Friday, October 26, 2012

Rabid Transit

This afternoon I stopped by a convenience store, and noticed a candy from my childhood which was prominently displayed across from the checkout. The fruit-flavored snack, filled with a metric ton or so of baking soda for a fizzing effect, brought back wonderful memories of my childhood.

I promise not to stumble too deeply along memory lane. I bought the candy because, after thirty-five years or so, I distinctly remembered the unique flavor made between the flavoring and the sodium bicarbonate. In fact, I remembered the fun I had breaking as many of the sugared capsules open as I could afford to buy and letting the bicarbonate rest on my tongue.

Now, after the eras of disco, eighties fashion, and that nondescript time frame called the nineties and the first new millennium decade, I felt compelled, once again, to unload twenty or so of the marvelous treat's bicarbonate yield into my aging mouth. To the uninitiated, this is an experience which must be undertaken in order to become more well-rounded.

It's amazing how much attention one can draw from doing so.

Take rush hour. Is there a better time to employ the foam from these things than when one wishes to feign road rage? Honking the horn at the guy next to you in the turning lane to let him know it was time to stop chatting with Portia about his new tube socks wasn't pleasant. It might have been, however, had I stared him down with a foaming mouth and a glare. I wondered if he would have taken out the bumper of the guy in front of him in his quest to get away from the madman with hydrophobia.

My neighbor's dog certainly didn't appreciate it. Normally, he barks and snarls at me to remind me that he's the alpha dog in his pack, not that he actually has a gang of canine buddies. I'm kind of on the large size, which doesn't quell the anxieties of a dog who weighs approximately fifteen pounds. Towering over him at over six feet induces the octaves in his yap. Being six feet, two inches and foaming at the mouth produced the highest, almost-inaudible bark my fifty-one years have ever heard. I'll tell you something else: in no way did I ever anticipate that a dog with such short legs could ever run so quickly. Seriously, they're going to have to resod a portion of the side yard here. Had the little fella been wearing a leash, I suspect that the handle could have been used for furrowing. Perhaps a better moment came when I finally stepped inside my home. Bear in mind that the active ingredient in the confection is sodium bicarbonate and that I hadn't yet eaten. The sound waves  from my very center literally peeled the paint off of the walls and gave some kid's passing car stereo a run for its money.

 Don't get me wrong. I'm not a trouble making kind of guy, but the candy brought back some wonderful memories of a carefree and happy youth. I think that's a healthy thing to visit from time to time. It's like going on a road trip to Aunt Erma's house, only without having to worry about whether or not she's going to bring up that embarrassing glue incident when you were five. 

 Experiencing a taste from the past, along with several associated memories, and bring them forward to live again in  the present, seemed like a good idea. For fewer than three dollars, I was a kid again today.

Especially, I think, after taking the "rabid transit".

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