I’m 53 years old and I have to confess — I still like grape Koolaid. Real Koolaid made from the packet with cold tap water and honest-to-God sugar. The taste of grape Koolaid reminds me of summer and 1960s/70s kid-dom.
I still like Cap’n Crunch cereal, though I rarely eat it anymore. I first met the Captain in my college cafeteria at the continental breakfast buffet. There he was, all golden sugary goodness in a silver serving bowl. (The campus foodservice didn’t want students to take the cereal boxes to their tables.) The Captain and I had it goin’ on at the breakfast bar for two years running, and we continued to see each other when I moved off campus. As happens in many relationships, ours has changed with time. These days we get together only for an occasional snack.
Not everything I still like involves sugar. I still like newspapers — both for the news contained within as well as the texture of the paper and smudge of the ink. I like that I can hold it, fold it, read it, skim it, pick it up, or put it down whenever I want.
I still like the smell of the post office — when the lobby is empty after business hours. The combination of closed-up mustiness, air conditioning, and postage stamps gets me every time I deposit my letters in the lobby mail slot.
And, of course, I still like writing letters, with ink pen on paper. I’m partial to clickable black ballpoint pens with a rubbery grip. I have a collection of cards, note pads, and loose leaf paper to suit whatever mood I’m in when inspiration strikes.
I still like a lot more things, but I’ll save the rest for later.