Rob took this photo for me a long time ago, and it has sat around ever since. For his birthday today, I salute him and his accompanying note: "Fyi, the cheddar flavor creates a perfect cross between Cheerios and Cheetos." This is why we are brothers and why I respect and love him.

Not only is he a fine investment banker (and an upstanding investment banker, it must be said in this day and age), but he understands and, I know, appreciates the finer things in life. Like Cheerios! And Cheetos!

Happy 29th, brother Rob! Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow. It's sure hard to believe you'll be 30 next time. Give me a year on that one.

To continue the celebration, more pictures, nearly lost on my machine, of boxes of cereal, all of which remind me of my brother in some way…

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Via the Post's Story Lab blog this month, we find Things They Carried author Tim O'Brien's 2009 Atlantic essay on narrative, "Telling Tails."

The blog post is a sign of how Story Lab has democratized its views on storytelling, and the essay is terrific. "MY SONS, TIMMY and Tad — both fans of Winnie the Pooh — have taken lately to wearing tails," O'Brien begins to tell us. "At our local Wal-Mart, and occasionally at church, the boys sport lengths of clothesline dangling from their trousers."

More of the lede: "They prowl the neighborhood trailing an assortment of ribbons, coat hangers, telephone cords, fishing line, belts, blankets, drapery tassels, and electrical extension cords. People notice. Things have gotten out of hand." O'Brien sews as a master. Reading further, you get a great story about Batman, and then you get the Cheerios.

Above all, a well-imagined story is organized around extraordinary human behaviors and unexpected and startling events, which help illuminate the commonplace and the ordinary. In daily life, one would not say to a drinking companion, "Hey, here’s a great story for you. Yesterday morning I ate Cheerios. Then I set off for work. Work was boring. Nothing happened. I left the office at five o’clock sharp. That night I ate a steak, not a great steak, but a pretty darned good one. I went to bed about nine." Very quickly, I think, one’s drinking mate would seek more interesting company. A better story, though not necessarily a good one, might begin: "Yesterday morning, over my usual bowl of Cheerios, I was alarmed to note that the Cheerios were shaped not as standard circles, but as semicircles, as if someone had used a surgical scalpel to slice each individual Cheerio precisely in half. Odd, I thought. And odder still, those particular Cheerios tasted only half as delicious as Cheerios usually taste. And even odder yet, I found myself half hungry at work that morning, half wishing for a bowl of Cheerios. My hunger was soon tempered, however, by the disturbing realization that I was now but half a man."

I'm trying, I'm trying. New York Times "Year in Ideas," December 2001.

Next spring, General Mills is expected to introduce www.mycereal.com, a Web site that allows users to mix and match more than 100 different ingredients to create and name their own breakfast cereals, delivered to their homes in single-serving portions.

You want Cheerios to come with the marshmallows from Lucky Charms? Done. Mix Cinnamon Toast Crunch with French Toast Crunch? Sure. Wheaties with blueberries, almonds and grains? No problem. Add a tropical touch to your Cocoa Puffs? Have them throw in some coconut shreds and dried mango.

Via Mediaite's 2009 review of the '01 ideas list. The site's comment on cereal: "My Honey Nut Cap'n Crunch Choculas never really caught on."

Mycereal.com remains under General Mills control, sadly unused.

The card from one of last week's birthday highlights. Thanks so much to Stephanie, Katie and Laura for it. (And the meeting was productive.)

The FDA is demanding Cheerios pull its marketing claims of lowering your cholesterol. While admitting Cheerios may be healthy, the FDA says only approved drugs can make such claims, leading to the ABC News headline, "FDA: Don't advertise Cheerios as a drug."

The demand comes to General Mills in a letter from W. Charles Becoat, director of the FDA's Minneapolis District Offce, "Your Cheerios ® product is misbranded within the meaning of section 403(r)(1)(B) of the Act [21 U.S.C. § 343(r)(1)(B)] because it bears unauthorized health claims in its labeling." Other sections also cause trouble. Confiscation is threatened. You have to wonder what Mr. Becoat eats for breakfast. 

In Digital Journal, a writer sides with the FDA. She writes, "What would be hysterically funny would be if Cheerios could prove their 'studies' were accurate, and eating Cheerios really does lower cholesterol, the FDA would have to declare it a 'drug' and we'd need prescriptions to buy it at the super market." Lady, you got a strange idea of funny. 

Ad Age says public sentiment is on Cheerios' side in this. Rush Limbaugh is. From Wednesday, "Imagine if somebody were to put sugar on their Cheerios: oh, my God, what would the FDA do then? Actually, General Mills does: they're called Honey Nut Cheerios. That's a gateway drug here, folks." A Big Money column looks at the partisan debate.

As for myself… this blogger has no interest in partisanship. But we do know this blogger has a problem. Paraphernalia's strewn about this druggie's glass coffee table this very moment (at right).

In a story today about tech crazes, NYT's David Pogue writes, "You've never seen 1,000 people camping out to be the first in line to buy, say, a new flavor of Cheerios or the latest Gap jeans." True. But I've never been given the opportunity. Bring on Cheerio madness! I need it bad.

This will do, from the Sun-Times.

United Airlines' December 5, 1967 Baltimore-to-San Francisco flight was a good one for a hungry passenger. The in-flight meal began with the French shellfish dish Coquilles St. Jacques, followed by a choice of lobster thermidor, grilled beef tournedos or double French lamb chops with mint jelly. There was soup and salad, of course. Dessert offerings included lime tartlette, chocolate torte and almond rum bar.

Sure, that was in first class, but the economy class food of the period was nearly as extensive. Brunch for coach passengers on a 1969 United flight from San Francisco to Omaha featured a mushroom omelette, broiled ham and brandied hazelnut mousse. That same year, a Pan Am New York-to-Barbados flight treated economy flyers to stuffed Rock Cornish Hen with madeira sauce and a separate cheese course before dessert. A split of champagne? A buck, even.

Or this, from the Northwestern website.

A 1970 Western Airlines flight from Honolulu to San Francisco included scallops of veal and chilled vichyssoise soup. A 1971 American Airlines flight from San Francisco to New York boasted a brunch of Kaula omelet with filet mignon or crepes lomi lomi. And a 1964 American Airlines menu (bound with gold string) served filet mignon with bordelaise sauce to its San Francisco to Chicago/Detroit passengers.

International trips offered even tastier fare. In 1966, a passenger flying BOAC economy class from London to Tel Aviv enjoyed a lunch of foie gras, fresh Scotch salmon, salad, cheese, fruit and coffee, followed by afternoon tea. And one had only to ask for a complimentary Martini — sweet or dry — and free in-flight cigarettes in plain or filter tip.

TWA travelers flying first class from London to Chicago that year chose their cocktails, whiskies, highballs or champagne from a menu in the form of a scroll that doubled as a souvenir. Their dinner of curried squab chicken or Maine lobster Newburg began with fresh Malossol caviar, and was capped off with assorted French cheeses, pastries or ice creams. Diners with less rarified tastes could substitute a hot dog and malted milk.

If you've missed the coverage until now, the world-class Northwestern University Transportation Library has a new online exhibit featuring airline, ship and train menus from 1929 to the present. The glamorous line trends in the direction you'd expect. But then again, I'm eating Cheerios and a banana for breakfast. If I were the Sausage and Fancy Omelet King of Chicago, then I could complain.

They exist. They really do.

When I wrote in August about imagining "the taste of my Christmas and Easter mornings," my brother apparently already knew such a product existed. Such was SkyMall and an i-banker's flight schedule.

But while the chocolatiers at Jacque Torres had beaten me to the idea, I didn't lose out entirely. Rob sent me four bags this week.

Initial review: Delicious.

Before I began writing On Deadline*, several of my bosses told me what they expected out of the blog. The posts were not to be about what I had for breakfast, they said. Cereal was mentioned a couple times. Being a co-creator of the blog's concept, I knew as much. But I understood where they were coming from. Aside from a half-dozen stories at CNN, my only writing of length in preceding years had come in this blog. And this blog was no stranger to cereal.

My brother understands this history, and that's why when he reads about a new cereal restaurant beginning to franchise across the country, he promptly sends me the story. Amid the revamping of Cereality's business model and the reported failure of the company's Evanston branch, I'm a bit disillusioned with the entire cereal restaurant industry. The nexus of my pain? The ground floor of the condo down the street has been empty for probably a year now. There's a "retail parking" garage, but inside is only a expensive spa. My dreams of a neighboring Cereality and Krispy Kreme have long died.

With this other cereal chain's expansion, the article tells of 16 stores — I like to think of them as restaurants, to think otherwise cheapens the cereal experience — under development. "Looks like Cereality is going to get a run for its money," my brother says. But the story doesn't name the locations, and I'm a little distrustful. Until I see my city's name on paper and next to cereal, I can't raise my spoon.

In other news, I have a new great idea. Chocolate-covered Cheerios. The taste of my Christmas and Easter mornings! A soft pitch at Sunday night's festivities has no doubt left the gathered Leongs and Strahotas dreaming of endless bowls. How this idea took 27 years to strike, I have no idea.

*On Deadline turned out fine. I think I only wrote about cereal twice: "Drink your Trix, Cocoa puffs" and "Be like Mike? Be liking milk." Ha.

"General Mills wants your suggestions" for FOOD. Except the General Mills site specifies, a little more than the Sun-Times does, that the company wants technology ideas. Which isn't as much fun because the company has already invented the wheel.