Let me explain. Where to start . . .

Life was very different when I was growing up than it is now. I feel so SORRY for kids today. Most of them have no childhood to speak of.

Yes, we may not have had all the MATERIAL things kids have today, but we did have all the IMPORTANT things—the things that build character and add quality to life.

I was lucky enough to grow up in an intact family (not unusual in the forties and fifties), the eldest of three children of two responsible adults. Although my parents were only twenty-three and nineteen when they married, they both shouldered their responsibilities and never wavered. Dad didn't always bring home a lot of money, but he did bring home what he was paid. He didn't throw it away in bars or anywhere else. And Mom stayed home with us, kept the house clean and neat, and we always had good meals and clean clothes to wear.

Their German heritage didn't allow much demonstrative or verbal affection, but we knew we were loved, because we received appropriate discipline and an unfailing sense of security that all was well. We also enjoyed simple family activities. It was always a treat when Dad got out the big mixer and whipped up a batch of chocolate malts after supper. Or we all made popcorn balls at Halloween. Or we had a family taffy pull. Or Dad got out the deep fryer and made scrumptious donuts.

And it wasn't all food-oriented either. When I was about nine or ten Mom bought some plastic and rubber molds, and we all learned how to make plaster-of-paris figurines and plaques. Mom learned right along with us, as we made Indian plaques and even a Nativity set. Then we had fun painting them. Sometimes we worked giant jigsaw puzzles together on a fold-up card table.

But the "big" family fun activity was playing multi-handed solitaire at the kitchen table. The winner was whoever managed to get rid of the most cards, and Mom played for "blood"! We often joked that, when Mom got going, someone was likely to "pull back a stub"! But it was all in good fun, and we laughed and shared together, establishing family traditions at the same time.

And the discipline? That didn't necessarily equal corporal punishment (although we got that, too, if appropriate), but merely that we had household rules, and we knew better than to step out of line. Mom was quick with the yardstick, but if we outran her through the barnyard (until she stepped in a pile of manure), you heard "Wait 'til your Daddy gets home," and that inevitably conjured up accurate visions of his bringing out (and using) the dreaded "big black belt"!

It took only a couple of swats, but boy, they were meaningful! I remember "getting it" only a couple of times, because just the threat of it was enough to keep us on the straight and narrow.

House rules prohibited any of us kids from just going to the kitchen and helping ourselves to whatever we wanted. We always had to ask before we were allowed to get anything to eat in between meals. And the answer was a firm "NO" if it was too close to mealtime. Or if we'd already "had enough." Or simply "because I said so." There was no wheedling or bargaining or pouting. NO meant NO, and there was consistency from beginning to end!

It was all so unlike today, where anything and everything goes, where kids—and adults—walk around continually with gigantic containers of soda pop, where HUGE candy bars are run-of-the-mill, where an attitude of there's-always-more-where-that-came-from prevails, where life is a continuous feast of desserts and junk foods, and where none of those things is looked upon as a treat, because they are so commonplace. (Any wonder that obesity is one of the major health problems in the US?)

Ours treats were just that, because they came very dear. Maybe a cookie or two a day (fresh baked, out of the cookie jar, usually). An occasional nickel or dime would take us flying to the little mom-and-pop grocery a block away to indulge in a fudgsicle or a popsicle (grape was heavenly). And sometimes we bought candy: Chuckles, Bit o' Honey, licorice, Mary Jane's, Necco Wafers, Tootsie Rolls, or maybe a Butterfinger, Clark Bar, Hershey, Baby Ruth, or O'Henry—and KING SIZE was unheard of.

Sometimes we bought gum: remember Teaberry's, Blackjack, and Clove? And we also had an occasional Coke (6-ounce, in a glass bottle) or an orange or grape Ne-Hi, or Hires' root beer.

Oh, and something else we used to do as a family, usually on a weekend night: Mom would pop a big batch of buttered popcorn (real butter) and stir up a container of Kool-Aid (with sugar), and they'd treat us to a movie at the drive-in. The only thing we usually went to the concession stand for was to use the bathroom. It was a fun time, an unusual treat, didn't cost a limb or two, and it kept us close.

So I ask, are you getting your just desserts—a reward, a treat—keeping things in perspective and balance, so that you really do have a sense of appreciation? Or are you getting "just another dessert"? (Are your desserts really "treats" for you, or are they totally meaningless, like so many things in our material mindset of today?) Sometimes less really is more!

And so, you may ask, what does all this have to do with marketing? Absolutely nothing! Zilch! Sometimes I just need to sound off and hope that it will have some sort of a positive impact on someone, somewhere, somehow! :-)