Breakfast Cereal Characters, the DSM IV, and you

Hi!  Welcome back.   I was in New Jersey last week, which I am using to account for the lack of posting on Thursday and Friday.  Over the weekend, while Stephan was making dinner for me (what can I say?  I am extremely spoiled), I helped him by hovering over the risotto and taking bites out of it, and also asking him repeatedly when it would be finished.  Apparently this was not as helpful as I had anticipated, because eventually he indicated that I should go away, after which this dialog ensued:

Me:  "Give me some more of that risotto, or I will bonk you over the head, then you will see stars, and while you are recovering I will steal it  You will never know what hit you."

Stephan:  "Who are you, the Trix rabbit?"

This lead (of course) to a discussion of why the Trix rabbit had to resort to nefarious schemes and tomfoolery to get Trix.  Stephan wondered why he couldn't just buy it, and I posited that this was due to his lack of pockets, and therefore, lack of a real place to put his money.  This then devolved (or evolved, depending on your view of absurdist conversations about breakfast cereal) into a comprehensive look at the cereal characters that we have known and loved, and what we think they mean now that we're older and more funny.

Here are my notes from this discussion.  I must say, Stephan was really in top form.

We began by returning to the often-referred to Lucky the Leprechaun, who (as I'm sure you'll agree if you are over thirty) has become increasingly strange-looking and paranoid as the years have progressed. 

In case you're about to go "No— that's not true.  You're imagining that,"  here is how he used to look:

 

Look how cute he is!  He's cherubic and sweet, and he is casting a spell over this 1970's cereal with his little wand.   Maybe he's putting a little sugar on it.  Who knows?

And…..here is what he looks like now.  Please feel free to click the image if you would like to "enlarge" and examine him further.

That's right.  Lucky the Leprechaun is now a paranoid schizophrenic on a three-day meth bender, hiding from the immigration, muttering "They're trying to take me Lucky Charms….." while inventing new tiny marshmallows to put in there which might be inspired by some kind of hallucination.  PURPLE HORSESHOES, MAN!  RAINBOWS!

Lest you think I am reading too much into this Lucky the Leprechaun thing, I will move on to the other characters on the list that we deconstructed, starting with Sonny, the Cocoa Puffs bird.

Sonny clearly has Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and cocoa puffs are
the object of his obsession.  He is cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs, and his need
to acquire the cereal is (like the Trix rabbit) hampered by the fact
that he also has no pants, and therefore, no pockets and no money.  
Presumably this makes him fixate on it more.  Sonny is your crazy relative– you don't know what to do with him, maybe you let him live in your basement, and when someone comments on him, you go "I know, man– he's cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs, what can I say?"

The Cookie Crook from Cookie Crisp, who apparently has committed one cookie crime too many and has been sent to cookie prison for real, because he has been replaced by a non-threatening bird, is next.  But really, "Cookie Crook" as a name?  Is this a nature vs. nurture question?  Was this his name BEFORE he started stealing Cookie Crisp, therefore making his actions a self-fulfilling prophecy, or did someone just start calling him "Cookie Crook" after one of his infractions, thereby greatly increasing his rate of recidivism?   You decide. 

This is when Stephan threw out:  "Also, Count Chocula, Frankenberry, and BooBerry?  Those were just out of work actors."

We then moved on to Snap, Krackle, and Pop, who we decided were the only well-adjusted characters in the group.  They have jobs and seem happy, and really, all they want is for you to stop, take a moment, and listen to the cereal.   They are the Eckhart Tolle, "Power of Now" of breakfast cereal, people.

For some reason, we then left the realm of breakfast cereal to briefly observe the Keebler Elves, who seem to be trapped in some kind of purgatory where they live in a tree, never sleep, and probably have some kind of gluten intolerance issue which prohibits them from actually cosuming their E.L. Fudge cookies.  This is a metaphor of some kind, perhaps for in-depth analysis in another post.

Tony the Tiger seems to us to be the "alpha male" of the breakfast cereal crowd– the guy who is maybe taking care of all his crazy friends.  He also lacks pockets and mostly goes around in an ascot, but apparently has the wherewithal to pull his cereal needs together.   Oh, this brought us to another point, which was "They're Grrrreat!" is a really, really terrible slogan.   That's it?  They're great?   This is the kind of slogan that hearkens back to the old days of "Mad Men" style advertising meetings, when they would agree on the first slogan, then all go out for martinis and hookers.  They're great!   Meeting adjourned!  Make the tiger say it like he's growling.  Grrrrrreat!   Bob, you are a genius."

Next up:  Cap'n Crunch, who, I'm sorry, has been languishing under the title of captain for far too many years.  He should be an admiral by now, and because he is not, I can only assume that he committed some kind of crime, perhaps not serious enough to warrant a court martial, but which is keeping him from advancing in the military ranks.  This crime possibly involves cereal.

From Cap'n Crunch (which is still delicious, even if it does scrape all the skin off the roof of your mouth) we moved on to Fred & Barney from "The Flintstones" endorsing both the Fruity and the Cocoa Pebbles.  When I said I wondered how they kept their milk cold in the Stone Age, Stephan replied "This is your only continuity problem with the Flintstones?  Besides, Fred & Barney can't be trusted– they used to shill for cigarettes back in the 50's." Sure enough, he was right!

Good times. Last but not least we have "Diggem," the Sugar Smacks frog, whose mantra, if you'll remember, was "Gimme a smack and I'll smack you back."   Either he is advocating domestic violence in support of his sugary cereal, or…..we are to equate the sugar with heroin.  Either way, can this be a good example for the children?

I will close not with a character, but by turning your attention to the still-raging "Kellogg's Raisin Bran vs. Post Raisin Bran" debate.  Post is now claiming that they have "NO HIGH FRUCTOSE CORN SYRUP," which I guess is good, but I think is meant more to imply that Kellogg's has it, which led us to remember a time in our childhoods when Kelloggs' value proposition was that the cereal had "Two Scoops of Raisins."  Um, two of what size scoops?   This just in– "scoop" is not a unit of measurement.   When I threw out that maybe a scoop could be a cup, Stephan said "now that would just be too many raisins.  Two cups of raisins?  I don't think so.  It would be mostly raisins and hardly any bran."

And now, we will return you to your regularly scheduled week.  What's going on with you?   Do you have these types of cereal-based discussions in  your house?

• Category: Theories and Speculation