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Confessions of a Cereal Killer

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In one small respect, I’m a little bit like Will Rogers. He never met a man he didn’t like. I never met a cereal I didn’t like. Or nearly.

Oh, wait, I forgot about Grape Nuts. I don’t know what the late outdoorsman Euell Gibbons saw in that stuff, but I’d rather cut up tree bark and pour milk over it. Post Toasties is nothing to write home about either. A little too bland for my taste buds. Trix does me no favors either.

But other than that, cereal and I have had a lifelong love affair. I’ll eat anything from the kiddie stuff – who am I kidding, I love the kiddie stuff – to that healthy colon-blow Mueslix mixture. Just give me a bowl, some cold milk, a big spoon and get out of my way.

It obviously began as a kid, mostly on Sunday mornings. Because of church, no one had time to cook so we just threw the boxes on the table and had it at various times of the morning. Much of my childhood was spent intensely slurping cereal, reading the back of the boxes and trying to determine if sending in six box tops was worth a bathtub submarine.

It wasn’t. But having a real live record on the back of a cereal box was. We’re going back more than four decades now, but I believe it was on the back of Alpha-Bits. Doesn’t really matter but with a purchase of a certain cereal, there was a record from The Archies on the back that you cut out and put on what was once called a record player.

And, lo and behold, it worked. It might have been flimsy and gimmicky, but the lyrics from “Bang-Shang-A-Lang” and “Sugar Sugar” sounded pretty good.

And about that sugar sugar. It was on the name of half the cereals in those days: Sugar Crisp, Sugar Pops, Sugar Smacks. And what didn’t have sugar already saturated in it got plenty poured on it. Yes, Rice Krispies had that otherworldly “snap, crackle and pop” sound, but it helped if those rice kernels were floating above a milky pile of sugar.

Now, they’re called Golden Crisp, Corn Pops and Honey Smacks. But Post and Kellogg’s aren’t fooling anybody. It’s the same. Remember that singing bear? Can’t get enough of Super Sugar Crisp.

The life span of a box of cereal in our house is about 36 hours. I’ve been known to eat three bowls at once. The love of cereal didn’t end at puberty for me nor anyone else in our abode.

It works as a snack, especially at bedtime. It works when supper didn’t quite fill you up. It can work any time. Within the last week of writing this, the dog twice wanted outside to take care of business around 3 a.m. While up, I checked the cabinet. All right, Cocoa Pebbles. Here I sat at the kitchen table, at 3:15 a.m., crunching on Cocoa Pebbles and reading a magazine.

Oh, yes, Cocoa Pebbles with Fred Flintstone on the front. That’s No. 1 on my cereal list. Don’t laugh. It says on the front it’s an excellent source of Vitamin D. Also in my starting five are Lucky Charms -- the lucky hearts and green clover marshmallows are outstanding – Sug – er, sorry, Golden Crisp, and the time-honored Frosted Flakes and Frosted Shredded Wheat.

Heck, I’ll try Dora the Explorer cereal, a lightly sweetened cinnamon corn puff. But it doesn’t have to be just cereal for sixth-graders. Honey Bunches of Oats, Cranberry Almond Crunch, whatever. I’m easy.

Is there nothing better than eating all your cereal, but then having that sweet milk left over and gurgling it down from the bowl? I don’t care if I do get weird looks in restaurants.

Apparently I’m not the only one crazy about cereal. I counted 137 different kind of cereal in boxes at the neighborhood grocery store. There were 75 in the ultra-healthy Kashi counters, and 35 cheaper brands in sacks.

According to reports, the average American eats 160 bowls of cereal a year, or 10 pounds. Despite all the cereal advances, it’s still somewhat comforting to know that the No. 1 cereal sold in the U.S. is still Cheerios, created by General Mills in 1941. I counted seven different flavors of Cheerios at the store.

John Harvey Kellogg is basically the Godfather of Cereal. He more or less invented some form of a biscuit, wheat and oat cereal in 1877 for his patients. You see, he operated the Battle Creek Sanitarium. That figures. I’m insanely in love with his product.

by Jon Mark Beilue

Jon Mark Beilue is a Globe-News columnist. He can be reached at jon.beilue@amarillo.com or (806) 345-3318.