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UnknownToday at the grocery store Someone asked if there was anything else I wanted besides what was on the list. My normal response to this enquiry is ‘a piston engine!” but today out came “Otter pops!”.  Both us us were surprised by this unexpected ejaculation.

I know where this is coming from. My long-dormant desire for sweets was awakened last week when Urs Truly was down and out and only able to drink Gatorade (nasty). Apparently onslaught of the high fructose corn syrup pressed all the neuro-receptors in my brain to unleash an inimical amount of dopamine and opiate to make me wanting more.

We located a box of them (hey were on sale!) and took them home. They are slowly stiffening in the freezer; by evening I will be happily sucking a stick turning my tongue unnatural tones of color.


For Spo-fans unfamiliar with Otter Pops, they are basically cheap popsicles. Long tubes of plastic are filled with water, sugar and artificial this and that. Then they are given fluorescent coloring (I think there are seven). They are cold, sweet, and just the right thing for a hot summer evening – like my men.

No nutritionist or orthorexic busy-body can stand up to the mawkish pleasure of a popsicle. It has been decades since I had a proper one (thems on a wooden stick). I can imagine no better treat for summer. By themselves they taste cold and chemical sweet but oh! the associations!  Hot summer nights (before the obliquitous AC), July 4th fireworks, and BBQ with ribs and corn and such.

Ice cream was splendid but popsicles were better, for they came in zany flavors and shapes. I recall one shaped like a rocket, with red, white, and blue layers to suggest America.  In our neighborhood ‘Popsicle Pete’ would drive by, playing a tune, announcing he was here. Like The Pied Piper of Hamlin us kids lost our frekkin minds. We dropped everything to run to Mom to beg for a quarter. We always worried we would not catch him but he was no fool.

There is no satisfaction as sitting curbside, sucking a popsicle, and sticking out your tongue to compare whose is more gross looking. Purple tongues were the usual winners.

Tonight it will be 44C (translation: hot as hell).  There will be no fireworks and I suspect Someone will not be interested in seeing what colour is my tongue.

I look forward to having the quiet satisfaction of consuming an Otter Pop with all its splendor.  I shall have two at once, a lime and a blue one. How zany.



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