Ode to the Jellybean It's jellybean time!
I was at grocery store buying mundane items such as detergent when I passed an aisle that had baskets, egg coloring kits, and candy with pastel colored packages. I didn't need anything in that aisle, but the wheels are the cart just happened to turn so that I was strolling down the "seasonal" items.
I'm a sucker for candy. Chocolate is my favorite. Sweet tart candy also ranks high in my book. I have been known to buy things like Wacky Wafers and Pixie sticks because they remind me of candy I ate as child.
Now that it is Easter, the stores are filled with yummy chocolate bunnies and sweet tasting jellybeans. I really don't desire jelly beans at any other time of the year, but just before Easter, I can't pass them up.
As a child, I only remember one kind of jellybean; they were basically tasteless. The only ones with flavors were the licorice ones. Today, the assortment of jellybeans boggles one's mind. My favorites are the ones that are really fruity tasting.
There is an art to eating jellybeans. One just doesn't throw a handful of them into a mouth. They need to be laid out, so that the colors can be viewed. Eating two or three at a time is realistic. It's best to chew on the same colors at the same time. I always start with the colors that I dislike the most. The red ones, which I always assume, are a berry flavor and the green ones (hopefully green apple) are left for last. If a handful of mixed beans are carelessly thrown in the mouth, one can not experience the potent flavor of each color. It would be like eating the bland jellybeans of childhood.
I only like jellybeans fresh from the bag. After Easter, jellybeans lose their appeal. Stale jellybeans with fake plastic grass stuck to it; just doesn't make my mouth water. It makes my eyes water because there is a jellybean that has not lived up to its potential. So although, I like a good jellybean; my children receive the tasteless jellybeans for their Easter baskets. Until they can appreciate the richness found in the simple jellybean, they will have to be satisfied with a facsimile of a real jellybean.
Somehow, as I walked down the pastel hued aisle, a bag of jelly beans jumped right into my cart. Somehow, the bag ended up in my desk drawer, and mysteriously opened. Even more odd, is that a plastic clip keeps the bag closed, thus ensuring the freshness of the jelly bean. Several times a day, I find jelly beans laying on my desk. Oh well, I will just have to help them fulfill their life's mission, and eat them.
March 5, 2000
©Jacqueline M. Carey
careyj@interaccess.com- Jackie's Homepage