Despite German company, Haribo making their first gummy bear in 1922, they didn’t hit the US market until the 80s. I assume that it must have been even later getting to the UK, which explains why I don’t recall them being here when I was growing up.
When I was young, I thought that it was only kids that ate sweets. Adults were WAAAAAY beyond all those sugary jellies. Chocolate; sure, chocolate was different because there were obvious degrees of something like choco-sophicstication… Which explained how it was that whilst we kids dribbled and drooled over Milky Bars and Animal Bars, the grown ups could nibble sensuously on a Cadbury’s Flake and eat things like After Eights in a bubble bath.
So it is, that nearing 40, I am still waiting for that crucial, transitional moment, when I can look at a strawberry shoelace, or a bag of Tangfastics, with a sense of disgust.
Deep down, I just want to be a grown up with a penchant for 80% cocoa, fairtrade, dark chocolate made from hand selected beans grown in sustainable developments in deepest darkest Ecuador. Instead, I go mad for a jelly fried egg, and sometimes crave a cola bottle.
Now. apologies for ending a lighthearted post on a downer, but in keeping with the confessional nature of my H post, I must admit that I can rarely allow myself the delights of any of it, as my choices nowadays are generally (and spitefully) governed by Anorexia Nervosa. Bastard illness.
If your default state of mind involves a relentless drive towards perfection.
If the eye flinching, wincing, mincing voice of piercing criticism carries through veins and synapses
If your head is bent and darkened by the brightness of those around you
If you cannot bear the bird that longs to nestle in your palm, for fear that it will turn and peck your sockets hollow
If your thoughts are spurs and feelings, whips that lash your saddened soul
and your mind set is a thirst that’s only quenched by a glass half full
then hear the call and heed it
Rebel against your own state of mind.