100 Words: An Ode to the Twinkie

Twinkies taste like a summer afternoon, in 1982, on the back porch of a home in suburban America, where all the neighborhood kids are running through the sprinklers, and climbing the trees, skin burning in the heat of the day, or lying on their backs, staring into the blue expanse, identifying the puffy white clouds as sheep and Volkswagons and dragons, and planning the next sleepover, and all the adventures they'll have, that they won't tell their parents about for years, embracing the day, not worrying about tomorrow -- that's an adventure for the future -- and dreaming big, and loving life.