I absolutely adore this time of year. I yearn for the vast array of hues that majestically drape the region like a giant patchwork quilt. I cannot get enough of the sounds of crisp leaves crunching beneath my manly work boots as I traipse through the woods. (Due to a total lack of energy, this is generally carried out via cattle prod. I am simply being honest and digressing just a tad as well.)
I live for the fact that all things pink have sauntered onto the October stage too, as it loans a bit of contrast to the earth tones that grace the countryside. I have a great fondness for weather that doesn't include oppressively humid air, which has usually exited stage left by this time. I enjoy not being subject to 18 hours of daylight. Simply put, I exist for all things fall.
However, and you simply had to know that was coming, there is one thing about this specific “most wonderful time of the year” that has become quite irritating to me. Obviously I will not be concentrating on all of the “grooviness,” (new word, just work with me), associated with this season but will instead focus on the hideous item that has been brought to my attention over and over again.
Certainly you did not think this was going to be some sort of essay dripping with language best suited for a romance novel, did you? Please, give me a hint of credit. You know me better than that.
Much like fruitcake, candied yams and influenza, there is a certain promotional token, for lack of a better description, that comes around like a merry-go-round pony at the same time annually. This would be none other than the now infamous... PUMPKIN SPICE craze that appears to spread through the land like a sick infection on a mission.
What is the bag I ask you? That statement alone is one which Mother simply cannot tolerate and by which she is totally appalled, of course.
This has gotten totally out of control if you ask me and you did not but when does that ever matter? We've gone from casually adding said flavor to coffee and cakes, for just two examples, to seeing it morph into an epidemic of Biblical proportions.
I enjoy pumpkin spice as much as the next lunatic, (I actually don't), but honestly, don't you think this has gone overboard? The trend seems to peek around the corner in very late September and by mid October it reaches a fever pitch as everything under the moon now has the added joy of pumpkin spice flavor. Isn't it simply marvelous?!
I promise you I am not making up this next part at all. I just now carried out a computer search for “things with pumpkin spice.” The list consists of the following items: Limited Edition Planters Peanuts; Kellogg's Frosted Mini Wheats; M&Ms; peanut butter and a plethora of other food stuffs.
I never thought I'd involve myself in research about this topic. However, I find that I am mesmerized over the whole deal. I cannot believe what I am learning about this fad. I must share, as is my nature.
Evidently, this all began with Starbucks, which charges something like $52.47 for a Cup O' Joe but I digress. They introduced a beverage about 12 years ago called Pumpkin Spice Latte. The whole marketing idea caught on and now we have every corporation one can conjure adding the ingredients to just about anything that stops long enough. (I'm in trouble as I oft lounge throughout the day.)
In addition to the above-mentioned items, I have unearthed this shocking, lurid yet true list. Hold me and here goes: Krispy Kreme's Pumpkin Spice Latte Doughnut; Pumpkin Spice Peeps; Pumpkin Spice Hershey Kisses; Chobani's Pumpkin Spice Greek Yogurt; Siggi's Pumpkin & Spice Icelandic Yogurt and Red Robin's Pumpkin Spiced Pumpkin Pie Shake.
I ask you, what is next? How about pumpkin spice lip gloss or mascara? How does the idea of pumpkin spice motor oil grab you?
Why don't we go for a breakfast dish called pumpkin spice scramble with a side of pumpkin spice home fries? I live for the thought of PS, (getting tired of typing out pumpkin spice every other stroke), saline solution too. Let's live it up a touch and market some PS feminine products while we are at it, shall we?
Let's not stop there. I have a vision of a PS child clothing line, PS steak seasoning, PS chicken soup, PS furniture polish, PS diapers, PS toothpaste and PS chewing tobacco. We will be wealthy, happy and will trip the light fantastic in total celebratory mode on a PS dance floor, with a PS disco ball thrown in for good measure. I am elated to the max.
OK, bringing this back to reality, we must admit that we have a massive problem on our hands and it must be addressed pronto. I, for one, will join a 12 step program.
I now leave you with a simple request. Can we possibly, as a nation, get back to the good old days in which pumpkin spice was best utilized for, oh, I don't know, maybe a PUMPKIN PIE?!
Meanwhile, I'm off to purchase a pumpkin spice dome light for Edna, (the van), as she is need of a new one. While I am at it, I must possess some pumpkin spice printer ink with a side of pumpkin spice deodorant. Wish me luck as you relax in your pumpkin spice hot tub and sip on a pumpkin spice vodka and/or a pumpkin spice beer. (Watch out for those pumpkin spice cigars though. I heard they are harmful to one's health.)
P.S. Don't EVEN get me revved up about the word “punkin” permeating society. The word is pumpkin not punkin. I can't take it. Make it stop. Hold me.
THE END.