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Goodbye Twinkies

Back and forth the saga goes. The price gouging and the laments of those who wish their childhood would live forever, please the folks cry, "Not the Twinkie!" In essence I should or could be one of those people to cringe. My lunchbox included those yellow, creamy bits of sugary deliciousness. I have that same soft spot in my subconscious for a food I gave up a long, very long time ago. I feel more sorrow for the workers losing work right now than I do for the loss overall. I'm not into nostalgia that kills and Twinkies are no longer a part of the world we need to hold onto. We don't need Ding Dongs and other things either. Yes, we might like them, but really, will the creamy, chocolatey, world of refined sugar have a large gaping hole in it without these products? No, really, the world of confections will turn without these Hostess products, and ultimately, that's for the best.

Yes, an American company is going away, but maybe this will create an opportunity for smaller, more localized baking companies to swoop in and take up the business. They in turn will employ people who know a thing or two about baking and assembly lines. The death of Hostess can legimiately make a person wistful, but expecting the world to stay the same or wishing it to is the same as hoping that nothing in your life will ever, ever, change. Nostalgia is acceptable as a gut level reaction, however it is not a way forward.

Sequel culture is a phenomena we're steeped in. It's where the things we love must survive and must be expanded to the detriment of newness simply so our sense of stability remain intact. It's a byproduct of legacy obsessions and the dynastic elements of our collective pop culture. We love to hate on the Bush family or maybe the Kennedys, but heaven help our imaginations without the touchstones of sameness. Like or hate Madonna, her daughter already brought you a clothing line and her spiritual daughter Brittney Spears dominates the selling of pop music and fuels paparazzi-tabloid intrigues. We have a love of sequel that borders on pathological.

Twinkies and hydrogenated sweet goods have no hold on me because a long time ago I decided not to eat foods which were processed. Do I feel superior? No, I feel adaptive. I feel like I'm living in the now. I'm not so different than millions of others who don't want to be an obesity statistic. I prefer to eat local and to eat baked goods from people I know. They're not necessarily more expensive, and if they are just a little more so, that's OK, because it forces me to savor each bite of whatever heavenly thing I'm eating.

I'm sorry to everyone experiencing emotional angst over the loss of a food they remember from their childhood, but ultimately, isn't it time American food consumption and food production practices grew up? Hostess executives taking huge sums of money from the corporate coffers is an important part of the story that highlights my sense that a good riddance send off is in order for this cake and its family. It's a new day, one where local goods baked by local people using better ingredients need to spring up. Then one or two of those local endeavors will take a lead and maybe go big. Then they'll take the place of Twinkies as tomorrow's nationally beloved baked good.

Goodbye Twinkie, I loved you. I celebrate you and I'm ever so happy to see you go, since I'm ever so bored of the status quo.