor do I blindly just say
things such as: “Hey, I think I’m going out to get some Tootsie
Rolls. Want anything?”
I
may go weeks… months… and usually, years, without having a single
Tootsie Roll.
The
problem is when I do have one.
Suddenly
all bets are off.
I’ll
wander into the kitchen and the open bag is just sitting there.
So I grab a piece, and walk into the back yard. After unwrapping
it and enjoying it, I enter the house and find myself thinking
about the bag. And I grab a couple more as I head into the living
room. Not long after, I find myself thinking the chocolate flavored
treat. I do believe there were more in that bag… and off to the
kitchen.
And
it continues. Because sure, eventually the bag is empty and gone.
But once you have one… they get into your mind… and you start
thinking about getting more.
In
the market…
In
the convenience store…
In
the pharmacy…
And
you get the idea. These places where normally I would never be
thinking about Tootsie Rolls… there I am, thinking about Tootsie
Rolls.
Sometimes
I wander in thinking specifically “Tootsie Rolls”… while others
I walk in and start heading toward the milk, only to spot the
candy aisle and immediately have “Tootsie Roll” trigger.
It
really makes no sense.
And
once the feeling is gone… it’s gone.
Tootsie
Rolls have been around for well over one hundred years. Some of
the material I found on it suggest that this was the first individually
wrapped penny candy. Further research suggests that dozens of
millions of pieces are made each day (as in, well over fifty million
Tootsie Rolls of some version).
Anyway…
Other
than writing this little essay, it’s been five days since I last
picked up a wrapped, bite size Tootsie Roll. The taste is pretty
much gone, and it will likely be quite some time before I have
another.
And
yet… it’s always there. Lingering in the background.