i had an early conversation online about the addiction quotient of mcdonalds oatmeal raisin cookies which sell on the dollar menu @ 3/99 cents plus tax. not that they need any help promoting their menu but my obsession for this cookie made the local mickeydees my choice for a quick dinner.
we had not gotten out of the house all day. on vacation time, i eat past midnight, i go to sleep with tavis smiley lit in the room and the floor lap burning across the room. i wake around 10 or 11 and write, read, nap and write for most of the day until about 7 into the pm.
they serve the perfect marriage of pickle, to ketchup, beef, cheese and the reconstituted onion bits in their cheeseburgers!!! its a simple joy that is consistent with its standardized hamburger operational practices. its grease and smells take me back to the los angeles of the late 1970’s. my family would drive into the city by freeway, and the food smells and excretions puffing out of k’town were mesmerizing. i still cringe at how despotic my brother and i were to our parents in our weekly decision makings over Burger King vs McDonalds for the happy meal toy. everything we bought and ate together as a family had an exotic appeal of what it was to be “american”. our assimilation would come from the food in this new land. funny how we imagined assimilation as a commodity, something that could be acquired by consumption, imitation and osmosis.