Catholic School Kindergarten is a Cruel and Shallow Money Trench, a Long Plastic Hallway Where Thieves and Pimps Run Free. There’s Also a Negative Side.

1973.

Richard Nixon was in the White House, dealing with the parallel sh*t-storms known as the Vietnam War and Watergate.

Elton John dominated the radio airwaves.

And a tiny, Germanic, 60-year-old Catholic School Kindergarten teacher turned unsuspecting 5 year-olds into hard-core junkies.

***Dealing with the Parallel Sh*t-Storms Known as Cocaine Abuse and Trademark Infringement.***

We called our teacher Miss Jenny. There was nothing remotely sexy about this sexagenarian.

But Miss Jenny was the undisputed Queen of Snack Time.

2pm Snack Time was the cherished Kindergarten ritual at Jesus H. Christ!! Academy (what it would be called if I had naming rights.)

This 10-minute afternoon snack break was the highlight of a rousing day filled with:

Reading about God.

Hearing about God.

Singing about God.

Praying to God.

(Never) Swearing to God.

And of course…Arithmetic. Which was solely invented by God to allow us to count up all the sins we needed to repent.

Sure, you could bring your own edibles to Snack Time, but Miss Jenny strongly preferred you didn’t.

You see, she had a cottage industry of sorts which involved selling over-priced puffed cheese snacks to an all-too-willing audience. History has labeled this transgression “Doodlegate”.

And much like Tricky Dick, Jenny from the Bloc(k) would never be impeached for her crimes.

***Ok, Who Here Authorized an Illegal Hotel Break-In to Help Get Re-Elected? Just Point to the Answer if It Was You.***

For the unaware, “Cheez Doodles” is a registered trademark of Wise Foods. I can still picture the yellow, blue and red “confetti” bag from that time period. Miss Jenny’s bag, however, was white, extra large and said something like “Cheese Curls” on it.

Sure, they looked like real Doodles. They even had a Doodle-ish taste and consistency. But there was nothing Wise about the short curls this old bag was pushing on her students. Hers were the far more sinister Generic Doodle.

First, it was a couple of kids under her spell. By the end of that school year, every last one of us would have followed her into Hell (um, or the upstairs place) for another taste of her salty wares.

Now, let’s put those God-given arithmetic skills to good use for a moment.

An extra large bag of Cheez Doodles (the REAL ones) cost approximately 60 cents in 1973. Let’s assume a price point somewhere around 45 cents for the generic bag.

Miss Jenny charged her kids 25 cents for one handful. Did I mention Miss Jenny was about 4’2”? This meant that her liver-spotted quasi-child claw could grab approximately 5 or 6 generic doodles.

This also meant that the markup on Jenny’s Doodles was about…ummm, carry the 2…ummm, PEMDAS something something…like a million billion percent.

In the high stakes world of pre-pubescent carb-loading, Miss Jenny was a motha-truckin’ pimp.

And she is, quite possibly, the only Swiss bank account holder who ever worked for God. Except for everyone at the Vatican.

Hey, at least Miss Jenny threw in a napkin as part of the transaction. You can rob a child blind, but only a heathen would allow dusty orange crumbles on a sleepy-time mat. Is that what’s meant by “Honor Among Thieves”?

Assuming Miss Jenny were alive today doing her thing, she’d probably charge $6 or $7 for a clawful.

If the sodium didn’t kill the kiddies, I’m sure inflation would have.

***If She Bought These from Miss Jenny, it’s Safe to Say She Pretty Much Blew Through All the Money She Made on Glee.***

Sure, Catholic School was an unexpected introduction to microeconomic theory. But let’s face it: in light of all the darkness in the world, a far more pressing question was pondered in those hallowed halls of heavenly high jinks. Dare I say, the MOST IMPORTANT QUESTION IN THE HISTORY OF MANKIND:

Does God even give a holy f*ck about nutrition in His schools?!?

Orange-colored corn meal puffs aside, allow me to take you on a whirlwind tour of childhood Catholic School cafeteria edibles (or as I now like to call them “God Slop”).

Fish Sticks

When I think of Catholic School, invariably my FIRST thought is the massive, see-through oil stain left behind by the sticks o’ fish on the cheap white paper plate. This is the likely reason why I do not enjoy fish as an adult.

Catholics love to push the whole “Don’t eat meat on Fridays” thing. It’s a shame the Church didn’t also promote the whole “Don’t eat breaded fragments of third-rate flounder fried in vegetable shortening” thing.

Holy Menu Tip #1: If by the time you get a food item back to the lunch table it has magically (miraculously?) enabled you to see through dishware, do not place that item in your stomach.

***Eat His Body. Drink His Blood. Avoid His Lunchrooms on Fridays.***

Sloppy Joes

I think this abomination of a sandwich was somehow meant to be an homage to Jesus’ stepfather. But c’mon, St. Joseph, couldn’t He muster a better tribute than low-grade chop meat soaked in oily red paste?

Personally, though, I could eat, like, 6 full bottles of your delicious orange aspirin in one sitting. So kudos on those edibles, Joe. I never ONCE had a headache when getting my stomach pumped.

Isn’t It Time YOU OD’d on Medicine Candy? — **Isn’t It Time *YOU* OD’d on Medicine Candy?**

Pork Roll

For Middle-Atlantic dwelling parishioners, this slab of fried, processed meat by-product is also known as Taylor Ham. I’m guessing Mr. Taylor was no stranger to the uninhibited joys of gastric bypass surgery.

This circular piece of I-don’t-exactly-know-what is generally served with a slice of American “Cheese” on it.

So why is the word “cheese” in quotes here? Because this type of dairy cannot legally be sold under the authentic name of cheese. Federal and state laws mandate that the American variety be labeled as “processed cheese” or more likely “cheese product”. And of course, this holy creation is sandwiched on a near-nutritionally-null white flour roll.

But here’s the God-kicker: Taylor Ham is prepared with 4 small cuts made along its outer edge to prevent uneven cooking. This makes each slice look like a tiny…circular… CROSS.

Think God is playing laissez-faire with His school lunches NOW?

***In the Name of the Father, the Son and the Wholly Inedible. Amen.***

Interesting fact: Mr. Taylor originally called his product “Taylor’s Prepared Ham” but was forced to change the name when the FDA determined that it failed to meet the legal definition of ham.

I never imagined pigs high-fiving each other until just this very moment.

French Fries

I once heard a co-worker describe French Fries as “God’s Food”.

After spending 12 years attending four separate Catholic schools, I can state with no uncertainty that oil-soaked spuds were the most prominent vittles in His lunch rooms. There was a different cut of fry for every day of the week (Shoestring on Monday through Waffle on Friday). And apparently on the 7th Day, God created Tater Tots.

I can’t quite figure out God’s complete allegiance to potatoes, oil, France and/or Belgium, but I can say this: If God is Good, and Food is Good, does that mean God is Food?

TastyKake

I’m not sure why this Philadelphia-based, nutritionally-vapid snack treat company was so opposed to using the letter “C” in their product names. I’m even more bewildered how they had our lunch rooms on utter lockdown in the 70’s and 80’s.

Our Katholic kafeterias kontained kalamitous kollections of Krimpets, Kandy Kakes, Kandy Bars and kountless konfectionery koncoctions to kause us komplete kardiac kollapse.

And I won’t even mention the copious amounts of soda and artificially-flavored fruit drinks we could choose from to wash down our kardiac Krimpets, fried fish and pseudo pork. No, I won’t mention that at all.

Holy Menu Tip #2: If you truly feel the need to snack on something from Philadelphia, you’d do better gnawing on the Liberty Bell. At least that has some iron.

Oh God, Why Do You Dessert Us in Our Hour of Nutritional Need? — **Oh God, Why Do You *Dessert* Us in Our Hour of Nutritional Need?**

Of course, a kid should be able to enjoy the simple pleasure of an Oreo or potato chip every now and again. Sugared and salted treats are fine in MODERATION because childhood should be fun.

Thankfully, my parents had the good sense to also provide a steady stream of vegetables and fruit throughout my childhood. I make sure my daughter Sabrina eats protein, fiber and good carbs, but sometimes the kid wants some damn ice cream. That’s why it’s called a “treat” – because it’s the exception, not the norm.

I just don’t think kids should be force-fed a steady diet of extremes without any basis in realistic fundamentals. Wait…are we still talking about food?

God, I hope so.

***Ok, Who Here Gave a Federal Badge to a Pill-Popping, Gun-Toting, Hip Swerver Who Sings the Devil’s Music? Just Shake the Hand of the Guy in a Cape if It Was You.***

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