I like the look of a comma in a blog subject line.
But more than that, I imagine I’d really like the look of a box of Lucky Charms without any of the “lucky” — which happens to refer to the boring carb-infused cereal pieces poured in and among the glorious marshmallow multi-colored “charms” in a box of the sugary delicacy. In fact, an entire box of “Just Plain ‘ol Charms” as the word-meisters might dub the new cereal concoction, might be more lucky than they think.
See, cereal would be so much better without all that crap thrown inside.
It’s no surprise that “85% of Americans would prefer to have a meal consisting of cereal than any other food item available to them” (Some Magazine Writing About Cereal, 6/12/06). It’s also no surprise that with this being the case, a person like oh, I don’t know, myself — might want to make a few minor adjustments to major cereals in order to bring them from “something good” to “something superiorly amazing.” And by removing all the crappy bread fillers from a box of Lucky Charms — well, you’d be giving the American public the most amazing, milk-transforming, marshmallow menagerie of goodness than ever before.
But what of the other cereals?
I don’t know who comes up with these ludicrous cereals, but they always seem to be “just a little off” to me. There’s always one element that’s good, but then they go ahead and screw everything up by adding a bunch of crap that no one wanted in there, in the first place. That’s why, just as bloggers recently screwed up Joe Lieberman’s chances at getting re-elected to the Senate thanks to their very verbose digital opinions…
I’m going to offer up my own suggestions today for how to make mediocre cereals become masters of their own domain.
First and foremost, let’s look at Raisin Bran. When I mention Raisin Bran, what do you think about? Yes, you think about the glorious sweet sugared raisins. Do you think about the crappy cardboardy slats of bran thrown in there to make up the difference? When you get to the end of a bowl of the stuff and you see those flappy, soggy bland brans sitting around and few hiding raisins in the milk, where do you go with your spoon? The people at Post need to do one thing and one thing only: get rid of the bran. If you can come up with a better alternative to go with the glorious raisins, then do it. But until then, I would much perfer to buy a box of “Raisins, Raisins, Raisins! (Now with Granulated Sugar Bits!)” instead of the stuff currently on the shelves.
You may be saying to yourself, “Sure, but didn’t they try and make Raisin Bran better by creating Raisin Bran Crunch?” No. That’s called a “lazy shortcut.” It being obvious that the public was getting sick of the bran, so they went ahead and coated the bran in MORE SUGAR and threw in some oatmeal turds (which often stick to the coated bran) and do nothing more than ruin the pure taste of nature’s raisin goodness. Shame on you, Post. Shame. On. You.
What about Just Right cereal? Really, has Kellogg’s gotten their concept of “a light, crunchy breakfast cereal with lots of fruits and crunchy almonds” right? Or have they made another huge cereal faux-paus by throwing “lots of fruits” and “crunchy almonds” in with a bunch of filler pieces that no one wants to eat in the first place?
You know, there’s got to be some kind of cereal filler plant operating in the Midwest — and all they do is create these crappy filler cereal pieces to be thrown in and among the good cereal stuff. Cereal filler pieces are like the styro-foam packing peanuts of the breakfast world.
So what should the people at Kellogg’s do if they want people to stop referring to their Just Right cereal as “Almost, Potentially Pretty Good?” They get rid of the filler. They keep the fruit and the almonds and they name the thing “Lotsa Fruit (Now with Almonds)!” Or even better, they get rid of the almonds, and they call it “Aren’t You Glad We Got Rid Of The Crappy Filler (Now With Lotsa Fruit)!”
God, I hope I have as much influence on Post and Kellogg’s as those political bloggers had on the Joe Lieberman election last night.
Which brings me to Post’s other glorious huge mistake Fruit & Fibre. Does the name just make you want to choke out a fiber fur ball when you hear it? Does the description of the cereal (“a healthy cereal that is both great tasting and good for you”) make you want to hurl? Does the “perfect combination of golden multigrain flakes, toasted wheat bran flakes and fruits, nuts and crunchy clusters” make you want to run for the hills? Does this brief but all-encompassing chart (to follow) make you agree with me?
Cereal Success Chart (Out of 10 points)
Multigrain flakes: -2 points
Wheat bran flakes: -3 points
Nuts: -2 points
Crunchy items of some kind: -2 points
Fruits: +2 points
Total Points (Out of 10): 3
Listen up hotshot (that means you, Post). Get rid of the multigran anything. Trash the bran flakes. Get rid of the nuts. Forget about crunch just for the sake of crunch. Keep the fruits and add some raisins and marshmallows. Call it “Fruity Clouds” and throw in a secret decoder ring or CD-Rom filled with glorious freeware flash games. Create an energetic penguin character named “Flippy” to hock the cereal on Saturday morning TV. And what do you have when all is said and done?
“Fruity Clouds is a fruity marshmallowy cereal that tastes great and is the perfect combination of sweet fruits, sweet marshmallows and true, genuine heart.”
As for Lucky Charms, without the luck (i.e. crappy cereal pieces) — I think you’re probably seeing the light of day here. What better way than to get that 85% of cereal loving Americans up to a 95% or a 99.9%? What better way to put those horrible mob-controlled cereal filler plants out of business and give the real business back to the slave wage marshmallow charm-placers who are consistently looking for new work thanks to General Mills lack of forethought in the Lucky Charms market.
Lucky Charms without the luck is sounding mighty mighty lucky to me.