Here’s the deal. Each time I create a blog entry, I wonder how many people will share in my distaste for the subject matter. This time, I fear no one will relate. But I’m going to say it anyway. I don’t care for popcorn.
My number one problem – the hull. As a child, when I was ruthlessly peer-pressured into eating this snack at the movie theater, every single time I would get pieces of the hull stuck in my throat. Then, like a cat with a hairball, I’d choke my way through the last hour of Soul Man. No food is worth having some plant husk clinging to my uvula.
That’s right, popcorn ruined C. Thomas Howell for me.
Plus, it doesn’t even taste that good. It’s like Styrofoam packing material…with butter. Think about it, if popcorn was so great, why do we have to coat it in salt, cover it in butter, drown it in caramel? It can’t survive on its own.
And, on top of that, I don’t trust popcorn. You’ve got this small, hard, yellow kernel and you turn your back for one second…and it turns into a lumpy, white, fluffy fellow. It’s gotten bigger and yet weighs less – is that even scientifically possible? What is popcorn trying to hide? What is its agenda? Why does a container of this mysterious treat that’s worth about nineteen cents cost twelve dollars?
It litters the floors of movie theaters and stadiums. It pops incessantly in office microwaves across the country, filling workplaces with its deceptive aroma. It haunts my dreams. (Okay, that last one’s not true, but I couldn’t think of a third thing that it does).
And, lastly, it makes me feel like a pariah. (Oh, I guess that’s the third thing). Because I’m the only one that doesn’t like it. Just me. Not another human being on the planet. So, explain it to me, people. What’s so great about taking out a second mortgage to buy a bucket of mini butter sponges that leave hulls clinging to the back of your throat like stranded rock climbers?
So, how am I going to do it? How will I navigate this maddening maize maze? I can only try and talk reason. Come on people, if you want some corn – get it on the cob. That way you can pretend like you’re an old fashioned typewriter as you eat. So much fun. Go crazy, get it creamed. Or, enjoy your corn in flake form. Heck, try some ketchup, aluminum, spark plugs, shaving cream, crayons, whiskey or shoe polish…all of which are made (to some degree) with good, old corn. But I, for one, am saying no to popcorn. Don’t try and make me consume this overrated snack…I won’t eat it…not a chance in hull.