Today, store the shelf space at my local Ralphs that had been set aside for Hostess Baseballs since March was now filled with some Halloween snack cake instead: chocolate cupcakes covered with orange frosting, called something like Hostess Booballs (not the real name, but it should be).
There were no Hostess Baseballs at Ralphs today. There were plenty of Hostess Zingers, though, which rhymes with a baseball term (“dinger”), and which used to be a product of the Dolly Madison company and therefore used to be advertised by the “Peanuts” characters! See how this all fits together?
Now, does this mean I’m supposed to fill my luggage with Zingers, or does it mean I’m supposed to show up with empty luggage if I can’t get Baseballs?
Levi: Surely you can make baseball-shaped snack cakes at home?
And you wouldn’t think of leaving home for a long trip without some Hostess Fruit Pies, would you? Especially since we’ve already discovered that Doctor Octopus, for one, is aware of our itinerary?
Come on, Jim. You’re supposed to be the good planner in this crew.
Steve: While I’m sure this will fall on deaf ears over at BRPA, maybe it’s time you guys should consider corporate sponsorship. Perhaps you can get Interstate Brands to donate a suitcase full of baseballs for your trip.
Interstate Brands Corp.
12 E. Armour Blvd.
Kansas City, MO 64111.
The phone number is (816) 502-4010.
Jim: What do fruit pies have to do with Dr. Octopus…do we keep throwing them at him until he has one in each tentacle, thus making him unable to grab us and do harm to us?
Trying to get corporate sponsorship sounds like a job for Levi.
Levi: “What do fruit pies have to do with Dr. Octopus?”
While you were reading about trains, Jim, the rest of us were rotting our minds with comic books. Rotting minds and rotting teeth go together, so Hostess advertised their fruit pies extensively in superhero comics.
Jim: See, I only read Archie comic books, which didn’t rot your mind; they taught valuable life lessons such as the fact that brunettes are more desirable than blondes. Also, one character had an eating disorder (although the only consequence of it seemed to be the endless requests by Pop for him to pay his tab at the Chocklit Shoppe), so it’s no wonder Hostess didn’t advertise their products there.
Levi: When I was young, I had an Archie comic put out by Spire, a religious publisher. In it, some of Archie’s buddies drink and drive and die, and Archie and friends (including, if I remember right, a ringer who was just in that issue (much like the dying friends) so he could spout some biblical verse.
Freaked me out and put me off Archie until adulthood. Now I can enjoy him, but when I was kid, I stayed away.
Jim: I also had a couple of the Spire Archie comics, mistakenly(?) purchased by my mother at some point. I don’t remember the specific plot lines, but apparently, all the Spire Archies were about someone dying in a car accident, but not having to worry, because they were saved.
As a kid, I mostly bought the Archie digests, not the actual comic books, because that’s what they had at Publix…sometimes in the checkout racks next to TV Guide and the Globe Mini Mags, and sometimes in the magazines/greeting cards section at the right front corner of the store. (I believe the link is to a picture of the actual Publix store I’m talking about…if not, it’s absolutely identical, although the cars in the parking lot were slightly newer in my Archie digest-buying days.)
Jason: I had one of those religious Archie comics, as well. No car accidents, but instead the gang went to Africa to do missionary work. I think they ended up building a well for a poor village.
When I read it, I wondered why Archie got so preachy all of the sudden. Thanks for clearing it up, fellas!
This box of delight was on sale at Ralphs today. (Marked at $3.79, rang up at $2.50.) The official Hostess site doesn’t seem to acknowledge its existence, so I had to take my own picture. I think it should be the Official Snack Cake of this trip.
You know, if it turns out that real baseballs have a vanilla cream center these days, it might explain a lot of things.
Jason: There’s a Hostess thrift store not too far away in Burbank. (Well, it’s probably too far away for the Chicago folks.) I should see if I can find some Baseballs there. Last time I went, I brought home a box of Chocodiles.
Levi: Wow, Hug. I hadn’t thought about Chocodiles in years.
Jim, this is like when Maggie found a stash of John Kruk folders at a dollar store: Your duty is to buy all the boxes of these that you can, then pack them in your luggage.
Steve: Levi, in case you haven’t noticed the girth of your fellow midwesterners, its not like these are hard to find.
I vote that Jim packs nothing but Hostess in his luggage and if he wants a change of clothes must go to the local thrift store for an outfit featuring the logo of home team in the town you are currently visiting. And thanks for mentioning John Kruk.
Jim: Official TSA policy: “Avoid packing food and drink items in checked baggage.” Sorry.
thatbob: Nonsense, Jim. You can (1) “avoid” packing the Hostess Baseballs in your checked luggage all day – all weekend, even! – and then, at the last minute, pack them anyway. (This is what I would do). Or you can (2) pack the maximum limit of carry-on with Hostess Baseballs, and not check any luggage. (This is what you should do.)
No excuses! No regrets!
Jason: Or, you could ship a case or 2 to Levi, and then pick them up from him and carry them in your rental car.
Steve: I think we are distilling this down to its essential meaning…
Jim is not allowed to pack any luggage for this trip unless it is filled with hostess baseballs and his diet for the entire trip must consist entirely of hostess baseballs. Now that would be a cool documentary!!
Levi: And _I’ve_ distilled Steve’s post to its essence: Steve loves to see people barf out car windows.