Sugar, Sugar

When I was a kid, the first record album I owned was The Archies' number one hit, “Sugar, Sugar.” I owned the 45 (single, vinyl record), learned all the lyrics, and sang it all summer long into the fall.

About the same time, Bub’s Daddy bubblegum came onto the market. That was some real life sugar. My cousins and I would walk over to Hodel’s Drugstore and spend a nickel to get the foot long, sugary sweet stick of bubble gum, mine red-hot flavored and loaded with so much cinnamon that it did feel like it set my mouth on fire. I'd ration myself small enough pieces to make that stick last a week or two before it'd get too hard to chew.

In the 60s, “sugar” was only beginning to be a bad word. We put sugar on our Corn Flakes and started buying the new sugared cereals: Frosted Flakes, Lucky Charms and good old Captain Crunch. My favorite was Sugar Rice Krinkles (sugared Rice Krispies). But sugar substitutes arrived, and with them, the sad day when sugar free gum became “the only gum my mom lets me chew” because “4 out of 5 dentists” recommended it. Plus, the orthodontist nixed bubble gum. At least our favorite cereals hung around.

Some of what people ate sounds awful and yet portion sizes were much smaller. We didn’t have jumbo size candy bars quite yet, and in my family we only had soda for Friday night dinner. We split a couple of 12-ounce bottles between five of us.

Perhaps people just needed to be more frugal or were used to being that way. We hadn't yet learned to make eating an extreme sport.

I remember afternoons at my grandmother's house when she'd give us a teatime treat like half a Pop Tart or a bit of candy. She'd have one candy bar stashed up in the cupboard, pull it out and carefully cut 1-inch portions. In that way she made one candy bar last a week for herself and my grandfather. Even in the pre-supersize era, I pushed back a face of disappointment.

So far, sugar was pretty much in its recognizable form and standing in plain sight. Prepared and processed foods didn’t have much added sugar. That came along as manufacturers reduced butter, shortening and lard and substituted them with the ‘healthier’ hydrogenated vegetable oils, quietly upping hidden sugars to add flavor. This became the food my generation raised our kids on. Time-saving and less expensive. I knew processed food wasn't as good for us, but it was a vague notion lacking in real details. I wish now I'd known what we were really eating.

Back in that year when I listened to “Sugar, Sugar” and as winter headed toward spring, we lined up for the dreaded dance unit in gym class. The pressure was on to be ready for the city-wide dance festival. Boys groaning and cracking jokes, girls grimacing and dreading the boys' sweaty palms, we paired off. For the 5th and 6th grade dance that year the district chose -- you guessed it -- “Sugar, Sugar.” Every day in gym class we faced the boys, learned the steps, repeated segments of the song over and over, kids sneering at my once-favorite, top-40s tune. By the second day, the song I loved became the song I loathed. And worse, because we practiced so much, I couldn’t get the song out of my head.

Now when real life sugar gets its hooks in me, it's like that ear worm song. When trying to cut back, sugar calls incessantly.

If I can kick it for a few days, though, including all those hidden sources, I know I'll get that sugar song out of my system. The "Sugar, Sugar" I loved as a kid, just isn't my tune any more.

~ Lee