Moon Pies, R C's And Tom's Peanuts Poem by Sidi Mahtrow

Enter the half-dark gloom
Of Riddlesperger's store
And adjust your eyes.

If your nose is a-twitching,
From this exercise,
Perhaps you'll come to notice the musky odor
From the old ice box on the sidewall.
The center-hinged, double door on top
Means you can open either side,
And like as not the RC
You're seeking is hiding on the other side.

Those floating chunks of ice
Have created an environment
All their own and the pleasant smell
Is one that years later can be recalled.

Cold, my God, that ice water is cold.
One doesn't go bobbing for apples
In it and the bottles tend to just sort of float
Around until the one you want comes into view.

Years ago the drip pan underneath
The box became just too much of a problem,
So the only solution was drill a hole
In the pine floor and let the water go where it pleased.

Don't look, the drip pan may still be there
Holding its charge of water,
And who knows what stray mouse
May have fallen in as well.

Take your RC to the counter,
Fetch a bag of Tom's peanuts
From the jar and ask for a moon pie.
None of those new ones
With artificial strawberry flavor –
They don't taste like strawberry anyhow.

Pull out your quarter and get some change,
A good solid nickel;
Don't sound like much until you think,
That's bout what you earn for half-hours' work.

Open the Rarra-C with the opener on your knife,
(The handy beer-can opener that's there for free)
Or perhaps the pull on the side of the ice box
From which the RC was chilled to near freezing.
Now go out and get a place on the wooden bench
Where everyone sits and spits and whittles.
(Maybe you'll be lucky enough to find a spot.)

First the RC.
Just enough bubbly to suggest a properly aged champagne,
Acid as provided by the carbonation
With a trace of sulfuric or phosphoric acid,
Sweet but not as sweet
As Coke and Pepsi with their
16 or so percent sugar contents.

A generous serving
Larger than Dr. Pepper,
Orange Crush or whatever,
And in a clear bottle with RC boldly displayed.

Ah! Raise the bottle
And let the liquid cascade down you throat.
It's good.

Now that you have been tempted,
You are ready for yet another culinary delight.
That same RC has a companion.
The bag of Tom's peanuts
Which you bought for just one nickel
Beacons you.

Tearing into the bag is just as difficult
As opening a moon pie but when you succeed,
Caution is necessary to avoid spilling a single nut.
Sample one.
They're just as tasty
As when they emerged from the oven
And with just the right amount of salt.

With that first draught from the big RC
You have made way for the peanuts.
Pour the whole bag into the waiting opening
And quickly cover with your thumb.
Shake the bottle to give a good mix
Of the peanuts in that cold liquid.

Quickly bring the pressured bottle to your mouth.
The charged container provides its own motive force
And the cold liquid spews forth –
Hopefully into your waiting mouth.
Now set the bottle aside,
Keeping a close eye on it to be sure that it doesn't,
With a mind of its own, erupt again.

Time to open the moon-pie.
The cellophane wrap doesn't give up easily.
Best to grasp it with your teeth and start a tear.
Once begun it's no problem.
If you expect to get the smell of dark chocolate and truffles,
You'll be disappointed.

This treat is one where the combinations
Are for the tongue, not the nose.
Smooth texture of the chocolate
Wrapped fully around this sandwich
Yields up a pleasant mouth feel
By holding the layers of graham cracker like crispness
At the proper moisture level.
The marshmallow center with just the right
Sweetness and sponginess completes the orgy.

It doesn't get any better than this
And for twenty cents,
iI's more than just a meal,
iI's a Southern delight.
One hasn't experienced
The best that life has to offer
Unless treated to a cold bottle of Royal Crown Cola,
A bag of Tom's peanuts
And a cellophane wrapped,
Chocolate covered,
Marshmallow-centered sandwich!

They may not meet the nutritional requirements
Specified by the current class of dietary gurus
But they do something else instead.
They satisfy.

Now kick back, relax and watch the cars go by.

sjm