Floyd’s big excitement this week was finding a bag of plain chips at the grocery store. I know, I know. It seems like small potatoes (tee, hee), but in this household it’s a major accomplishment. Especially since I’ve been hearing complaints about the lack of plain chips for awhile now. “I don’t need all the fancy flavors. What’s wrong with plain old potato!”
Floyd’s favorites are Art’s and Mary’s. But even they’ve leaned toward the wild side with Jalapeno, Salt and Vinegar, and (heaven forbid) No Salt. Since they are so tasty, our local source is often out of plain to Floyd’s dismay. I try to keep the peace, pointing out that his plain chips are the victims of our economic times in which companies vie for our consumer dollars by trying one new thing after another.
But it’s my belief that we’re in the Age of Extreme Chip-ism, when folks crave the intense, the outrageous, the excessive leaving those of us with touchy taste buds or tender intestines out of the loop. A well-known corn chip brand runs the gambit from cool ranch to fire-in-the-“whole” (as Floyd indelicately puts it). You can bet we won’t be buying those chips that promise to “make some memories you won’t soon forget.”
And it’s not just chips. Come on, Oreos, really? Candy corn? Jelly donut? Caramel apple flavors? Give it a rest, will you?
Don’t get me wrong. I’m all about embracing change, trying something new, celebrating differences. I love my gluten-free multi-grains and my colorful chickpea crisps. I even braved the pancake-flavored puffcorn we accidently bought at Sam’s and found it delicious. But I kind of miss the old days when a chip was chip and not a gastronomical experience. I also liked when we didn’t have to make so many decisions. Fewer choices meant less stress, for sure.
It reminds me of the time when we lived on the farm and I was trying to choose interior paint colors. Somehow Tahitian Sunrise didn’t seem right for our rural living room. Nor did Surfing or Croissant. Although there were a couple that could have worked like Dakota Wheat and Vast Sky. Floyd and I had some fun tossing around ideas for more farm-appropriate options such as Calf Scours Yellow, Old Equipment Rust, Dusty Drought Gray. Or our favorite, but seldom seen, Refreshing Rain.
I guess the chip situation is just another indicator of our Boomer mind-set when Time moved more slowly and middle-of-the road was a good place to be. But that’s the way it is. So, carry on advertising agencies and product placement experts. I’m happy to let you fall all over yourselves trying to entice my husband out of his plain chip rut. It makes for some fun conversations as we sit in our recliner thrones and mute the sound on yet another commercial for Everything But the Kitchen Sink Blow Your Mind Yum Yum Potato Puffs.
Have a good week.
Hugs,
Dale
Dale, so true my friend. Our grandson Porter kept saying his French fries were hot. I kept blowing on them and he finally ate them. Later I read the bottle of ketchup and turns out it was a spicy ketchup. 😃
Well, you had me at the Lay's potato chip bag. Not only do I not need the variation in flavors, my husband says he might as well just buy me a salt lick. Absolutely love my salty snacks! But, yes, I'm of an age where the plain potato chip or the bowl of popcorn does the trick. Thanks again for your wonderful words!