My Candy Lies In Wait
Mere mortals cannot stand the waiting process.
I see it every day with my unique-mortal eyes. I go to movies and watch people walk in with their popcorn and their soft-drinks and their candy. I see them get situated, placing the candy in their shirt pocket, their drink in the left-side armrest/cup holder and I watch them strengthen their thigh muscles by gripping the tub of popcorn between their legs.
And before the movie starts, most of it is gone.
But me, the mortal man with the unique-mortal eyes who watches it all unfold before him — my candy lies in wait. Nestled in the armrest/cup holder, my candy sits pristine. It stays shut, closed off from the pungent air, filled with scents of malt-balls and licorice and extra helpings of butter. My box of candy will lie in wait, not until the trailers begin, but… until the main titles of the feature presentation have come and gone.
My candy…lies in wait.
There were the days when I could not help my sugar-compulsion. I would pick up a box of Raisinettes or Good n’ Plenty or Malted Milk Balls or Milk Duds and proceed to finish the entire box before I even knew the answer to what the movie term “Grip” actually meant. I would scarf down a box of sugary treats before the latest Enrique Iglesias song had ended, and the announcer-guy told me where I could buy it. Before the trailers began, my stomach acids would be halfway through the breaking-down process.
But no longer. Now, as I have previously mentioned before the last paragraph and will now mention again in an attempt to bookend the previous paragraph… My candy lies in wait.
A lot of people stop me on the street to ask me the question you’ve got on the tip of your tongue. Usually, they word it like this: “Hey, Paul. Good to see you. Do you mind if I ask you how in the heck you have the will power to not eat your candy until after the main titles of the feature presentation have come and gone?”
Often, I chuckle. The fact that everyday Americans know just how to word the question. The fact that everyday Americans are concerned about issues such as this. The fact that everyday Americans track me down, even while in mid-shower, just to get the answer to one of America’s hot-button topics.
I often have a two-word answer: “Calming beads,” I tell them. “It’s all about the calming beads.”
Beads that can be picked up in any store that sells beads. There are many bead stores across this great country of ours and all you need are three. Three beads of any color of any pattern and of any feel. Three beads that, when you rotate them in the palm of your right hand, take away any and all desire for candy, at least until the main titles of the feature presentation have come and gone.
Why such calming beads only work until after the credits have come and gone is anyone’s guess. And usually when great Americans with great questions follow-up their first one with, “Why do your calming beads only work until after the credits have come and gone?”…I usually give them my trademark twelve-word answer: “I don’t know, but it’s pretty damn cool that they work anyway!”
At the end of the day (and the main credits in the feature presentation), will power is a tough thing to get our heads around. And especially, with the excitement of a movie’s opening night, candy in your lap, buzzing all around you — you just want to gobble up what’s yours. But just as my own candy lies in wait, so too can yours by utilizing some of my personal techniques as outlined above.
You don’t have to do it. I’m not telling you that you’re less of a mortal-human being by eating everything before the lights have even dimmed. In fact, if that’s your bag (baby) then please feel free. But what you shouldn’t feel free to do is ask me for some of my Milk Duds because if you don’t have the inner-strength to save your own crap for the movie, then you can’t have any of mine.
My candy. Oh yes. It does. Lie. In wait.
In other news, you may go back and re-read this post out-loud with beat-poet percussion being played from behind you. Thus, this piece may be performed in public if you request permission ahead of time.