Newsmessenger - Halloween Candy 101

With Halloween just around the corner, I thought it might be wise to address a topic that I am very, very passionate about. Candy. As a father of four living in a standard California cookie cutter neighborhood (granted, a very nice and tidy cookie cutter neighborhood, I don’t want to be accused of driving my home value down any more than it already is!) I stand to bring in quite a haul on Halloween night. And much like a Mafia Don, Big Tony is going to be sure to get a piece of the pie.

Thankfully this year, Halloween falls on a Saturday. To be honest, it doesn’t matter to me if it falls on a school night, I’m going to wet my beak, or get a taste of the action (pun intended) before the kids go to bed regardless so having them not have to pull out of a candy hangover at 7 AM is a bonus. As a veteran now of over a decade sending out my candy minions to do my dirty work, I have developed a sorting system that I’m happy to share with you.

First, all candy undergoes a standard safety inspection. I’m sure we’ve all heard horror stories of razor blades and the like being inserted into Nestle Crunch bars as well as Kit Kat’s and Snickers. And if you haven’t, well, now you have and you can thank me from your chocolate-induced coma later. I remove these “A-list” candies immediately from the kid’s bags and put them into a large Ziploc labeled “Dad” which I tell them is a trash bag. Trust me; these will definitely be disposed of.

Next we run a series of tests on the remaining candies. Tootsie Rolls are bent and squeezed to check for freshness and a Butterfinger or two is sacrificed right on the spot to check consistency, or more specifically, if these were left over from last year. If the kids get home early enough these go into the bowl to hand out to the neighborhood kids along with the black and orange colored taffy. I have a theory that those were made once back in the 50’s and we’re still working off of that initial batch. If we’re too late to hand them back out, they get put into the “eat only when desperate” bag.

You then take your Hershey’s Chocolate, M&M’s, Skittles, Nerds, Runts and Laffy Taffy and put those into an “B-list” pile. These will be in the immediate rotation, meaning they’ll be snacked upon throughout the day in small enough doses that the calories will never really “stick.” Yes, this is another one of my theories. M&M’s used to be put in the “Dad” bag but I took exception with them, or more specifically the packaging. I, for one, don’t find much “Fun” in a “Fun Size” bag that contains 7 peanut M&M’s. It takes me about 5 or 6 “Fun Size” bags to even start remotely having fun and by that time I have a pretty “Pathetic Size” pile of wrappers sitting in front of me.

Finally we divide up the “C-listers” such as the Bottle Caps, Milk Duds, Dots and Smarties amongst the kids. I’ll let them keep the Milky Way’s and Three Musketeers’ as well as the Hershey’s Kisses just so they look like they made out alright. Let me be perfectly clear, the contents of your piles may vary. I once met a girl who loved the Root Beer Bottle Caps and would have clearly put them on the “A-list.” She was wrong, but entitled to her opinion nonetheless.

When the kids were little they tired easily and often didn’t earn their keep. To compensate I learned the fine art of turning off the porch light to preserve what was left in our own candy bowl. But with age and a slowing metabolism my wife no longer wants any part of the Halloween haul so she started buying the yucky candy to hand out so that she wouldn’t be tempted. If you’re looking for quantity over quality, hit my house up right before bed time and I’ll empty the remainder of the bowl in your pillow case for an even half-hearted “Trick or Treat!”

Inevitably, though, too much of a good thing can indeed get old. We’ll hit the candy buffet hard for the first few days and eventually the thrill of the haul is gone. The Kit Kat’s lose a bit of their bite, the Snickers don’t quite satisfy and the Crunch bars aren’t so crunchy. Not to worry, though, the kid’s candy bags quickly disappear only to find their contents magically lining the bottom of their Christmas stockings, my minions, I mean my kids, none the wiser.

Newsmessenger - Just Like the Pioneers of Old

A couple of weeks ago my wife and I sat down to watch a movie. The one line description on the screen made it sound like a good, suspenseful drama, sure to have plenty of twists and turns. Fifteen minutes later we turned it off. A lady spun around on a bridge with a disfigured face and then all heck broke loose. We realized that we no longer enjoyed being scared as we had early in our marriage. Now, scary is the idea of what goes on at the check up I’m scheduled for in a couple of months when I hit the big 4-0. That’s an entirely different column. But little did we know that the movie was foreshadowing our own real-life thriller that would take place just a week later.

Imagine the horror of being on vacation with 4 young children and suddenly the lights in the pool go out well before the 9 PM shut off time! Don’t get me wrong, the hotel generators kicked in, the outside lights came back on and we were able to finish our swim but it got worse! On the way back to our room we had to take the stairs! And it didn’t stop there. Once in our room, we had to resort to watching movies on a battery powered DVD player. We had no idea how much battery life we had! Oh the horror! The kids were in mortal terror as they played their portable gaming devices wondering aloud if power would return in time to charge the devices when they went to bed.

And the kids weren't the only ones in a panic. My iPhone was down to a 42% charge, my laptop battery showed only one power bar. This was no time to lose my head. I was quick to assume the role of a calming voice. Luckily I remembered that my youngest daughter had brought a headlamp in her suitcase. She likes to stay up late and read. I downloaded a “flashlight” application on my phone that provided enough light to locate the headlamp. It was a gamble, downloading the application would suck precious battery life that we might need later to entertain ourselves with some YouTube videos of cats playing the piano. We called a quick family council.

“Kids,” I said. “We often read stories about the pioneers and the challenges that they went through many, many years ago. Well, tonight we're creating our own stories. Stories that your children, my grandchildren, will someday read and wonder how we ever managed. Yes, it's true, the refrigerator is quickly losing coolant, and if the power doesn't return, our bedtime snacks will consist of not entirely frozen M&M's and not freezing cold water, but we can do this.”

“Not to fear,” I continued. “Our toothbrushes are battery powered and, in a pinch, we can watch the movies and TV shows that we all have on our iPods. I knew what I had to promise next. “If the power doesn't return by morning, I will sacrifice and go sit in the car while my phone charges using the automobile adapter.”

My young son let out a sniffle. “Pa,” he asked. “Will we still be able to swim in the morning?” This was no time to lie, he needed the truth. “I hope so, son, I really hope so. But without power, our key cards might not get us into the pool.” One of my daughters, or perhaps it was my wife, let out a scream! “Wait, aren't the hot water heaters dependent on the power? And what about my curling iron?”

“Honey,” I said. “I'm going to assume the hot water heaters are gas, but we can't be sure. They might indeed be electric, and, if so, we'll make the best of it.” I needed to take the kids minds off their surroundings. I decided I would tell some scary stories by the light of my illuminated cell phone. Stories about music that needed to be rewound, dinners that took a long time to cook in the oven and popcorn that popped in specially designed machines. I told them of records, days without Velcro and the McRib. I was just starting into an explanation of a “Pet Rock” when we suddenly heard the sound of angels...the whir of the air conditioning. The lights and TV came on and noises were coming from all sides. I grabbed my family close and held them tight! “We made it,” I said. “For the last 15 minutes kids, we were indeed just like the pioneers.”

As the kids faded off to sleep I turned the TV on and just had to laugh as we stumbled upon the same movie we had turned off just a couple of short weeks ago. Only this time it was like watching a comedy after the horror that we had just been through.

Tony Overbay is a 16-year Lincoln resident and father of four. You can find more of his writings at www.tonyoverbay.com.

Newsmessenger - This Just In, Walking 6th Grader to Class...Not Cool (But My Crocs Are Cool)!

Life is full of unanswerable questions. How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop? Why do we say, “Bye bye,” but not “Hi, hi?” Why did Superman wear briefs on the outside of his tights? How many grains of sand are on a beach and will we ever know where all of the missing socks go from the laundry? (I do have my theories, but when a grown man references magical elves people tend to turn a deaf ear, and on that note, why aren’t their female leprechauns?). But one answer I do know for certain is when your parents walking you to class on the first day of school is not cool. That would be the 6^th grade.

With four children in school, managing the first day has become a major event. My wife and I divide up the duties of walking our children to class, careful to watch for visual clues of a possible melt down. If we see a tear start to form in an eye, or a lower lip tremble, we know to excite and distract. “Look at that pencil sharpener!” Or “That's the biggest bottle of hand sanitizer I've ever set eyes on!” Or, “Is that a female leprechaun?” We snap a photo, give a reassuring hug and a kiss and quickly make our way back to the car just in case the bravado wears thin and the child second guesses their excitement for the first day.

But this year the big question was who got to take our oldest to middle school? Middle school, land of cell phones and make up. Changing voices and changing attitudes, not always for the better. I won out and was flattered to take my daughter to school.

As I was getting ready that morning I noticed I was more self-aware than I have been in a long time. I felt like I was the one trying to make a good impression on the first day. I don't have hair, so I wasn't worried about wearing it in an out-of-date style. Yes, I have high school dance pictures with some sort of mullet, curls fresh from my Mom’s curling iron peeking out from the back underneath my ears. I spotted a potential problem as I glanced down at my feet. Crocs. Despite my love of the horrible looking gardening clogs I am certain they will be the bell bottoms, or possibly the leg warmers of my generation. My kids will see pictures of me wearing my Crocs and they will wonder if I knew they didn't look good when I was wearing them, the same way I look at pictures of my parents in the 70's and wonder if they knew those gigantic collars, odd glasses and horrible color combinations didn't work on them.

Well kids, let me go on record to say that I know my Crocs look hideous, but in true “old person style” I'll claim comfort over fashion. I have to say, I'm very curious to try on some dark socks with my shorts, they must be comfortable. Or perhaps a t-shirt with some dress pants, grow out a comb-over or let my nose and/or ear hair go for a few months. Take a look around and you’re sure to find these fashions still widely practiced, so there must be something to them.

But I don't believe it was my dress that caused my daughter to stop me in my tracks after just entering the playground, wait, I'm sure it's not called a playground in 6^th grade. We stopped on the blacktop, noticing no other parents in sight! None! I looked like the giant, solitary forehead zit on the face of the first day. She quickly gave me a hug and a kiss and dismissed me back to the car. My first thought was how did I miss the memo? Not too far away my wife was dropping off 2^nd and 4^th graders along with a playground full of other parents. Parking spots, she'd later tell me, were in high demand. I pulled right up in front of the school and found a spot. It was so wide open, as a matter of fact, that I got out and asked the cross guard if I could park there. She looked at me like I was speaking Klingon. Spots were open, people park, that’s the way it works!

How could you veteran parents do this to me? Did you all send around a note telling each other that you most definitely do not take your middle schooler to his or her classroom on the first day?

Luckily I still had my kindergartener in tow, ready for his own debut. I eventually found a spot at his school, fought the crowd into the class and found myself almost encouraging him to hang onto my leg as I prepared to leave, knowing now that the countdown was on. Five more first days of school left in my parenting career and my Crocs and I will simply be waving from the street, granted from an easy-to-find parking spot!