I woke up this morning to disturbing news. Shockingly it had nothing to do with the ebb and flow of my lifeline a.k.a. sports and cupcakes…well, almost nothing.
Hostess, the delightful little company who has brought us the staple treats of our childhood years (or my childhood years anyway) may be closing their factory doors for good due to a Baker’s Union strike.
A strike? Really? For some reason I can only associate strikes with Lavern, Shirley, and the 1970s…not 2012. How can something that’s been around since 1930 be tossed aside so easily? We bailed out the bankers, why not the bakers? Much of the same despair I felt the day my mother came home with Hunt’s ketchup instead of Heinz, is lingering in the air today. Sometimes I feel I am the only person who truly values the sanctity of traditions. Even if it’s the tradition of a tiny little baked good.
So what does this mean? It means no more Twinkies. No more cupcakes with that alluring white squiggly line. No more Ding Dongs or HoHos. I’ve already been partially-robbed of another piece of my heart when they discontinued Wonka Bars. What’s next? No more Big Bird? (Luckily we dodged that bullet.)
As silly as it may sound, this is devastating news for those of us who grew up with these delightful and seemingly indestructible treats in our Punky Brewster lunchboxes. Even if we (and by we, I mean me) don’t indulge in such non-organic treats nowadays, the idea of them ceasing to exist just seems wrong. Imagine a world where our children will never know the pleasure of unwrapping a HoHo by its shiny and flimsy little chocolate shell.
Mark my words. If I come into some serious cash anytime soon, I will happily scoop up Hostess and all it entails. Saving not only the countless jobs of the treat makers, but the nostalgia that is wrapped inside every one of those high-starch, sugar-laden, preservative-oozing, spongy pieces of Heaven.