So says friend Melissa as she sends this picture from somewhere during her recent journeys in East Asia, and she’s not wrong. First of all, there are lots of kind of Cheerios these days. They’re all over the map, and many sound flat-out unappetizing: pumpkin spice, very berry, peanut butter chocolate, ancient grains, and even fruity, which would seem to be the Fruit Loops of Cheerios. (I am, however, interested in the dark chocolate crunch.) Also, appreciating plain Cheerios is an art form, a finding of truth requiring the most refined palette. I’ve argued as much for the last 37 years. So, let us not forget a truth about the Loops. Says Melissa, “Fruit Loops aren’t even good. And they are all the same flavor.”
Trademark doesn’t understand my Cheerios people.
US intellectual property regulators are rejecting General Mills’ bid to trademark the yellow background color on boxes of Cheerios cereal.
The Trademark Trial and Appeal Board on Tuesday set aside the cereal maker’s two-year quest to trademark “the color yellow appearing as the predominant uniform background color” on boxes of “oat-based breakfast cereal.” A contrary ruling could have given the Cheerios maker an exclusive right to yellow boxes of oat cereal.
And I understand that the world doesn’t understand. “The baffling reason many millennials don’t eat cereal” (cleaning a cereal bowl takes work) and whatnot. Count me on the side of appreciating bowls.
And I’m not sure cereal and I have the same relationship as we used to. Sam Sifton’s case for making breakfast is starting to work for me in theory, if not in practice just yet.
But yellow boxes of oat cereal are Cheerios.
“Beautiful Cheerio,” describing a Froot Loop. By Jess’ oldest, who doesn’t get to eat Froot Loops often enough to know them (good) but does know the name of the world’s finest and most delicious cereal (great).
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…
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.