THE ALMOND JOY

By late March of 1962 our family had grown its number to 7. It was Mom and Dad and five little Moores. My mother was a school teacher and that meant her afternoons and weekends lacked an iota of Millennial Mom Self-Care ’Me’ Time. Working mothers were not the norm and so they had to be creative and improvise a lot. On Saturdays she would often pack us off to the local movie theater. For 35 cents a kid my mom bought several hours of ’babysitting’ which she leisurely used to run to no fewer than 2-3 grocery stores and chase down every other errand that she could squeeze in. And soooo, I never watched a movie just once… I loved that part. What a treat to see it and then turn around and see it at least one more time! Jerry Lewis, Annette Funicello, Elvis, Pollyanna and a host of other Disney favorites saturated my being on any given movie day.

Was it as satisfying as having carte blanche on a personal iPad? Like comparing apples and oranges… Who can say. Twenty five cents bought my way in and another 10 cents was all mine to splurge on the candy of my choice. Most kids liked to split that into two nickels. Sometimes I did too. So,I might get a Slo Poke and an Hershey chocolate bar. Or Junior Mints and Dots. My cousin remembers that I was the ONLY moviegoer in our bunch that blew my entire concession budget on just one single candy bar – an Almond Joy. That is very true. I did that often.

Almonds – 4 almonds to be exact sitting on a bed of coconut and covered in chocolate…sublime to the Nth degree. It was a delight to the taste buds that followed me home and lingered throughout the week. Nothing else compared to it. Nothing else even came close. It was the almonds. The chocolate was good and always welcomed. The coconut was exotic and I liked it’s unusual texture and chew. It was certainly not a staple in our kitchen. And, yet it was those almond shaped almonds with the crunch and flavor that knocked me out. The only other place and time I had an almond was on some rare Christmas when an aunt mixed them in with other unshelled nuts. I had to fight the almond out of its covering and then it didn’t compare to my Almond Joy. It wasn’t roasted… that was the secret. And, so those two mounds with the double almonds on each were nibbled as if I were sipping a fine wine. I could stretch out the pleasure to maybe as many as 20 scrumptious swallows.

I will confess that many times quantity won out over the ecstasy of my Joy. The Slo Poke I could make last if I concentrated through almost a whole movie. It was basically just a taffy/caramel confection on a stick but it delivered enough butter and sugar pleasure to see me through.

For most of my younger years The Almond Joy remained the Gold Standard for my Joy. There were other ’lesser’ competitors like Youngbloods fried chicken, a triple ice cream cone (chocolate, vanilla and strawberry – real ice cream, not the mellorine fake stuff), or a perfect hamburger to name a few. Other categories included clothes such as that brand new pair of school shoes, starchy petticoat, or the first time wearing crew socks that still had tight elastic and didn’t fall down. Toys were another kind of thrill. My first Barbie and those fabulous outfits, sometimes a new yoyo did the trick, glitter paint, or a groovy birthday watch with a black suede band made my heart flutter for a while.

The common denominator was that each of those felt unattainable. I chased them in my daydreams and longings. And, looking back I’d still have to give first prize to the Almond Joy. A thrill like none other.

This past Christmas we were gifted a box of nuts. Shelled and salted. It occurred to me that I was in no rush to open them. My nut rush had vanished. Presumably in that box were all the roasted almonds I could ever desire. And, yet I felt nothing. When I finally intended to indulge and took the top off the box I was doubly disappointed. It was 3/4 cashews! They’re ok but they are not the same as my almond treasures. Being honest with myself I had to admit that over the years almonds had become as common and attainable as bottled water… so even an unlimited life time supply of that nut could no longer raise my pulse.

This insight was followed by a bigger realization. Almost anything I wanted, desired or dreamed of was pretty much within my reach. In the material world I have been victorious, I have conquered or at least squelched the need for what I had once chased relentlessly. Hmmm. What is left? I am certain that I have even bigger and better moments of joy. Certainly new and different. Now my Almond Joy can come in the shape and form of rites of passage. The weddings of my children. The 1st, 2nd, and 3rd grandsons!!! Waiting for granddaughter Number One. Yippee. Or Sunday lunch with my mom and my sibs. Binging on silly, fun and inane light romantic comedy. Perfect blue skies with temps to match on my daily walks. But nothing, and I mean NOTHING touches the joy of grand baby unsolicited pure and from the heart SMILES. Those just slay me.

Peace and Joy. We wish each other that without a thought throughout the Christmas season. If I had to choose just one which would it be? Joy sounds like so much fun, and full of passion and laughter and lightness. Who wouldn’t want that all day long… Almond Joy, Christmas Joy and Family Joy – its the best that Humans can know. Can I sustain it? A permanent state of Joy – why not? Of course! Joy and more Joy and endless Joy

On the other hand, there is Peace. Eternal Peace. Inner Peace. Peace that passeth all understanding. That’s tempting too.

BUT – Not as jazzy. Not so thrilling. Not so ‘high’.

A helping of each, please. They are a nice balance. Joy punctuates the peace. How sublime…