I spent the day obsessed with baggage. My baggage. My friends' baggage. The baggage of people I don't know. Everyone's baggage.
And I couldn't wait to write all about baggage. To unleash the flood of baggage mania in my brain. It wasn't even actual writing that I needed to do. Really, all I needed was to get my hands on a keyboard and input the words...the mass of thoughts was already organized and artfully phrased in my head. I just needed a little bit of word processing time.
And then I saw the pudding.
Actually, I didn't see the pudding.
I didn't see the vanilla pudding.
I saw chocolate pudding. Dark chocolate pudding. Light chocolate pudding. Chocolate swirl pudding. Chocolate swirl with strawberries, tapioca and peach mango creme topped with more strawberries pudding.
I saw a whole lot of weird pudding.
But no vanilla.
And I wondered if I was the only dork who loves vanilla. What's wrong with me that I still pine for vanilla? What's wrong with me that I'm not turned on by all the wannabe-pudding puddings?
Strawberry-banana pudding? What's THAT about!
So, anyway, I'm standing in the cold aisle, pondering pudding, and a stock guy asks if I'm lost.
Or something like that.
And I ask the stock guy what happened to vanilla pudding. I ask him why people don't eat vanilla pudding anymore.
"Did you check Aisle 4?"
Did I check Aisle 4? Why would I check Aisle 4 when I'm standing in the cold aisle looking at masses of pudding?
"There's vanilla pudding in Aisle 4"
So me and my funky beaded stilettos click clack over to Aisle 4. And, sure enough, that's where the vanilla pudding is. Lots of vanilla pudding.
At first I was indignant that vanilla had been segregated from the other flavors. Segregated from the hipper flavors. But then I realized that there was some chocolate sharing the shelf with the vanilla.
Ebony and ivory. Perfect harmony. Blah blah blah.
I was confused. Why did pudding warrant two locations? Milk has just one location. Feminine products? One location. Cat food? One location. How important is pudding?
I used to know snacks pretty well. I used to obsess about the marketing of snacks. I used to be totally up on why people would buy low fat and fat free snacks even though they have three times the amount of sugar.
But then I became consumed with other important topics and lost the brain space necessary to study consumption.
And so it was that tonight I was left on my own to figure out the pudding scam. No additional input from the munchie wonks on this dilemma. Just me. And a great pair of funky beaded stilettos.
And I figured it out.
Apparently, pudding has baggage.
Apparently, pudding's not that cool of a snack. At least not plain vanilla and plain chocolate. Not the flavors I grew up with and grew happily fat on.
So, what did those smart munchie marketers do? They put the boring pudding in the boring aisle for boring people. Like me.
That's the boring marketing strategy (BMS).
And they put the hip, suave, juicy, Gap-flavored pudding in the cold aisle where the string cheese hipsters go. That's the string cheese marketing strategy (SCMS).
What a scam!!
Basically, whether you're boring or hip, you are SO buying pudding.
Poor pudding. All of this two-aisle hullabaloo just because pudding has baggage.
But pudding's baggage isn't bad baggage. Pudding's just got a history of being kind of down home. Kind of old fashioned. Kind of like the snack served by older folks who drink tea. Well, the older folks who drink the old kind of tea. Not those new chi tazo green zen cool teas that hipsters drink.
So pudding has baggage. Pudding is old fashioned. Pudding's a has-been. Pudding's a shoe-in for celebrity boxing. Pudding vs. granola.
But it's not pudding's fault. Pudding used to be something really great that's just not valued as highly anymore. But pudding always meant well.
And that kind of baggage is okay.
I have baggage, of course. Luis Vuitton. Matched set.
And my friends all have baggage. As does my family. And god knows I've met some very well intentioned guys who had some baggage.
Or shall we just call it big &$!*@ luggage?
But most of the baggage seems okay. Most of the baggage we can live with.
So you dated someone who still sends you cards and letters from prison (along with the occasional appeal for mailing to the court). Did you put some extra locks on your door? That's a manageable situation.
So you grew up in a family where your nickname was "stupid pig-face idiot." Are you taking active steps to rebuild your self-esteem? That's a manageable situation.
So you owe your next twenty years earnings, your firstborn child and your domain name to Bloomingdales. Are you making regular payments? That's a manageable situation.
I guess the question is where you got the baggage and what your response has been to carrying around that heavy load.
Some of us just have carry on baggage. A small, relatively lite satchel which is, nonetheless, a pain in the butt and a constant reminder of some mistake we made when we were a little less wise and a little less old. That baggage, although generally met with the eye roll of inconvenience, is usually accepted without major complaint.
And, of course, some of us have a little more baggage. Our baggage is clunky and heavy and has to be checked everytime we travel somewhere. And each time, someone has to look through it and make their own determination as to whether the baggage conforms to appropriate traveling standards or whether it's dangerous and must be banned.
Some of that baggage - maybe even most of it - ends up being manageable. But it's a fact that the bigger the suitcase, the more intensive the investigation. You get that bag back and nothing's where it was. Technically, you got everything back. But somehow your stuff seems invaded having been looked at so closely. And judged.
And, of course, some of us have baggage that just screams for the sniffing dogs.
Looks like you'll need Spot and Rover for this one.
"Well, I don't know, boss...everyone has baggage...."
"Yes, that's true, son. But notice this particular piece of baggage has been investigated before. And dangerous contraband has been found in this baggage before. I realize that this particular passenger is on a new and supposedly better journey, but still, the odds of finding dangerous contraband are always higher where dangerous contraband was found previously."
Hhhhmmmm....dangerous contraband.
Maybe there's dangerous contraband in your baggage.
Yeah. Maybe someone put something dangerous in your baggage when you weren't looking. Or when you weren't really thinking straight. Or when you were being dependent or vulnerable or love blind.
But what about the person who packed his or her own bags?
What about the person who knowingly packed the bag full of dangerous contraband so that it would clearly violate the normal and standard rules of safe travel?
Everyone has baggage. I know that.
But not everyone has manageable baggage. Or acceptable baggage. Or baggage that will be allowed on your flight.
The question is: when the baggage looks suspicious, how much time do you spend investigating? And, while the baggage is being investigated, is the passenger allowed to get on the flight anyway?
And, while we're at it, isn't there anybody out there besides me who just wants plain old vanilla pudding without bells, whistles or peach mango bows?