January 18, 2007

Bubba May Like Moon Pies, but Bou Don't

There has been much talk as of late in the blogo-o-phere about snack cakes. Eric started it HERE and then Elisson chimed in HERE (make sure you hit that whip it out link. Good stuff.).

First, I don’t do snack cakes. I can’t. I like to bake too much, I love to bake too much, and I love the taste of homemade. But also, most of those snack cakes have this white goop in the middle that is just… nasty. Its half life must be 10,000 years (to exaggerate as Bones might) and as most of you know, I don’t do whipped cream. That crap in the middle of the snack cakes is a distant cousin to whipped cream, therefore my body will not ingest.


My kids don’t do snack cakes either, although all of them love whipped cream. They have just been amazingly spoiled by my baking, I guess. Trust me, I tried to be the good Mom and let them eat those preservative laden treats in their lunches, just so they could be like the other kids. Even I, who hate all that is filled with crème, remember kids at school being excited that their Moms had packed them Moon Pies or Ding Dongs or Snoballs, the 2nd most disgusting thing I’ve ever eaten in my life, or… Twinkies, the single most horrific thing I’ve taken a bite of in my entire life… beating out the Rocky Road ice cream my dear old grandmother accidentally scarred me with when I was but a wee lass, turning me off permanently to marshmallows, whipped cream, and all that is white and squishes. So keeping OTHER children’s love in mind, I have bought treats for my children only to hear, “Um, Mom, can you bake brownies instead?” or “Mom, don’t pack those anymore please” or “Mom… can I have a fruit roll up instead?”

They choose the plastic preservative fake fruit over the cream filled delicacies of most people’s youth.

Go figure.

I don’t do gummy anything or fruit roll ups either. It doesn’t invoke the gag reflex… I just think they taste nasty and I hate how they stick in my teeth. And I don’t eat rubber.

I digress.

So I have two cake-ish stories for you. The first happened just this past Thanksgiving. As Elisson pointed out in his post, if you go to Philly, Tastykakes are what they’re called.

And he’s right.

When we were in Philly this past Thanksgiving, we saw those signs everywhere. We were in the van, on our way to their GREAT zoo, my 12 year old nephew in the back with my boys, and I was reading billboards when I said to no one in particular,

“What in the world is a Tasty… kahhh… keeeh? Tastykahkeh?”

As if it were Hawaiian. Or if I didn’t really know how to read. Or perhaps they don’t know how to frickin’ spell.

My nephew replied, “That would be… Tasty CAKE.”

Me: Oh.

I’m telling you, I have never in my life seen snack treats advertised like the Philadelphians advertise their Tastykahkeh. Never. Drive through the south and you don’t see big old honkin’ billboards saying, “MOON PIES!” or better yet, “BUBBA LOVES MOON PIES, MOON PIES, MOON PIES, BUBBA LOVES MOON PIES!”

(Inside joke or does everyone know that song?)

Anyway, you don’t. And if you come down here where we don’t have TastyKahkeh, instead we have Entenmanns… you know that only because as you walk through Publix to get to the fruits and vegetable section, you know, the section without the preservatives, you have to walk WAYYYYY AROUND the Entenmann section.

That’s the only way you know.

And all this brings me to my best memory of these commercial mass produced treats, the treats that if you eat enough, I strongly suspect you can forgo embalming upon your death. I’m hoping my best buddy from high school, PFB, is reading this. I’m wondering if she will remember this story.

PFB and I were in band together. And before any of you think, “Band Geek”, step off. We WERE THE best band in the Nation, marching band that is, and marched over 200 strong. Close to 250 if I recall. Drum and Bugle Corp (DCI) instructors would come and help our color guard and drum lines in their off seasons… we ate doses of tapes of Phantom Regiment, Madison Scouts, and the Blue Devils. When we weren’t practicing, that’s what our band director was watching.

We were good, very good, and we slept ate and breathed with our instruments, practicing in the summers and for 3 hours a day after school… every day… even with football games on Fridays. As our band director used to say, ‘We are NOT a hot dog band!” meaning, people didn’t get up to get a hot dog during half time when we came on.


There were people who would come to our football games to watch our band. “The Show Band of the South” we were called and in our 5A high school, band reigned damn near hand in hand with football, which is a big thing considering in the South, football rules.

I played flute and my senior year piccolo, which was great as I carried it in my back pocket. PFB played Alto Sax. She didn’t carry hers in her pocket.

Now every now and then, things got rowdy. We’re talking high school kids here, and even though our band director put the fear of frickin’ GOD into all of us, hearing him shout your name would make one’s knees weak and feel the bile rise in one’s throat in cold fear, and even though he ruled also with a very big paddle he had no problems using on the very active high school boys, when he wasn’t around… we were still kids and kids will be kids.

I just remember being in the band hall. We were in regular clothes, so it was a band practice. Our band director wasn’t out yet, holed up in his office, and we were cleaning the hall. As I said, we were kids, so the hall occasionally got trashed and every now and then he’d step out and tell us we had to clean up… usually on a day off.

I remember we were all laughing and screwing around, the drummers being drummers, which if you were in band, you know what I’m talking about, and the girls were laughing and carrying on and the tubas… well… they were their normal hysterical boisterous selves.

Our buddy Tommy, who stood 6’4 at least, tall lean wiry country boy, as sweet as the day is long, was our lead Tuba… I believe probably from our sophomore year on… he was good, decided the tubas had to be cleaned. Come to think of it, I think it was a Monday after a football game and band season was over.

He picked up that tuba, as only Tommy could, and tipped it over and out fell coins, candy, M&Ms.

Of course that stopped many of us to watch.

He picked up the next one and out fell the same… coins, candy… M&Ms.

And then he picked up the last one. Damn. It must’ve been spring. It had to have been… Concert season, which was why were so relaxed. We must’ve been coming off of a parade that weekend. (Love how I blog and think out loud?)

He picked up the last tuba, dumped it over and out fell… coins, candy, M&Ms and… a frickin’ Moon Pie.

Of course we were all singing “Bubba loves Moon Pies” after that. No clue how that moon pie ended up there, but I strongly suspected the drum line had something to do with it.

So now whenever someone mentions any type of commercial cakes, I think of Moon Pies, a hit during Mardi Gras in the South, and in turn I immediately envision Tommy deftly picking up that last Tuba, tipping it over… only to see a Moon pie drop out.

I miss those days.

Posted by Boudicca at January 18, 2007 10:26 PM | TrackBack

Hey, flute player, finish this sentence:
"This one time, at band camp..."

::runs away ducking thrown Moon Pies::

Posted by: Roses at January 18, 2007 11:58 PM

Roses- the funny thing is, I don't think Bou has ever seen that movie.

I remember that story- Did they play with all of that shit in their Tuba's? How often did they clean them out?

Posted by: morrigan at January 19, 2007 10:51 AM

Phantom Regiment, eh?

They are from my area... never did see them, but a couple of kids in our band were members. Put the rest of us to serious shame.

Posted by: t1g at January 19, 2007 05:18 PM

***never did see them***

Hence, the name. Bwahahahahahaha!

Posted by: Toluca Nole at January 19, 2007 05:55 PM

This is really funny because I know who you are talking about.

Were you playing the year a rival team let a pig on the field during your homecoming show? I think you would have been a Junior that year. That was funny watching it wander around through the band. It was smuggled in there in a tuba case. Yes, I have inside information and I'm an eye witness. VWBug might remember this incident, too.

Of course being rival schools yours had to retaliate. We came to school one morning and the pig's head was strung up our flag pole. What else would an Ag school do but slaughter the creature. Oh, it gets better.


They put the pig head in the biology teacher's classroom freezer before Christmas Break. We came back to class after the holidays and the whole school stunk to high heavens. Someone had unplugged the freezer during that 2 week period.

Posted by: sticks at January 19, 2007 06:25 PM

Dang - I don't remember hearing about any of that!

Posted by: Mrs_Who at January 20, 2007 10:23 PM

Roses- yeah, i didn't see the movie. ;-)

Mo- I don't know. I think they played with some of that stuff... but not the Moonpies. I actually think they ended up in there later.

T1G- Yup, your end of the world! They were awesome... very dedicated kids.

Sticks- That happened in Fall of '79. I was a freshman. I think they released teh pig during the crowning of our Homecoming Queen... I think that's the game we played y'all! The band always played and then stopped while the Homecoming Queens was crowned... and then the pig. I had no idea about the after events though! Heh!

Posted by: Bou at January 20, 2007 10:57 PM

"PFB played Alto Sax. She didn’t carry hers in her pocket."

Hahaha thanks for the image there!!!!

Ahh, band memories... they are THE BEST memories I have of my school days. Even now, as an adult, I still giggle when people chat about SPAM.

Moon Pies in the tuba?? Why didn't I ever think of that? Oh yeah... *remembering*... cause the tuba players were big and scary, and I was small and quiet.

Posted by: Jana at January 21, 2007 03:12 PM

It'd be really scary to blow out the spit valve on that tuba and get...that naysty cream filling. Yeef!

Posted by: Elisson at January 22, 2007 02:12 AM