Hands in the Cookie Jar

Sometimes I’m really glad I don’t live in Colorado. Don't get me wrong, Colorado has some fantastic attributes: air that is fresh (and sometimes pot-filled), views that are breathtaking, and, periodically, a really great football team. It could be heaven. It can also be hell: an Oreo-free hell. (Is there any other kind?)

First, you must know that the ATG girls love us some Oreos. In fact, this decades-long friendship was essentially born over Oreo scarfing and Jenny Jones watching. I don’t eat these delicious treats much anymore, but I will always have fond feelings towards them (especially ones straight out of the freezer…A-MAZING).

But you know who apparently doesn’t have fond feelings towards Oreos? Coloradoans. Or, more specifically, the administrators at Children’s Academy in Aurora, CO. They recently sent one of their 4-year-old students home with a baggie of uneaten Oreos and a note that went a little something like this:

Dear Parents, it is very important that all students have a nutritious lunch. This is a public school setting and all children are required to have a fruit, a vegetable, and a healthy snack from home, along with milk. If they have potatoes, the child will also need bread to go along with it. Lunchables, chips, fruit snacks, and peanut butter are not considered to be a healthy snack. This is a very important part of our program and we need everyone's participation.

So, to recap, every child at this uber healthy (and superior-feeling) public school is required to bring a fruit, veggie and milk. Required. What if they’re lactose intolerant? Is this school getting kickbacks from Borden? And how about the Lunchables thing? Is it only Lunchables that are prohibited or can children not have any kind of sandwich meat/processed cheese? And then there’s the bit about “If they have potatoes, the child will also need bread to go along with it.” Since when is a lunch of bread and potatoes healthy? It sounds like carbo loading to me. And in case you were unaware, carbs are the devil. They will kill you. Slowly. Much like watching anything on the E! network will.

Listen, it’s one thing for schools to not provide junk food for their students. In fact, a lot of schools are hopping on the healthy-eating bandwagon, either by choice or by force. That’s fine. If they want to fill their vending machines with tofu and seltzer water, great. Beautiful. That’s their business. But to flat-out tell parents what they can and cannot feed their children for lunch?! Does that not take micromanaging to a whole new level? (And believe me, if anyone knows micromanaging it’s me. So me.) The phrase “mind your business” comes to mind.

I have two thoughts on this. First, doesn’t human behavior dictate that when you make something totally illegal, totally impermissible and totally verboten, you also make it totally appealing? This school is pretty much guaranteeing that all of its students will be 400 pounds by high school graduation.

And two, in a world where children aren’t even safe at school – from violence, abuse or bullying – aren’t there more important conversations we should be having? Is a delicious crème-filled chocolate cookie really the problem? I'm leaning towards no.

And on that note, I’m off to buy a package of Double Stuf Oreos. We as Americans must stand united on this; we must make our voices heard.

So I will overindulge on Oreos, not because I want to, but because, as a true patriot, it is my duty.

I’m sure I won’t enjoy a single bite.

Only the Good Die Young

Confession time. Despite the TERRIBLE accents, melodramatic performances, and silly storyline, I kind of love Varsity Blues. It’s a guilty pleasure of mine and, having gone to high school in Texas, I spent many years thinking it was a documentary. Apparently it’s not. Apparently everyone in this movie is an “actor” - and I use the term loosely.

I mean, who doesn’t cringe when James Van Der Beek confronts his father, in a painfully bad, stilted southern accent, with “I don’t…want…your life.”? So bad. So bad it’s good. But the best part of this deliciously awful celluloid is, inarguably, the beautiful Paul Walker.

With his piercing blue eyes and tall, athletic frame, he was the stuff dreams are made of.

Tragically, Paul and his friend, Roger Rodas, went the way of James Dean when they were killed in a car crash late last year. The details of the crash have been widely publicized - and won’t be regurgitated here - but what hasn’t gotten much press (at least not to my knowledge) and what bears mentioning, is a story that speaks not to how Paul died, but how he lived.

So often after someone dies, (s)he is essentially canonized in people’s memories. It’s almost sacrilegious to speak ill of the dead. Paul Walker was no different. So when his dad gave an interview about how wonderful Paul had been, how he was a generous spirit who loved his daughter and never denied his fans a photo or autograph, I figured it was to be taken with a substantial grain of salt. Then I read about an encounter my blue-eyed darling had with a soldier and his wife in a Santa Barbara jewelry store.
 

I really just can't get enough of his face.

In 2004, Kyle and Kristen Upham were engagement ring shopping when they came face-to-face with Paul Walker himself. The Fast and Furious star struck up a conversation with the couple, which is how he learned that Kyle had just returned from his first deployment in Iraq and how he was now anxious to buy his lady her dream ring. Unfortunately, dreams don’t have a budget, while a man on a limited salary does. Although they found the perfect ring, the couple left empty-handed. Imagine their surprise then, to later be called back to the store and handed a bag with the $10,000 ring inside. The only catch was that no one would divulge who their Daddy Warbucks was.

After the death of the Varsity Blues actor, however, the rest of the story emerged. According to the lucky saleswoman who happened to be working that day, after seeing the couple leave without the much-desired ring, warm-hearted Walker purchased the diamond for the pair. His only request was that his good deed remain anonymous. And it did. Until his death.

Kindness for the sake of kindness. What a novel idea. 

See?

Obviously I didn’t know Paul Walker. I don’t know what he was like from day-to-day. But I think it’s safe to say that a man – a celebrity no less – who purchases a gift, of any size really, for two people he’s just met and asks only that his generosity remain anonymous, well, that guy can’t be all bad; he’s probably not spending his evenings stealing hubcaps and kicking puppies.

All joking aside, it’s a lovely story and one that we can all learn from. May we all live in such a way that, when our card is finally punched, we leave behind an Upham or two. A group of people to recount to the world what amazing people we were and how pretty we were on the inside.

And, let’s be honest, the outside too.

Paul Walker: just as pretty on the inside