Stoned again. I sat at my eclectically trashed desk eating unaltered Instant Ramen. I wonder why I could not make my New Year’s Resolution more productive and normal. I grunt the frog from my throat and gaze down at the pink packaging in front of me. Tonight, rather than growing up, I have a date with the candy that looks most designed for children 6 and under.
Opening the website to the Big Wheel of Recommendations (wheeldecide.org): time slows down. The slices condense and collapse like a black hole. The site chugs at a measly 15 frames per second. Abstract patterns emerge from the wheel itself as the rigidity of its straight, even, slices lose meaning. 1089 entries and growing is a daunting amount of choice for this world.
But, I made a commitment. For the past five years, nearly every week I have found the pleasure of meeting with friends from around the globe. We discuss strange, avant-garde movies, attempting to make sense of them and sate our appetite for something new in an increasingly homogenized cinema landscape. However, as an escape from the madness, we end each meeting with my favorite ritual.
On 01/30/2022, we began sharing our passions. Every meeting, for the last half hour, each member may offer up to two recommendations of anything they found enriching, exciting, joyous, calming, or any other productive emotion that improved their lives. It is what kept the lights on this week, what kept the dark thoughts away. It is like bringing your special butternut squash to Thanksgiving, but less nourishing, and cheaper, too. In the interest of further connecting with the people I love, rekindling my love of writing, and fueling my insatiably growing ego: I’ve chosen to start a blog.
Updated without regular schedule, and entirely unprofessional: welcome to Hopelessly Devoted: An Obsession on the World.
I know have padded this initial blog post enough already, but this is my diary! Not yours. And all of my diaries must start with a double-wide entry to establish rules. This is for my pleasure, while I will acknowledge impossible, irresponsible, or ruinous options that come off the wheel, I retain full veto power on anything that I consider damaging to my life in some way. In most cases, I will try to find a similar but alternate path to explore some of the ideas asked of me, but not in all cases. For example, “Quit Your Job” may one day be transformed into a several-week vacation, or a renewed exploration of the job market without actually ending my career.
It’s all for free, after all.
Anyways, 01/01/2025, seeking direction and community, I spun the wheel. I sweat as invisibly small opportunities on the freeware randomizer flew past. There are some expensive or life-altering options to pull from here. Mercifully, my pal Leora has delivered an attainable goal for me:
Several days later, I found myself unexpectedly cheery on a lunch break. I drove to Sheetz, the premier gas station convenience store. For about four dollars, I pluck the bright pink bag of Nerd’s Gummy Clusters from the branch-like spoke. I hope like Eve to be granted knowledge from this forbidden fruit.
The packaging itself is almost garish. The offensive pink is inhabited by Wonka’s small Nerd creatures. The smile and lick their lips: at me or the futuristic centerpiece of this image? Either way, fight or flight fills me with the feeling that I must attempt to punt one of these… things… through the uprights of a football field. Someday maybe.
In the center of the cover image, an edible version of the Jimmy Neutron scene transition animations greet me. It seems impossibly decadent. To confirm that this is not being falsely advertised, I pinch out one of the tiny gummy clusters and compare it with the image. They nailed it: it is a fruit snack encrusted in small Nerd’s sugar rocks. It looks more like a pill designed for children, and with the express purpose to help them bounce around the walls.
In creations like these, it is difficult to see the divisive line between divinity and damnation.
Taking a bite into the Nerd’s Gummy Cluster - Rainbow Flavor, the first thing you notice is pleasant surprise. The candied crust is nowhere near as stiff as a typical box of nerds. Holding it in your hand, you are able to pinch and smoosh the candy into a variety of shapes, and that same fluffy quality is upheld on contact with your tongue. Then, a sweet, almost sour fruity flavor expands across your palate. The “tangy & crunchy outside,” is perfectly complimented by the “sweet and gummy inside.” Your eyes flash. Your mouth salivates. A force beyond your control lifts your arm and guides it back towards the bag. A serving size of 16 tiny morsels should be cause for riot. With nearly 50 pieces in the bag, it seems reasonable to work through them tonight.
I am no stranger to this sweetness. I have long been addicted to the Nerd’s Gummy Clusters. I am the furthest thing from a culinary expert. In fact, my food opinions and lack of general experience in eating offend many. However, this is not just candy. This is religion and salvation. It is connection to youth and joy.
My room is a disaster. I have not exercised intentionally in over six months. My hair is unwashed and there are dishes to do. I smoke with the blinking “0% juice” on my vape as a companion. If I eat too many of these gummy clusters, I won’t make it to work tomorrow out of fear of having a dense stomach. But for now, I am just happy to be sitting and contemplating these stupid things. It reminds me of Leora recommending them on 12/10/2023. It reminds me of Videodrome, the movie we discussed, and my friend Nate who loves it. I can’t wait to show them my blog.
This might be the first New Year’s Resolution I keep.
Nerd’s Candy Gummy Clusters | *****