Froot Loops and Red Boxes

They’ve done it again. Both the New York Times and The Oregonian have put a major media story, affecting millions of kids, on their business pages.

The story is that Kellogg Co., under pressure from a lawsuit brought by child health advocacy groups and two parents, is phasing out its advertising of sugary, fat-laden foods to children under 12.

The company will also stop using branded toys and cartoon characters to market products that fail Kellogg’s nutritional guidelines. A whole host of Kellogg’s products fail to meet the guidelines: Froot Loops, Apple Jacks, Pop-Tarts, Rice Krispies, Cocoa Krispies, to name the most familiar.

So much for food that’s “fun” to eat.

So why, pray tell, is this a business story? Because it might affect Kellogg’s stock? Because rice manufacturers might take a hit?

No, this is a story that belongs on the front page in 48 point type. Parents need to see it far more than investors do.

Couple the story with the surge (there’s that word again) in childhood obesity over the last few years. Food like this and inactivity caused by screen addictions and physical inactivity are the causes.

The business page of The Oregonian featured another related media story worthy of the front page. “Happy Meal and a McDVD to go” reads the headline. Seems that McDonald's patrons soon will be able to rent DVDs from vending machines at McDonald’s outlets.

The story carries a photo of a rotund woman selecting a DVD from one of the bright red vending machines. “Happy Meals” could well be her staple. One can hope, although it is unlikely, that she intends to watch her DVD while on an exer-cycle. According to calorieking.com, she’ll need to exercise for 91 minutes to burn off the 600 calories in a “Happy Meal.” If she’s into cheeseburger Happy Meals and soft drinks, which appears likely, she can add another 30 minutes on the bike.

But because this to is written and presented as a business story, the connection between “Happy Meals” and DVDs and obesity is unacknowledged.

By the way, McDonald’s founded the DVD rental company, Red Box, spun it off but still owns a large share of it.

It’s a deadly combo.

The larger question, and the one that is hard to track unless you have the stomach for a lot of TV, is how, and whether, these stories played on television. Most people in this country get their news from television, which may explain the fix we are in.

Sex, SOLV and civic pride

Combing Barbur Boulevard’s shoulders for litter this morning as a SOLV volunteer (Quick, what does SOLV stand for?) was a not an unpleasant experience.

Note the inescapable nuancing.

Sure, I find it annoying that motorists still use the Great Outdoors as a trash receptacle. I mean, who are these people?

Well, smokers for one. At times my litter picking was a kind of cigarette butt-a-thon.

A certain litter-collecting detachment is called for at times like this. Trying to think well of these smoking litter-bugs, the best I could come up with was, “Good luck with the chemo.”

The other major littering group are fast food and soft drink patrons. Smashed cans and wrappings from McDonald’s and Subway are their tossed leavings.

Reaching for the scraps with my arm extending litter “grabber,” stuffing the waste into my SOLV bag, I also reached for more detachment, warding off junk-food thoughts of diabetes and clogged arteries,

(Still working on SOLV? Frankly I can’t think of it myself. Something to do with Volunteers, Oregon, Litter and … what?….Super? Solution? Staunchly? Stamp-out? AHHH. Stamp-out Oregon Litter, Volunteers? Oh, never mind….Back to the trash….)

Sometimes the clean-up uncovers trash of distinction, but nothing interesting surfaced this time.

Instead I retrieved:

The inevitable walnut-sized chunks of Styrofoam. Trust me, the last human creation on the planet, eons from now, will be such a moldering chunk.

Shredded plastic bags, a few mossy bottles, creased and discolored candy wrappers, most notably from Reese’s Pieces (ET go home!) and Snickers.

Some worn and discolored sheet metal and strands of banding. Ugly but probably valuable.

Cast-off hub caps, but plastic, cheap and shattered. Ah, for one of those shiny '50s VW disks.

Nothing to seize the imagination.

Once on one of these litter-gathering outings I found a pristine pair of stiletto high-heels along the much littered Multnomah Boulevard I-5 off ramp.

“Whoa!” I thought as I gripped my grabber more tightly and launched into a sex-filled fantasy laced with booze, flirtatious taunts and even noir-ish homocide.

Could such imaginings be the reason I volunteer for SOLV (Still working on it?). Or is it the nose-to-the-ground concentration, the vague reflections on chance and trash. The finicky sordidness of it all as the traffic whooshes past.

It could be simpler than that. After a couple hours’ work with two or three friends, Barbur Boulevard or Capitol Highway or the Multnomah I-5 off-ramp does look measurably better to us and to thousands of motorists.

The reward is civic satisfaction.

Anything beyond that is just so much Styrofoam frosting — or stilettos shoes.

Oh, and looking up what SOLV stands for on the SOLV web site, I find….absolutely NOTHING! They don’t know what it means either! Or, if they know, they aren’t telling, like some kind of secret handshake.

For the rest of us, SOLV is a contrivance or a state of mind (see above).

If you want to pursue the SOLV name business, fine. Let me know what your find out. I’m going to take a well-deserved nap.