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Saturday, January 7, 2006

Frankenberry, improving racial relations since 1971

In hindsight, this is a very bizarre story. I remembered it on my way to work this morning:

My freshman year of college (2001), I, like many freshman living in the dorms, would often enjoy breakfast at the oft-maligned Krasa Center. While the Kras has quite the array of choices for both lunch and dinner, their breakfast selection is very sparse and always repetitive. With that knowledge I sent my mom on a mission. To improve my breakfasts, I had her get me a box of Frankenberry.

If you're not familiar with Frankenberry, I feel a little bit sorry for you. Essentially, Frankenberry is the strawberry flavored cousin of Count Chocula. Rather than a chocolate flavored morsel, Frankenberry's is pink and stawberry and the marshmallows follow the same design. It is my favorite cereal and can be easily combined with Count Chocula to form a delicious hybrid that I like to call Dr. Chocoberry. But I digress.

After my mother delivered the coveted Frankenberry I soon began singing it's praises. This lead to an all to familiar "Prove It" challenge. Since there was rarely milk in my dorm fridge, my box of Frankenberry would often accompany me to the Kras for breakfast. While this in and of itself may sound strange, the story takes an even more bizarre twist.

One day while enjoying my Frankenberry, an older black student named Levar (or possibly Lamar, my memory fails me here) saw me eating the hard-to-find cereal.

"Is that Frankenberry? I love that stuff! Where do you find that [expletive]? I can't find that [expletive] anywhere!"

I explained to him that for some unbeknownst reason, tiny Plano, Illinois' Super Walmart often stocked Frankenberry, and even occassionally BooBerry. He was immediately jealous and shocked. I had no idea what to expect next.

"I'll give you money to have your mom get me a box."

I didn't know what to say. But after a little coaxing, Levar(Lamar) convinced me that he was good for the money. I also rationalized that even if he never got his Frankenberry, then I would have two boxes which isn't so bad. It was a while before my mom could deliver the goods to me at school, but Levar(Lamar) never forgot about their delivery. Consistent questioning of "When are those Frankenberries coming?" and "You got that Frankenberry yet?" only served as a reminder to me of how bizarre the situation truly was.

Eventually my mom delivered both my box and Levar(Lamar)'s. He couldn't have been happier the day that I handed over that delightful fuschia box and he immediately paid me the money that he had promised. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that I would become the Frankenberry supplier to Benedictine University, but it sure did feel good to spread the strawberry cheer.