The Times, They Are A-Channnnngin'

Some days, I just feel really old.



I just re-read the above statement and think that, actually, it's not precise. I don't feel old. I know I'm not old. However, some days, I am keenly aware of the passage of time. James Taylor sings that the secret of life is enjoying the passage of time, and perhaps that is true, but there are days when I feel like tracking Time down and kicking his sneaky ass.


Here's what brought this on. I was at Target the other day with Flinkie and we were standing in the middle of the Big Christmas Extravaganza when I had a flash to my younger self at Christmas time. Every year, my mom's friend Leona would give my sister and I Lifesavers StoryBooks.

They were AWESOME.

First, they were shaped like a book! Second, TEN ROLLS OF LifeSavers! Third, the flavours! Cherry. The original Five Flavours. Wintergreen. Peppermint. And Butter Rum.



(if you have no idea what I'm talking about right now? Go here: www.candywarehouse.com/lifesavers-christmas-storybook.html )


It was a book of JOY. My sister and I loved them.


Right then in Target I thought: I have to have one. I've had the Christmas Blues, I've been a little Grinchie, and I need me some Lifesavers.


Thus the quest began. Because, like everything else I decide I must have ... they were nowhere to be found.


Apparently, the StoryBook idea has taken off, and there's a whole line of Wonka candies available in a book. Laffy Taffy. Sweet Tarts. Lik-em-aid (which, seriously, how that works in the fun book box, I have no idea). Then I stumbled across LifeSavers GUMMIES in a Storybook, but my childhood self stared at my adult self and said, sternly, If you buy that, I will harm you. Gummies? Get serious.


I was thinking about giving up (or going to Walmart, because it's across the street) when I spied them. The familiar red box with Santa on the front, eyes twinkling, delicious, glorious, hard candy Life Savers inside. The StoryBook! It was mine! For a mere $2.99! My Christmas memories were restored!


Well, they were SORT of restored.


There used to be 10 rolls of Lifesavers in the book -- five rolls on each side. Now there are six rolls, total. Which seemed weird to me, but then I thought, my sad slow adult metabolism doesn't need ten rolls of LifeSavers. So not a big deal.


There used to be five different kinds of flavour options. Now there are three.


This was when I felt sort of like an old person describing her youth to a young whippersnapper "You see, sonny boy, in MY day we had all sorts of flavours! None of this original, cherry, and tropical nonsense! We had two kinds of MINT! WE HAD BUTTER RUM! You kids ... you have no idea what you're missing ..."


Because I do miss them. I miss the minty goodness (and the spark in the dark!) of the wintergreen. I miss the icy, frozen mouth sensation of the pepp-0-mint. I miss the warm, almost toffee gloriousness of the butter rum.


But it's more than that, isn't it?

Of course it is.


We miss things -- like the LifeSavers StoryBook, a beloved stuffed animal, a favorite swimming hole -- not because we loved the thing so much, though I suppose that sometimes we do. It's because we love what we associate with the things, isn't it? It's because we adored the person who gave us the book, who we were when we received that stuffed animal, who we were holding hands with when we jumped into the water. We invest the thing with the meaning, so it's more than simply a silly box of candy... and when we go back as an adult, in a different time of life, isn't it always disappointing? The lake where you had your adventures is revealed as a tiny pond. The stuffed animal that featured in your stories is a sad, one-eyed bear. The box of candy that seemed like such a treasure is just a cardboard shell filled with the wrong flavours and missing the secret ingredient which made all of those things magical.


As my friend Annie told me one day, in a near-whisper: "The secret ingredient is LOVE."


Without the secret ingredient, it's just a box of candies that some marketing guru has reworked until it little resembles my childhood memories, making me feel ... keenly aware of the passage of time.


However, I did have a happier thought. When my nephew is old enough to have candy, I'm getting him one of these. Every year ... and I will make sure that it is full of the secret ingredient. Some childhood memories are too sweet not to pass on.