the writing and photography of Neil Kramer

Category: Products (Page 1 of 5)

Feminists Ruin Everything

clinton

It’s one thing to have a woman run for President, or become a CEO, but enough is enough.  It’s not fair.  You keep on infringing on our territory, without giving us anywhere to go.  You can wear a dress.  You can wear pants.  We can wear pants.  Can we wear a dress?   Of course not!   We would be mocked by you!   You don’t even like us to cry.

It used to be that our penis made us unique.  But like Delilah, you feminists will do anything to further your cause in destroying the men you hate so much, slowly pushing us towards the end of the cliff.   First you start using all these exotic vibrators, making us irrelevant in the bedroom.  Seriously, how can we compete with an electrical object made in Japan?  They are like a Sony TV or a Honda Civic — they never break!

vibrator1

And seriously, how many men do you know with a nine inch erect penis?    We see the disappointment on your face when we undress.  We do.

Next, you infiltrated one of our special male clubs — the “peeing” standing up club.   What evil feminist invented the P-Mate, Female Freedom?  God should strike you down.

pee

I’m sure some of you have sons.  Do you remember that look on your son’s face the first time he held his dick in his hand and pissed on your flowers in the backyard.  Pure glee.  Power!  The greatest day of his life.  I remember that day better than my bar mitzvah and wedding.  That’s when I really became a man.   Peeing standing up is for MEN!  Some things should not change.  I believe in equal rights.  I believe gay men should be married.  But c’mon, women, we STAND when we pee.  You don’t.

boypee1

Yesterday, events took a turn for the worse.  I was beginning to accept these new gender roles.  I am a liberal thinker, and secure in my manliness.  I can live in a world with a woman president who uses a vibrator at night and pees standing up.   But this —

bra

The Smart Memory Bra by Lisca lingerie senses a woman’s arousal through her body’s heat, then squeezes her boobs together accordingly.  The integrated memory foam bra reshapes under the influence of heat to enhance cleavage, so when she becomes excited, her larger breasts will indicate to others that she is horny.

What is this?  It is a publicly visible female hard-on!  Is this really necessary?   We enjoy your mystery.   We don’t want to see your breasts tell us that you are horny.   Stop it women.  This is the one male thing left to us that you should not steal — our overtly visual sign of arousal.

hard

The Can Opener

Before she retired in October, my mother told me a story about this college summer intern who worked in her office. My mother’s workplace was antiquated, a “real” looking publishing house, like a relic from the 1940’s. In the back room, there was even a old style desk with a typewriter sitting on top, a reminder of days gone by. One day, the nineteen year old intern asked my mother to tell her about this mysterious machine. The girl knew that it was a typewriter, but she wasn’t sure how it worked, or how you inserted the paper.

“Is there a feeder on the bottom?” she asked.

When my mother told me that story, I laughed. What a dummy that girl was! Of course, in this wireless mobile world, I’m sure it was this young woman who was laughing at my mother.

“You mean — if you made a mistake you had to “white it out” with a cartridge?!”

The arrogance of the college kid.

The typewriter is not the only product to become obsolete. Once upon a time, before the invention of the electric can opener, there was a well-known kitchen appliance called the “manual” can opener. If you go to the Smithsonian, you can see a fine example of this early Americana.

Last night, in an attempt to eat a healthier dinner, I decided to make myself a tuna salad. I went into the fridge and took out an assortment of “good for you” items — lettuce, spinach, tomatoes, cucumbers, and onions. Perfect. Now it was time to reach for the main ingredient — a shiny new can of Bumble Bee Tuna Albacore Fish, packed in water. I carried the can over to electric can opener, and saw this —

canopener1

WTF? Where’s the can opening apparatus? It occurred to me that this was the first time since my mother had gone to Florida that I was attempting to open a can. I called my mother in Boca Raton.

“Where’s the top of the can opener?”

“The top of the can opener? Hello to you, too?”

“Hello, Mom. I’m trying to open a can of tuna fish.”

“A can of tuna fish? Is that your dinner?”

“I’m making a tuna salad.”

“That’s not much of a dinner. Why don’t you buy one of those ready-made chickens at the supermarket?”

“Because today I’m making a tuna fish salad.”

“You should have some soup with too. Did you buy any soup? I’m worried that you’re not eating enough there by yourself.”

“I’m eating fine.”

“You’re not eating in McDonald’s every day, are you?”

“No, I just go there for coffee.”

“Too much coffee is not good either.”

“Anyway, I want to open this can of tuna fish.”

“You should open a can of soup, too.”

“OK, I will. So, now, with the soup, the situation has intensified. I have two cans to open. But your can opener is missing the top.”

“I thought the can opener is just one piece? It has a top?”

“The attachment thing! With the magnet that latches on the metal.”

“Oh, yeah. I don’t know. It’s not there?”

I looked and looked, and couldn’t find the attachment.

“Use the manual can opener that’s in the drawer” she finally said.

I let my mother return to her mah jongg game with her friends, and found the manual can opener. This is it —

canopener3

canopener2

Can you believe that it took me fifteen minutes to open this can of tuna fish? It’s not like I have never used a manual can opener before, or that I am one of those guys that doesn’t know how to open up a can of food. Maybe I have owned an electric can opener for so long now, I forgot how to use the manual one! For the life of me, I could not decipher where the can went in relation to the opener. On the side? Under? To the right? To the left?

I felt like the intern at my mother’s office who didn’t know how to use a typewriter. I felt dumb. But then I thought about it, trying to put a positive spin on my experience. Perhaps this proves that I am younger in spirit, like I am in college again, with an attitude of condescension towards this primitive tool. Who needs to know how to use this thing? The future is now. No going back! I bet you that if I search on iTunes, I could have found an iphone app that could open up that can of tuna fish wirelessly!

Married with Dyson

This post I am writing right now might seem like I am poking fun of mommyblogger promotions and giveaways, but that is not the case.  The following is more about me and my marriage, and what to expect from a wife:

Momdot.com has started an interesting promotion titled Dyson Domestic Divas.

Every 2 weeks from now till April, we are going to be picking a new mom to spend a full two weeks with our Dyson and then come on as a Dyson Domestic Diva and give everyone the lowdown on it. Comparing it to your current household cleaning, your vacuum that you use on a daily basis, the all around ins and outs of how you feel about the Dyson after spending 2 weeks with it in your home. You will be able to blog during your experience from set up to the day it leaves, posting pictures, videos and sharing your experience with the world.

dyson2

The Dyson is an excellent vacuum.  I have one myself.  If I were a Mom, I would love to try-out this new model, the DC 25 Rollerball Animal.

Each Mom who gets picked after sign-up gets to keep the vacuum for two weeks before they have to return it to the company.

Just imagine how clean your house will be and how convinced your husband will be to let you get one after you have proven to him how great it is!

This last sentence made me think about my own marriage, and the roles we played in the home. Were Sophia and I out of step with current reality?  Do wives still need to convince their husbands before buying a vacuum cleaner?  Did I get a raw deal with Sophia?  She is the type of woman who would never ask me before buying a new vacuum cleaner!

She might say, “Neil, I want to buy a new vacuum cleaner.”

I might answer, “Why do we need a new vacuum cleaner.”

And she might reply, “Because the old one stinks.”

What am I talking about?  Sophia never used the vacuum or asked for a vacuum cleaner.  I did all the vacuuming in the house.  I was the one who bought the Dyson for our home!  Am I the only husband in the country to do the vacuuming in the house?  Not only did I do the vacuuming in the house, I had to SHOW Sophia how to used our year-old Dyson before I came to New York because she never used it before!  Was I tricked by Sophia into thinking that a husband should do anything useful in the house, like vacuuming or doing the dishes?  How did I get suckered into that?

If I ever get remarried, I’m going to be looking for a different type of wife — one who ASKS me before she buys a new vacuum cleaner?  A woman who enjoys vacuuming so much, that she will give me oral sex after she finishes cleaning the house in appreciation for my staying out of her territory.  That would be cool, and make me feel manly.

And if she did ask for a new vacuum cleaner, I would tell her that I need that money for my Maxim magazines.

“No! You cannot buy a new vacuum cleaner.  Back into the kitchen, woman.  And put on that French maid’s uniform!”

“Maybe we can get a cleaning woman?” she might ask, a little in awe of my Maleness.

“A cleaning woman?  What for!  That’s what you are here for.  And I like watching your ass move when you dust!”

“Oh honey, you are such a rascal.”

I learned three important lessons this post about Domestic Divas that I need to remember if I ever get re-married:

1)  A wife must ask her husband for permission before buying any household product.

2)  Wives love to clean the house, especially with innovative appliances.

3)  Men have no interest in household cleaning, or are they even expected to contribute and help.

Sophia apparently never read the rules.   If I ever remarry, my next wife will be a Dyson Domestic Diva.

The Performance Art of “Buy Nothing Day”


(I do like this poster!)

I’m all for social activism, but there is activism that tries to create change and there is activism that seems more of a useless symbolic gesture.  Social activists have established tomorrow as Buy Nothing Day.  It was founded by Vancouver performance artist Ted Dave and subsequently promoted by the Canadian Adbusters magazine, and I have seen it heavily promoted on Twitter and on blogs.

“Buy Nothing Day is the biggest 24-hour moratorium against consumerism. People around the world will make a pact to take a break from shopping as a personal experiment or public statement.”

I think it is a terrific idea — a day to celebrate something that isn’t connected with “buying.”  Finally, a holiday which hasn’t been taken over by Hallmark!  But to me, creating a Buy Nothing Day on Black Friday is childish, like refusing to go to Church on Easter Sunday to spite your parents.

For 364 days of the year, modern life is filled with advertising and consumer-oriented talk, especially online.    Ninety percent of the internet — and YOUR BLOGS and conferences — seems to be about buying, selling, marketing, and promoting, either a product, some swag,  some friend’s book, some giveaway, each other, or your services.

So I like Buy Nothing Day.  But why not make it on March 2 or August 25?  Because by making it on Black Friday, the concept gets publicity — and in the modern world that is more important than creating real change.  It doesn’t surprise me that a performance artist is involved in this project, and he is able to get his own name in the newspapers.  Why not make this “day” into something REAL — an event that the public can truly participate in — rather than a nose tweak?

It is Christmas time.  The best deals of the Holiday season are in the stores this weekend.  Sure Black Friday is ridiculous, with stores opening up at 4AM, and giving special deals to those who show up in their pajamas.  But money is tight.  Why shouldn’t consumers be shopping now?  If there is ONE DAY they should be shopping is NOW!  There are some stores that make 70% of their profits during the shopping days before Christmas.

And with the economy spiralling out of control, what could be better for our neighborhoods than doing a little shopping in our local stores?  Who does it help when the stores close down in our neighborhoods?  Isn’t it bad when people lose jobs and the crime rate increases?  How does this day make me ponder the rampant consumerism of our country?  The performance art aspect of the stunt makes me want to go out and support the economy so my neighborhood can improve.

I would have more sympathy for this day if it was somehow connected with the commercialism of Christmas.  But this protest has nothing to do with wanting to bring religion back to the Holidays.  It is just anti-consumerism — using the same advertising-driven media to promote itself.

I love the idea of Buy Nothing Day.  I think it should be moved to its own date.  Then it would be ABOUT SOMETHING, and not a publicity stunt.  If it was on less confrontational date, everyone can participate, and we could all ponder a less consumer-oriented America.

Good luck to all of those protesting.   If you are participating, please remember to take off your BlogHer advertising tomorrow promoting JCPenney.

(by the way, if you see any good deals for digital cameras online, please email me!)

And the Blogger’s Arts and Crafts fair is still open for business.  Buying handmade is cool, too.

Talking “Green” with My Mother and Her Friend, Laura

I had lunch on Sunday with my mother and Laura, the friend who went with my mother on the recent Alaskan cruise.   I hadn’t seen Laura in a while. She was the one who made the arrangement for the trip.

Neil:  Did you enjoy the Alaskan cruise?

Laura:  Wonderful.

Neil:  What was your favorite part?

Laura:  Everything.

Neil:  I think Mom liked the food the best!

Mom:  Ha Ha.  You’re right!

Neil:  When my mother came back, I asked her to tell me all about Alaska, and she spent most of the time talking about the food.

Mom:  It was too much, even for me. You could eat 24 hours a day, even at midnight.  This man at our table would order three entrees every night — meat, chicken, lobster.  That’s just not healthy.

Laura:  I tried to limit myself.

Mom:  Me, too.  I still put on ten pounds.  From now on, I’m good. 

Laura:  There were plenty who were a lot worse than us.

Mom:  Remember when that woman from Seattle came to the table with a big tray of ten desserts, and I thought, “How nice. She’s bringing one for everyone at the table,” and then we found out that they were all for her!”

Laura:  She would have slapped you if you went near her dessert.  People went crazy with the food.

Neil:  Mom said the glaciers weren’t as impressive as in the brochure. 

Mom:  They looked more like rocks with snow on them.

Laura:  Well, it was that time of year.

Neil:  It was funny how on the Princess Cruise website, they show the ship sailing between what look like the icebergs from the Titanic movie.

Mom:  They also never show you the five OTHER cruise ships that are there at the same exact time you are.

Laura:  But it was a lot of fun.  We played some trivial games with some other passengers.  Some never even left the ship!

Elaine:  We loved this train ride up… where was this…?

Laura:  I don’t remember.  It was nice.

Elaine:  And the entertainment was Las Vegas quality.  Maybe not the Belaggio quality, but one of the lesser casinos.

Neil:  Did you see any whales?

Mom:  That was funny.  One day, they said “Whale on the right side,” on the loudspeaker, so everyone ran — and all you could see was a fin.

Neil:  On the website, they show whales jumping out of the water and eating snacks from the hands of the passengers.  Liars.

Laura:  But it was delightful.

Elaine:  It was.  The people of Alaska are very nice.

Neil:  How many Alaskans did you meet?

Elaine:  The tour guides.

Neil:  Do you think the glaciers are smaller now because of global warming?

Laura:  I don’t believe in that Al Gore stuff.

Neil:  Why not?

Laura:  I saw another show where they said it is a natural occurence.  We had an Ice Age once before and now the weather is changing again.

Neil:  What do you think, Mom?

Mom:  I believe in global warming.  Too many cars.  Whenever I go to LA, everyone has three cars.

Laura:  I don’t believe in the whole “green” thing.

Mom:  I do, but some of it — I have to admit — is just plain stupid.

Neil:  Like what?

Mom:  Like they say, “Don’t take the plastic bag at the grocery store.  Take the paper bag.”  Now if I take the paper bag, where am I going to throw my garbage in the kitchen?  The paper bag will just fall apart.  So, then I will end up buying Hefty plastic bags to throw out my garbage, and it’ll be the exact same thing, except before – I could have gotten the plastic bags for free.  Right?

Neil:  You know, you make a good point, Mom.  I don’t know the answer to that question.

Mom:  Why don’t you write THAT on your blog?

The Cheap Web-cam

I showered.  I shaved.  I trimmed.  I combed.  I brushed.  I flossed.  I tweezed.  I washed.  I dressed, wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and those new colorful new boxer briefs I bought two days ago at Target.

I waited all morning, my new web-cam at my side.  I felt ready, confident.  I had practiced the striptease earlier in front of the mirror, moondancing to Michael Jackson’s “Thriller.”  And most importantly, I felt good about the terrific bargain I had gotten at Radio shack — a web-cam at 75% off.  Suddenly, her name popped up in Yahoo Messenger.  It was time! 

Now, have you ever read an O. Henry story, where there is a twist at the end?  

Consider this a tale of bad karma.   After bragging about my new web-cam for a week, when the time came to use it, I couldn’t even get it up and working! 

I plugged it into the USB slot, and NOTHING.  After a half hour of fiddling with the camera and the drivers, I found some online forum that told me this piece of Radio Shack/Web-Cam for Dummies crap was incompatible with Windows Vista!

Moral of the story:  Don’t be cheap in matters of the heart.  Or if you want to strip online with a web-cam, buy a Mac.

(Truth Quotient:  4%.   There is absolutely nothing true in this story except for buying this useless, incompatible  web-cam at Radio Shack.  No wonder why it was so cheap!)

This Time, It’s For the Women

The big question on my mind after yesterday’s post was “What type of pornography do women like?”  After doing extensive research and interviewing several female bloggers on Facebook chat while offering unsuccessfully to show them my new “web-cam,” I now can present the results. 

The methology used was completely scientific, and included questions such as, “What do you fantasize about when you make love to your husband?” and “What visual stimuli gives you the most intense orgasm?”

Celebrity Strollers


Elisabeth Hasselbeck with her Maclaren Stroller 
(thanks to the lovely Cheaty Monkey.  More strollers on her blog)

I hope I didn’t insult any women in the last post by questioning our special male/female friendship. 

I really do enjoy reading the blogs of women.  I learn a lot about your gender.  I’m supposed to be a writer, so it is important to get insights into the minds of women.  One day, I hope to have the ability to write a real, three-dimensional female character who doesn’t just have sex with strangers in alleyways and shoot people with the revolver she has hidden in her garter belt.

In my last post I made a joke about mommybloggers who write about celebrity strollers.  Rather than making fun of this, I might as well learn more, in case I ever have to write about this subject.  It is good to be well-rounded. 

So, tell me.  If you’re a mommy strolling down Rodeo Dr. or Fifth Avenue or Main Street with your baby in a stroller, and you meet another mother, do you actually take note of the BRAND of the stroller?!  Is it a status symbol, akin to a guy driving a Ferrari or a Hummer?  Is there that much difference in the quality of a stroller?  Would you be afraid to be seen using a stroller from Walmart?  Does one stroller fold more easier than the other?   Have any of your babies had more than one stroller, and actually preferred one over the other?


Naomi Watts and her Bugaboo stroller.

Let’s get down to my writing.

Imagine I’m trying to write an episode of some new TV show about mothers who live in, say, Pittsburgh.  The show is called Pittsburgh Mommies.

Producer:  “We need a re-write!  Bring in that Neilochka!  He KNOWS how to write women!”

My assignment:  There is a crucial scene between two mothers who meet in the park, the roles played by Jennifer Garner and Teri Hatcher (who left Desperate Housewives to star in this show).  Would something like the following sound believeable to a real mother? —

Jennifer:  Teri, how are you?  I see little Tyler is feeling better.

Teri:  Oh yes, the little munchkin is perfect.

Jennifer:  Hmmm…

Teri:  What, Jennifer?

Jennifer eyes Teri’s new stroller with jealousy in her eyes.

Teri:  Oh, I see you’ve noticed this little thing…

Teri laughs nervously.

Jennifer:  How did you get the new Bugaboo?  It hasn’t even been released to the general public yet?

Teri:  Oh, one of Michael’s clients works for the Bugaboo company.  We paid for it, of course.  Isn’t he a darling husband?  He’s always bringing me little presents.

Jennifer:  This isn’t just a little present.  This is a brand new Bugaboo.  Do you know how much this costs?

Teri:  Oh , Michael wouldn’t tell me.  He just said, as long as the baby is living in comfort — that’s all that’s important.  I mean it’s not essential to have a Bugaboo.  Your Maclaren stroller is perfectly good enough for your Sarah.

Jennifer:  What do you mean by that?

Teri:  I mean, I know Eddie has been laid off lately.  A Bugaboo is a little out of your price range.

Jennifer:  So are you saying that Tyler deserves better than Sarah?

Teri:  Of course not.  The Maclaren is an excellent stroller.  As is the Siver Cross Pram, the same one Maggie Gyllenhaal uses!  And the… It’s just that Michael…

Jennifer:  Michael!  Michael!  I’m sick and tired of hearing about your stupid husband Michael!  Maybe if you moved your eyes once in a while away from your stroller you would notice that he’s shtupping Ashley Friedman at the Hyatt Hotel every Thursday Night during your vibrator and dildo selling  party!

Teri: — You bitch.

Jennifer turns over Teri’s stroller, with the baby still inside.

Jennifer:  — I hate you!  I hate you… and your Bugaboo!

CUT TO:

INT.  PITTSBURGH HYATT – NIGHT

Lovemaking scene between Teri’s husband, Michael, and Ashley Friedman.

OK —

Mommybloggers, did this baby stroller scene ring true?   I know it did.  Thank you for letting me learn about your secret lives.

My Wii Story

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Have you guys tried Wii yet? It is totally different than any other video game. It is so much, much more! Here is my Wii story and how I got involved with the nice people at Nintendo —

I was IM-ing with a great blogging friend of mine, bragging about the 400 comments I have on that”interview” post. I know it isn’t polite to “toot one’s own horn,” but I was really feeling like someone special.

“That’s great,” said my friend. “But you realize that a blogger like Ree from “Confessions of a Pioneer Women” gets 3000 comments on some of her posts!

“3000! My God. I’m so glad for her!” I said, lying.

My friend then told me that on the particular post where she received 3000 comments, she gave away a Wii to a lucky reader in a contest. Apparently Nintendo was creating relationships with several hip sites popular with women. I think it’s great when companies explore new ways to market their products.

“I need to get on this Wii thing for MY readers,” I said, knowing the demographic of my readership, and how they would respond positively to this unique opportunity.

Now, as you know, I have this problem with putting ads on my blog, but a contest is something very different. I am a people pleaser, and nothing would make me happier than getting one of YOU a free Wii. Of course, the 3000 comments wouldn’t be bad either. Talk about a sure-fire opening line at a bar.

I contacted the Nintendo company, and I was surprised that they knew EXACTLY who I was. Apparently, they have done their research on the movers and shakers in the blogosphere.

“You’re the interview guy,” said Marci, the Nintendo marketing executive on the phone. “We know you have a large female readership.”

“Yes I do. They love me.” I said, laughing at my own immodesty.

“We’d very much like for you to do a Wii contest on your blog. We can offer you a Wii for one of your lucky readers, as well as a free Wii for you to use and enjoy.”

“That’s great. I know Sophia has been anxious to try this Guitar Hero she’s been hearing about.”

“Perfect. I’ll email you the marketing copy for the post.”

“What marketing copy?”

“Well, you can write any Wii story you’d like, and do any contest you’d like, but we’d like you to use our new catchphrase, “Wii makes you feel more alive!””

“Wii makes you feel more alive!?”

“Exactly.”

“Uh, I know it probably isn’t my place to say this, but that’s sort of boring. Don’t you think?”

“Well, our marketing department thinks…”

“Marketing department?! Ha Ha. Listen, I know you’re in marketing yourself, and I respect that, but I consider myself a “writer.” I think I can come up with something better suited to my blog.”

“Like what, for instance?”

“Well, how about this — I think this is funny, but “realistic” — “Playing with your Wii is even better than playing with your wee-wee.”

“That’s ridiculous. I don’t even understand…”

“Well, I’m using wee-wee as a playful name for a “c*ck.””

“I know what a wee-wee is, but it doesn’t seem very appropriate for Nintendo to use that as a promotional…”

“I think it will appeal to a lot of men. What I’m trying to express is — “Why sit around jerking off to porn when you can be playing virtual tennis on your Wii?””

“Wow, uh, I really don’t know what to say, I’ve worked in marketing for many years, and, to be frank, talking about masturbation isn’t… and…even if it was… we’re trying to appeal mostly to your female readers.”

“My FEMALE readers?! Hell, they masturbate more than the men! They’re masturbating ALL THE TIME. I think that’s why half of them READ my blog!   You should read THEIR blogs:  every other post is about some new vibrator!  I can only imagine what they’re doing when they come to Citizen of the Month!”

“Well, even so, your campaign wouldn’t make sense since… uh, women don’t have a wee-wee.”

“That’s true. But, wait… I have another idea. This will appeal more to the women. We get a photo of a French woman, and she lying on her bed with her hand between her legs, fantasizing, and she’s going, “Oui…Oui…, and THEN we use the catchphrase, “Playing with your Wii is even better than… Oui… Oui…””

Click.

“Hello? Hello? Marci? Are you there?”

Can you believe it? She hung up on me! What the hell is wrong with Nintendo? You give them some good ideas, and they are too “corporate” to think outside of the box. Well, screw them. Who needs a dumb Wii anyway!

Announcing, Neilochka’s contest to win a 2-1 coupon to the Olive Garden. The 3000th commenter wins!

(for gullible newcomers — truth quotient: .05%)

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month: Money

Sucking Candy

candy3.jpg 

I already told this story on Twitter, but I don’t think anyone believed me, so I’ll tell it again.

Sophia’s mother asked me to pick up two things from her supermarket:  mayonnaise and these sugar-free Werther’s candies that she likes to have while watching TV.  I drove over and stopped at the supermarket near her home.  I was unfamiliar with the layout of the store and I was in a rush.  I had an appointment later that day.  I approached a supermarket employee who was stocking boxes.  He was a young, friendly-faced, college-aged kid.

“Where can I find mayonnaise?” I asked him.

“Aisle four!  I’ll show you.”  he replied, in that cheerful California “have a nice day” supermarket voice that you would never hear in New York. 

He guided me over to the condiment section, where I found my “Best Foods” Mayonnaise.  (side note:  In New York, it is Hellman’s Mayonnaise.  In California, it is Best Foods Mayonnaise.  In New York, it is Arnold’s Bread.  In California, it is Orowheat.  In New York, it is Edy’s Ice Cream.  In California, it is Dreyer’s ice cream.  I have this personal conspiracy theory that the names were changed for the West Coast so they seem less “Jewish.” — but that’s another post)

After grabbing the mayonnaise, I thanked the stock boy.

“One more thing,” I asked.  “Do you know where I can find “sucking candies?”

He giggled nervously.  We were alone in the condiment aisle.

“What do you mean?”  He asked.

“Sucking candies!”

“Uh… the candies are in front by the register.”

“No, I don’t mean like the M&Ms.  I mean the candies you suck on.  The… HARD candies.”

He turned red faced.  At the same time, he seemed VERY intrigued.  I’m not exactly sure what was going on, but it seemed as if I had hit upon some new “code” that has replaced the hitting of feet in the bathroom stall.   He looked up and smiled, shyly.

“I’ll find it myself.”  I quickly said, stumbling over a shopping cart as I went searching for the hard candies.

A few minutes later, I was in line, ready to check out with my mayonnaise and sucking candies.  I saw the stock boy looking my way.  I held up the package of Werthers that I bought, hoping that he got the message.  He GOT the message alright, but I’m not sure WHAT that message was.  He waved good-bye to me, a wisp of hopefulness in his eyes.

When I got back home, I logged onto Twitter.

“Does anyone use the term “sucking candies?”

I was surprised that nobody had ever used the term before.  My entire family calls them “sucking candies.”  “Good and Plenty” is candy.  A Hershey’s Bar is  chocolate.  A Werther’s is “sucking candy.”  Where did this term come from and why was I the only one using it?

Last night, Ninja Poodles sent me a message.  She noticed this on Margalit‘s Twitter. 

candy2.jpg

Yeah!  I’m not alone.

Since both Margalit and I are Jewish, I wonder if “sucking candy” is a Jewish term that was changed for the West Coast.

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