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Hot Buttered Corn Syrup and the Changing Public Taste

Time was when you eat or drank something sweet it was usually sugar cane or honey that made it that way. Your sodas, ice cream, cakes, whatever were made with sugar, unless you bought it at the emerging health foods stores. Then it might have been made with honey or molasses. Occasionally, maple syrup escaped its role as topping gourmet pancakes and waffles to satisfy your sweet tooth.

Corn syrup was rare. Corn syrup was the poor man’s sweetener. And then the food and beverage companies realized they could save a few cents per serving, and they started added corn sweetener to your snacks and drinks. Corn syrup was not only cheaper, they needed less to make food and drink as sweet or sweeter than sugar would. High fructose corn syrup–nothing like it.

Which is true. Apparently, it has no source in nature and the body has difficulty recognizing it as food and tends to store it more as fat than the body would store sugar cane or honey. At least that is the theory or argument posed by the alleged health nuts of the world. The Corn Refiners Association says otherwise. As do the companies who bought high fructose corn syrup and used it in their food and beverages. A recent article in the Los Angeles Times, captures the controversy pretty well.

But then, as some argue, when you look around, people are fatter. Forget the nice words like obese and overweight. People are fat. The fat rolls over their waistline, pudges out their arms and legs, extends their rear ends and causes their jowls to hang like a Bull Dog’s. And people have gotten fatter since we started consuming corn syrup in grand style. At its peak, the individual in America consumed almost 64 pounds of corn syrup a year. Now it is down to just over 56 pounds per person. That’s a lot of sweetener.

Diabetes is up, people are fatter, and related illnesses has climbed significantly. The purveyors of corn sweetener will tell you the obesity increase is due to caloric increase and the sedentary life. We are fat because we are couch potatoes, is the prevailing wisdom. It has nothing to do with the corn syrup we ingest every year.
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Well now a lot of people aren’t buying it. Literally. They haven’t been buying it for a number of years. So the good people who have been giving you bad foods are turning back to making their foods and beverages with sugar cane. They even boast their food products are “natural” and some even trumpet the health benefits of the sugar cane compared to corn syrup. Hey, anything for a buck.

I have to marvel over the miracle of the free market. This is the law of supply and demand at its finest. People no longer want something they fear is unhealthy in their foods and drinks and the manufacturers are forced to respond. The vendors re-arrange the furniture, so to speak, and spend the extra few cents on the ingredients and take the extra trouble to ship and store the more cumbersome sugar cane. Pretty amazing, eh?

But what is also amazing is that it took this long. For years now there have been health concerns about corn syrup. As the nation grew larger, the controversy stayed small. Until recently. As it has been said so many times over so many conditions, a change has come at last.

In the Highland Park section of Los Angeles, Galco’s a little Hispanic grocery has been for years carrying soft drinks with real cane sugar for many years. It is in fact the absolute Mecca for cane syrup soft drinks with aisle after aisle of cases of soft drinks from all over the world. Galco’s carried everything from the popular blends to the obscure. The owners let you mix and match. Galco’s serves excellent sandwiches, too, which presents a good excuse to wash them down with a bottle or two of Mexican or Irish soda pop.

As for the corn syrup, turn it into ethanol and put put it in your car. If your car gets fat, then you will know what to blame.

New Meaning to the Term, Cheap Date

Time was when someone told you they were a cheap date, it was regarded with humor. It was cute, something that was enticing, sweet, and implied that your prospective paramour was a person of simpler tastes. Of course, this wasn’t always the case, or even often the case, and a few dates into the relationship and those simpler tastes ratcheted up to more expensive forays around the town.

Then we had a couple, few decades of excess, spelled out perhaps by the more austere nineties and early twenty first century. Then happy days were here again. People dined, parties, bought custom clothes and borrowed heavily with equity loans on their properties that they believed would never stop appreciating. Many lived deep in debt but didn’t worry about it, since there was always more money from somewhere. And besides, living large was so much fun.

And then came reality. The economy went into a stall, housing prices plummeted and the sub-prime mortgage fiasco, hey, you too can buy a million dollar house for only $3,000 a month, knocked the proverbial wind out of our economic sails. Then came the insane increase in the prise of fuel, and the even more insane increase in the price of everything else.

So here we are, instead of the premium vodka and caviar weekends, the frequent trips to wherever we wanted to go, and even the eating out at Applebee’s three times a week, are becoming for most of us a fading memory. Even the rich feel the pinch and are complaining. I guess when your investment portfolio takes a 25% hit and your developing nations stocks fail to develop, it’s time to tighten the belt somewhat.

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Who knows? For dates, couple may start going for walks and packing picnic baskets. In time they may discover that at least half the food you eat in restaurants, while convenient, is often pretty lousy. It is actually fun to make food in your own kitchen, talking while preparing. If you are a new couple, it is a good way to really get to know each other without having to go through the usual rote speech questionnaire.

Perhaps, as the old song mistakenly attests, not all the best things in life are free. But some of the things can prove inexpensive. Hey, sex can be cost effective. And unlike most of the movies we see and meals we eat, you may even remember it a couple of days after you did it. Cap it off with more modest romantic gestures. They are appreciated, endearing and it shows you are making an effort to trasncend the usual doldrums of the economic downturn.

In times when just buying gasoline and basic groceries is putting a dent in the budget, perhaps the simpler lifestyle may be a necessity. But then it may also be desirable. Less pressure and fewer hoops to jump through to impress someone in ways that often don’t matter anyway. I mean, what woman really wants expensive jewelry? just kidding. All right, some of the better things in life definitely do cost money.

But who knows? With fewer nights out and fewer distractions, maybe you’ll even have to talk to each other.

The Paparazzi Go Surfing

Last Thursday, several performers, testified at Los Angeles City Hall about the tribulations of the dreaded Paparazzi. Dutifully, the performers pronounced to City Councilman Dennis P. Zine’s stalwart task force how they were put upon, set upon and otherwise infringed upon by an uncaring, avaricious bunch of tabloid journalists who make their living following celebrities around. Of course no one offered how the Paparazzi could boost careers as well as hinder personal lives.

Sometimes getting photographed or getting written up in the tabloids is a trade off. You are annoyed, even hounded. Your business, as they say, it out on the street. But in return you receive more public exposure. It’s fair to say career have never really been made or broken by the Paparazzi. But careers have been boosted and lives have been damaged. The recent romp through the Beverly Hilton hotel and the subsequent cornering of former Senator and Vice Presidential Candidate, John Edwards, who had allegedly been visiting his mistress and love child, I’m sure did little to boost his chances for a cabinet position.

Then there is the recent situation up in Malibu where some of the youthful denizens decided to experiment with some notion of honor by intimidating the Paparazzi who were there to take photos of Matthew McConaughey who was surfing. I can well understand that McConaughey wanted his privacy but the notion of nobility among the privileged Malibu surfer dudes is about as laughable as another Brittany Spears beaver shot.

I remember when celebrities and aspiring performers had their publicists and managers tip the Paparazzi to ensure the tabloid media was present for whatever was deemed a seminal event. Like when dinner that night at Spago with a new love interest that would attract a lot more coverage than a mere dinner with friends. There was always some tipoff, some tempest in a teapot that could play out like scandal that the tabloids could embrace and for which the celebrity would benefit.
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I also remember hanging out for an hour or so with one famed Paparazzi photographer. He and his sometime partner were considered gruff and callous. They were infamous for taking photos in the most unusual ways, like one burying the other in sand and cover him with a newspaper, the popping out when the target strode past. Or using a really long lens to snare a shot of a really famous political personality who was topless on her private beach.

The day I sat with this photographer he showed me photographs he had taken not for the tabloids but for himself. They were photographs of famous people, of course. But the photos were sensitive and captured aspects of personality I hadn’t seen in other photos. There was one particular photo of the Kennedy matriarchy that was taken back when Rose Kennedy was still alive. The photographer had struck a bargain and offered that if the Kennedy women would pose for the photo, he would leave them alone. Well at least for the rest of the day. He took the photo and kept his word. They went on their way. The photo remains, and I still think about that photo from time to time. For the supposed gruff guy, the crass Paparazzi, there was artistic sensitivity working underneath.

But let’s face it, the world has changed and its hunger for photos and information about famous people defies all logic. I mean how much can you really care about someone else life? But more on that some other time. It is sufficient here to remark that celebrities have been hounded beyond any common dignity. Princess Diana was the most notable instance, and all conspiracy theories aside, what went on that fateful night in Paris’ Pont d’Alma Tunnel may have well been caused by an overzealous tabloid media.

The media can be ruthless. The path to celebrity can also be ruthless. When you sign aboard, you may get more than you bargained for. So at the end of the day, if you can’t stand the heat, get out of the restaurant.

Starbucks Coffee Gets Roasted

Just about everyone now knows Starbucks has taken it on the chin, lately. According to a recent Los Angeles Times article, to name a few, Starbucks reported a loss of $6.7 for the third fiscal quarter. That’s a lot of beans. Additionally, Starbucks is closing 600 under performing stores.

I am not sure what the mystery is here. If you overextend your brand and start putting up a Starbucks one right next to the other, sooner or later you will either oversaturate or people will grow tired of looking at you. It is like showing up for a party in the same dress. Dazzling for a minute, and then, doesn’t she have anything else to wear?

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My friend Harris called it first. He got his two cents in long before all the pundits and predictions. In fact, some of the great stock tipsters and economic forecasters were predicting that Starbuck’s stock was going to rise as it spread its franchise to foreign shores. Not Harris. He thought it was a bunch of baloney. People he said, in tough times, are not going to stand in line and spend that dough for what he categorized as burnt coffee. Ain’t happening.

He was right. Starbucks should have gotten smart early and sat down with Harris and asked him his thoughts. They could have paid him for his consultation. I know this. It would have cost them a lot less money.

Fuel Prices Send American Workers Below the Border

I noticed this article in the San Diego Union-Tribune about American drivers going down below the border to buy diesel fuel at half the price they can get it here.

Bus service may be halted today

By Omar Millán González

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UNION-TRIBUNE
June 19, 2008

TIJUANA – Truck and bus drivers experienced a day of chaos in Tijuana yesterday, as they chased a dwindling supply of diesel fuel. Today was shaping up to be even worse.

DAVID MAUNG
Pemex gas station manager Claudia Torres placed a sign yesterday to block the entrance to the diesel pumps after the Tijuana station ran out of the fuel.

For weeks, drivers from the United States have snapped up Mexican diesel, which is selling for about 50 percent less than in California.

That has resulted in a shortage of the fuel, and gas stations nearest the border crossings started halting or limiting sales last weekend.

By yesterday, diesel had started to run out at outlying stations, provoking delays or cancellations in public and private transportation. New supplies might not arrive until Monday.

Long lines of trucks and buses, their drivers desperate to buy diesel, formed at those stations still selling the fuel.

Public transportation officials announced that if they could not refuel their buses they would halt service today, a decision that affects at least 750,000 daily riders.

For the entire article go to San Diego Union.

It’s pretty amazing. Once upon a time people went south of the border to Mexico for romantic reasons. They were escaping the reach of the American law. They were getting married or getting divorced. They were young and restless, looking for a good time in the Tijuana night spots, drinking and cavorting. Looking for the fabled donkey show, or for the more romantic sort that special girl or boy who amid all the drinking still cared enough not to throw up on their sandals.

Stories abounded about kids getting a little too frisky and getting thrown into jail. Their parents or whomever who would have to shell out some cash to get them out. There were stories about the nasty stays in jail, known by most as life changing experiences. The Kingston Trio wrote a song about it, titled appropriately enough, “Tijuana Jail.” If you survived it all, and usually you did, it was a right of passage.

Then, even today there are the short hops from the California Border to Rosarito Beach and Ensenada for beer fests, partying and the occasional lobster meal. You could ride horses on the beach, cheaply. You could buy great Mexican tile by the truckload and save money on your home renovation. You could buy leather goods and switchblade knives. Cheap ones, but it was a five minute thrill to flick it open and closed a few dozen times.

Now you go south of the border to buy gasoline. More specifically, it’s diesel fuel you buy at half the price. You venture to Mexico for diesel fuel, prescription drugs and dental and medical work. It’s cheaper. There are chartered buses for the dental and medical work. For the diesel fuel, you need your car or truck.

So the lines form. Orderly lines, I’m sure. All while the Mexican drug cartels duel it out on the border town streets, killing each other in record numbers. While you buy diesel fuel.

Some world. Eh, Ese`?