Half Baked

Yo, Ding Dong, man. Ding Dong. Ding Dong, yo!

It’s been a rough 24 hours or so, since news broke of the national crisis. I thought I’d share my own story, in the hope that it might be instructive and, dare I say, inspirational to others.

7:30 a.m. While doing my morning Facebook perusal before taking the kids to school, notice several friends have changed their profile pictures. One is a cupcake with that white spiral looping across it. Another is a pack of Ding Dongs. Assume it’s one of those FB trends like replacing a picture of yourself with a picture of your favorite superhero, or your own mom, or the movie star you delusionally think looks like you. Decide to pass on “Be Your Favorite Snack Cake” Day.

8 a.m. After getting kids off to school, notice several stories on Twitter about closure of Hostess bakeries. Read one. Can’t figure out if it’s a legit Web site, the Onion or a “news” site that, by the last paragraph, will have blamed the problem on President Obama being a secret Muslim, the Conspiracy of World Jewry or possibly the Vast Right-Wing Conspiracy. Still, feel flickers of anxiety ripple across my consciousness. Resent these as they interrupt plan to go back to sleep.

8:15 a.m. Stupid flickers. Decide, grudgingly, to get on with day; eat breakfast; get older daughter who starts middle school late on Fridays off to class. Turn on radio on way home. Morning drive-time hosts are talking about closure of all Hostess bakeries nationwide. Nearly drive off road in flop-sweat panic.

I interrupt my timeline here to mention that, unlike all of you who posted things like, “So sad to hear of Hostess closing, although I haven’t eaten a single one of their products in nigh on 20 years,” I actually and regularly buy and eat Hostess stuff (I suspect you are just ashamed to admit that you eat those tiny waxy doughnuts and hockey-puck-like Ding Dongs and sugar-sweet Cupcakes. Also in this category are people who say, “I buy cupcakes/Zingers/a bag of powdered mini donees once in a while for the kids.” To you I say, riiiiiiiiight!).

Cupcakes and Ding Dongs are my historical favorites, but lately I’ve been eating the new devil’s food chocolate-frosted tiny doughnuts once a week or so. I can eat a couple and give my kids one each of the rest when I pick them up from school. Family bonding time! I also ate Hostess blackberry pies almost every day my first year or two of college (I still remember picking the seeds out of my teeth; those things actually had blackberries in them, even though the filling had a consistency like library paste) and I still buy Sno Balls whenever I see the white ones. My sister Jen and I have a Sno Ball ritual: peel off and eat the thick coconut-marshmallow cloak, revealing a tasty little pill of “crème”-filled chocolate cake, which we munch down in one or two bites after licking out the “creme.” Don’t judge.

What I’m saying here, people, is that due to my penchant for unhealthy snacks, this is a real and not just a sentimental loss. Hostess isn’t part of the past for me. It hasn’t been retired, inducted into the Snack Legends Hall of Fame, given an ugly jacket, made an emotional speech and settled into to a life of golf, signing autographs at card shows, commentating for its alma mater and being featured in 15 years in a “Where Are They Now?” issue of Sports Illustrated. In our house Hostess is still in the lineup. Batting cleanup, actually. This career-ending incident leaves a huge hole in the Stacey Snack Team.

10 a.m.-2 pm. Descend into a depressed funk while alternating between listening to the radio, reading internet news sites and commenting bitterly to people on Facebook about the rapacious CEO dude who took over at Hostess, what? yesterday? and has now decided the only way forward is to close. I also reserve some ire for unions who would rather drive a beloved snacks firm into the ground than accept pay and benefits cuts. Then I consider how I would feel if we lost a pension and got our take-home slashed. Realize I would comfort myself with a pack of Ding Dongs! Except not anymore.

3 p.m. After getting the kids from school and temporarily disposing of most of them on playdates, decide it might cheer me up to buy our Thanksgiving food. I really, really like cooking all day long on Thanksgiving (more on that in a few days), and picking the turkey and getting all the ingredients is always a mood booster. The trip does make me feel better, but not for the reasons I imagine. At first, I feel more sad, because when I get to the Hostess endcap in the baked goods section, all that remains are some yellow Zingers (blech), some lemon and cherry pies (blech, blech) and (heavenly trumpets! ray of light descending from the heavens!) a single bag of Devil’s Food Donettes. Snatch it up and hide it carefully under bags of stuffing cubes to guard against looters.

3:30 p.m. I’m at checkout for a while; this is Thanksgiving buying day. While there, fall into conversation with checkout girl and teenage bagger, who is laboring mightily on my behalf. As he’s placing bouillon cubes and chicken stock into bag No. 14, he sees the Donettes and deduces I’m a Hostess fan. I whine a little bit about how these might be my last Donettes EVER (this is why I can’t get irritated with my kids when they get overdramatic about dropping a school paper in a puddle or not getting tasty frozen peaches in their lunch). But then a tiny miracle happens: this teenage kid with the untidy bangs morphs, movie-style, into a knowledgeable business pundit who gives me an articulate and detailed discourse on Hostess' assets versus its sale price and why that means someone will definitely buy it, and soon. He warns that there will definitely be shortages for a while. Still, a gleam of hope! Look for the kid as I’m wheeling my stuff out, and he’s disappeared from the front end. Maybe he went on break. I prefer to think he ascended back into the heaven from which he came to comfort us in this time of crisis.

5 p.m. onward Get home, realize The Bagging Angel was right! Sample internet headlines:

Will a Mexican billionaire family buy Hostess’ orphaned brands? Sounds great! Mexican Coke is extra delish; maybe Mexi cupcakes would be, too!

Relax, Twinkies likely to live on That’s as may be, sir; but what about the cupcakes?!! The Donettes?!?!! In the name of all that’s good and holy, what about the Sno Balls?!?!?!!!!

Analyst sees Kellogg as candidate to buy Hostess Excellent! Envision new product: super-mini choco donette cereal! Don’t even tell me you wouldn’t buy some.

Will Disney buy Hostess? OK, now you’re just teasing me.

I’m still hoarding my bag of Donettes, though. Just in case.