A couple weeks ago I had the epiphany at Barnes & Noble, remember? The one where I realized I’m compulsive. I’d caught myself straightening and organizing the magazines, which were in chaos, I might add. And ever since, I’ve been jonesing for a Twinkie. That’s not as weird as it sounds. The CEO of Hostess was the cover story in the May issue of Forbes.
I took a break from sorting to read the blurb about how folks approach him and thank him for bringing back the Twinkie, a most American icon. They do? Seemed a little disingenuous. I mean, I like Twinkies, but I couldn’t pick the CEO out of a police line-up, let alone the general population. No way. And I doubt I’m unusual.
Would you recognize the CEO of Hostess? Did you know his name is C. Dean Metropoulos? I didn’t, either. In his cover photo he looks like the kind of guy who wears a pinkie ring. Apparently, he has quite a reputation for rescuing bankrupt companies and turning them into money-makers: Bumblebee Tuna, Chef Boyardee, Pabst Blue Ribbon.
Yeah, whoopee, a wheeler-dealer. He buys established, big name brands in trouble, automates them, makes a pile of cash, sells it for a bigger pile of cash, and moves on. Where’s the finesse, where’s the artistry? It just proves the old adage, ‘it takes money to make money.’
When he bought Hostess, the company wasn’t burdened with debt and pension costs and union demands. He had none of the liabilities and all the advantages of a hugely popular brand name. Seems like, pardon the pun, a cakewalk. A no-brainer. Now, they’re pumping out a million Twinkies a day. Picture a million of those high-calorie sugar bombs. Dentists and Dr. Atkins rejoice!
Now, designing dolls takes brains, designing anything, actually. You have to, again pardon the pun, start from scratch. There’s no head start involved. No, sir. You need a vision and craftsmanship, brilliance and passion. You need to be a little bent, too. That’s important.
These aren’t your garden-variety Barbie dolls. These are customized works of art. How I envy the talent it takes to create little wonders such as these. I wanna be an artist or a designer. I want to make stuff, amazing stuff, not just money. I want to make things I can hold in my hand and say I did this. I imagined it. Now, look.
Well, maybe in another life. If there is one, shouldn’t we get to decide what we come back as? Doesn’t that seem fair?
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