Some of Life's Meaning is Lost

http://moneyland.time.com/2012/01/10/hostess-maker-of-twinkies-to-file-for-bankruptcy/
Hostess is filing for Chapter 11. 

Bang the drum slowly and summon all ye couch potatoes to pay homage to a food group that shall be no more: the preserved completely unhealthy no matter what you do sweet that's cheap, not gourmet, not cool and decidedly lazy eating.

Do you understand that there shall be no more Ho-hos, no more fruit pies or Hostess cupcakes or snowballs or mini-muffins or Twinkies? 

There is something wrong with a world that does not have instant bad fat/calorie gratification wrapped in a wax paper packaging.   Part of the fault lies with hauteur cupcakes shops. How can yellow plastic cake with frozen flat frosting compete with fondant Tiramisu salt caramel even if you could buy ten of the former for a mere one of the later?

So I'm composing an ode to the lost snack that nevermore shall accidentally grace the incidental picnic lunch, the fishing expedition or the road trip through long spans of the country where gas stations are the only source of nutrition.  We shall be reduced to slim jims and porkrinds and Stuckey's pecan rolls if you want a touch of the vanishing generational type snack that kids always claim they hate but eat in a fit of nostalgia when they become adults.  We shall be sophsticated Starbucky McNugget nation with nary a place that serves anything with so many preservatives it could out live us. All foods hence shall be FDA approved.  For shame. 

Shall there be a Taps for Twinkies?  Will children purchase old comic books and wonder at the confections being showered on villains that stop them in their tracks while Batman and Robin shake hands over a fruit pie?  What were these delicious things that could stop larceny from the likes of the Joker?  No one ever believed the Dolly Madison versions of these things advertised by the Peanuts gang were better.  After all, if you can't believe Superman and the Fantastic Four, who can you trust?

So I blame edgy comic books for this failure. 

Will future generations puzzle at the Ghostbusters when they "tell them about the Twinkie?" 

Perhaps the company should have put some of those preservatives in its stock, so that it too, would last generations beyond the expiration date.  Perhaps it is a sign that it is 2012 and the Mayans knew something we didn't.  Perhaps someone left the cake out in the rain. 

Who weeps for the deep fried twinkie?  Who mourns the opportunity to have ding-dongs at a rollerskating birthday party instead of dealing with messy cutting cake.  Alas. Alas.  A piece of childhood is succumbing to the economics of adulthood.  Raise your cut carrots and fantasize about the sugar that has been sucked out of our lives.  Cry if you must.  I take solace of sorts in knowing, some of the pounds I sport still linger from these confections, so adieu Hostess! My scale shall remember you.

But I'm stockpiling my oreos, just in case they're next.