Sunday, May 06, 2007
An Open Letter To The Great Creator Of Chicken In A Bucket - Colonel Sanders
We both may have lived in entirely different generations, but we both share great love of a time among southern accents, white suits, an original recipe of 11 unknown herbs and spices, and above all - the perfection of deep frying in a sweet treat of pure American fat.
Today, for the first time ever, I tried your organizations “new” non-trans fat chicken. To be more specific --Popcorn Chicken (by the way, I love the mini popcorn bucket concept you came up with) and let me just say it doesn't still have that great taste I've grown to love. Actually it taste like nothing. Yes sir, like nothing. In fact, Tofurky carries more flavoring (although I've never actually tried that horrid stuff.)
It may look like chicken and come in a package with your image on it - but it sure doesn’t taste like anything you would have ever approved of.
While eating this blasphemy, I reflected on so many happy moments with your chicken throughout my life. As a small child, my mother coming home late from work smelling like alcohol -- but stopping for a bucket along the way would make things feel better (“Sorry kids, I got another flat tire again…”). Grandma telling me my father was in a car accident – but a stop to the local KFC on the way to the hospital to sneak dad a chicken wing would cheer us all up (“feed it to me son....I can’t move my hands right now...”) In my school-age years, being the new kid on campus (again) bringing a bucket to the 'cool kids’ house for a pool party would instantly produce new friends (“hey chicken guy! Yeah you- you’re totally awesome!”) As a teenager, getting my acceptance letter into art school and celebrating down at the local KFC with the neighborhood goth kids, yelling and jumping on the chairs (“DM 101 Rocks! And so does this chicken!”)
So many memories and now it comes to an end.
When I was done (no finger-lickin' this time) for a moment I saw your image on the box cry. Yes, cry - with tears of blood (or spilled BBQ sauce.)
Just like that “new” Coke experiment, I hope your corporate management sees the error of their ways and brings back the original (maybe you need to haunt the headquarters to shake things up a bit – be sure to use a deep moaning voice and fireworks.)
But until that day comes, I’m going to Popeyes and making new memories.
Your biggest fan,