Friday, May 30, 2008


The blue box. Who doesn't love it?

7.25 ounces of America in a tidy, cardboard package. A pre-fab 'MRE' for the masses. In dry-storage stasis, ready for use when the proper moment arrives. A cheap meal for palates trained by Wonder Bread, Bazooka gum, and Budweiser beer.

You'll earn no style points for consuming this off-the-shelf concoction. Still, it has a delectable character that transcends reason. College students, blue-collar laborers, and retirees dependably tout it's magical ability to nullify hunger. The Blue Box will rock your socks off... just ask the Cheeseasaurus.

When I worked at Channel 13 in the 1970's, this was my dinner of choice. After long hours of video production, I would bust into a box at home, for sustenance. Mixed with hamburger or bacon, chopped peppers, onions, and whatever the refrigerator yielded, it always tasted right.

Okay, this habit of grubbing out on the Blue Box probably helped to aggravate my personal tendencies toward carb intolerance and weight excess. But it filled the need when it needed to be filled. And at a bargain price. I literally grew up on this staple item from the Kraft line of food products.

Did the Box help make Harley-Davidson motorcycles, Mosrite guitars, The Ramones, Hunter S. Thompson, and John Belushi more appealing during those formative years? I can't be certain of that...

But I can hope.


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