Several years back, McDonalds had an ad campaign that included a re-make of their commercial jingle from when my husband and I were kids. We giggled as we sang along and were instantly transported back to our innocent childhood full of trans fats. We commented that our generation had made it to decision-making status. They were in charge and were bringing back that which made us happy as children.
A few years after that, Cabbage Patch Kids and Care Bears had a resurgence in their popularity, and we rolled our eyes knowing that the executives with the decisive power in the big corporations were the age of our sisters. We shuttered at the thought, but our generation had a good run.
With Burger King’s recent announcement of a bacon-ice cream sundae and Pizza Hut’s recent menu addition of hot-dog stuffed pizza crust (no, I’m not making this up), my husband and I knew that those tokers who skipped class in college had finally risen to power. What’s next? Cheeto Sandwiches at Subway?
I’m not a food snob to say the least – says the woman who will feed her family Lunchables five days a week during softball season. But, I honestly have to wonder who thought these were good culinary choices?
I seriously have to wonder if that guy I knew in college who had memorized “Bohemian Rhapsody” and carried a box of Bugles with him to every class (I know this because he always walked in ten minutes before dismissal) has made it big. With these new announcements, I now believe he may be in charge of the Food and Drug Administration and has issued a statement saying that “it doesn’t matter what you eat as long as you’re taking care of the munchies. Woah.”
I realize that during county and state fair season, all rules for healthy eating go right out the window just as fried butter goes right through you. But this is not fair season nor are these menu additions part of a “buy one heart stent get one free” campaign. These are additions for no reason other than to change things up a bit.
My husband tells me that I have no room to talk. He says that my dipping French fries in a chocolate shake is no better that Burger King’s and Pizza Hut’s concoctions. I told him, “So what?" Dropping peanuts in a bottle of Dr. Pepper was just gross. I skipped debate class in college – I had a headache from all the Bugles I had eaten the night before.
OK – my hubby may have a point. We all do weird things with food. I get that; it’s our right. I do have to wonder exactly what Burger King and Pizza Hut believe about their consumers. It angered me to be thought of as brainless.
In a moment of momma madness, I actually stopped at Burger King intending to speak to a manager and get corporate names to kick some corporate butts. I had visions of Erin Brockovich. I slung my hobo purse over my shoulder and carried my flip-flop clad feet right into the King’s palace. My jaw dropped when I saw the Bugle Boy behind the counter ready to “take my order. Woah.”
I shook my head. It was clear: Just because they make it doesn’t mean I have to buy it. Bad choices are bad choices.
Bad choices can also be delicious. “I’d like to try your bacon sundae, Dude,” I ordered. He pronounced the order “righteous”, and I licked my lips all the way back to the minivan.
