Fizzies

One of the joys of old age is being able to draw upon a vast number of life memories, accurate or otherwise. I am quite sure most of my recollections fall into the otherwise category but joy number two of old age is that most folks aren't listening so it doesn't matter if my memories are a bit discombobulated.

A recent discussion with a few of my younger friends revolved around favorite drinks when we were growing up. Elixers such Orange Crush, Dr. Pepper and Root Beer popped up as sweet memories. Not to be outdone I offered up one of my favorite treats, Fizzies. Silence. More silence. It was evident that I had mined too far back in my memory bank for this crowd. Of course, I took it upon myself to let them know what they had missed in the world of enhanced liquids. After my explanation, most of them said they would stick with Fresca.

My memory of Fizzies is truly more about the circumstances than the drink itself. One highlight of my life as a kid on the farm was lunch time (note: lunch was the mini-meal between the noon meal, dinner, and the evening meal, supper). On many occasions my grandfather would join us at the table and we all clamored for his attention. One fun activity we shared with him was selecting our favorite Fizzie drink and ceremoniously preparing it. A Fizzie was a quarter-sized surgary tablet that could be dropped into a glass of cold water and it would fizz its way into a sweet drink. We loved watching the bubbles form around the tablets and we always hoped our tablet would be the fastest to dissolve so we could be the first one to taste our drink. Grape, cherry cola and root beer were a few of the flavor choices and my grandfather loved joining us in each Fizzie moment.

Fizzies disappeared in the 60's due to a banned ingredient in the product. As kids, we found this perplexing. After all, we were the generation of no seat belts, no car seats, no helmets and lard. It seemed cruel to lose our effervescent friend, but Kool-Aid helped us recover from our loss.

The good news is that Fizzies are making a comeback. The CEO of a company in Minnesota said he couldn't bear to live in a world without Fizzies so he bought the trademark and is introducing eight fizzilicious cool flavors (as well as one hot cocoa flavor) to a new generation of wide-eyed kids. He wisely added Vitamin C to the mix so there is a possibility the government will see fit to leave the little tablets alone this time.

I haven't tasted the new Fizzies but there is a possibility they won't meet my memory standards. Not because they aren't as good, but because I won't be sitting around a table at lunch time with my raucous siblings and my grinning grandfather, watching little colored disks froth away in frosty glasses.

Enjoy a sip of your favorite memory this week and if you are feeling bold, share it with all of us. I won't judge.

Lady With A Cake

About a week ago I was driving across town, doggedly ticking off my internal to-do list and feeling a bit frazzled. I came upon a church and immediately had to slow down. It was evident from the activity on the street that an event was taking place. Cars were queuing up in search of parking spots. Suits and dresses were the chosen attire. I wondered if the event was a wedding until I saw an elderly lady pull herself out of her car and start the block hike to the church. She was clutching a 9x13 cake pan with the skill and determination of one who knows how to take care of business. I know of only one morning weekday event at churches that requires donated cakes and that is a funeral.

As I nudged my way through the slowing traffic I watched the lady continue her journey toward the door. I was struck by her simple act of kindness. A sweet moment of sharing that quietly filled a need. She did not appear to be someone who is able to write out seven figure checks to charity. I don't think she has statues of herself placed strategically on the grounds, commemorating her act of giving. I doubt her name is written on buildings or public venues. And yet, when a family is in mourning and needs a cake, she says, "Yes."  Regardless of how busy she might be or how much her arthritis might be flaring up or whether she is out of eggs, she steps up to the task at hand. She makes sure that a cake is ready to go and delivered to the church on time. An ordinary act with extraordinary impact.

I am on the back to school countdown and in just a few short days I will be in front of a classroom again. The easy part is getting caught up in all the minutia of being ready. All the school supplies, the lesson plans, the room posters, the meetings, the class lists, the frenzy. The difficult part is focusing on what is really important. I will be greeted by a new group of faces who will need a sound education. They will need a safe place to be. They will need guidance. They will need positive relationships. They will need someone to hear their voices.

Experience tells me that there will be days when I will become weary from waves of restless children and mountains of paperwork. I will feel beat down by test scores and apathy. I will worry about the troubled lives of children.

But, through it all, I really only want one thing.

I want to be like the lady with the cake.