Another vestige of my childhood on the way out. And I don’t like it.
Hostess was a part of my lunchbox (yes, a Partridge Family lunchbox with the thermos that had a glass liner that I seemed to break the second I got it) probably well into 8th grade. High school; it was the after school snack or late night study gobble. And it’s true, we didn’t see much of each other after that but I will admit to buying them now and then. Although they’re smaller than I remember, but isn’t everything?
This week, Hostess declared bankruptcy. I suppose it’s not surprising. In a world where organic and free range are commonplace and the news is riddled with stories of schools forbidding cake at birthday celebrations and soda being removed from vending machines, Hostess was bound to fail at some point.
I’m not going to extol the health benefits of eating a lot of this stuff, because there aren’t any. It was a treat, meant to be as good or close to homemade when your mother didn’t have time. For some, it’s a meal replacement instead of a treat which hasn’t helped its reputation given the obesity situation in the US.
But I will tell you that its sad to see an old friend go. I remember scooping out the filling of the cupcakes or Twinkies, discussing whether or not you liked snowballs and watching (not participating in) Twinkie eating contests. All a part of my childhood.
Of course today, there are deep-fried Twinkies, Twinkie wedding cakes and the age-long discussion of how long a twinkle can sit on the shelf before going bad.
Not much longer, I’m afraid.