Do you, an astute observer of government, ever find yourself asking such questions as, “Did the people in charge carefully weigh all the options before arriving at that very significant decision?”
If you are anything like me, you may even have expressed this very sentiment by using a more succinct phrase, such as “Have they completely lost their marbles?” or, “What were they smoking?”
These days, the answer appears to be Cheerios.
The humble Cheerio, that circular nugget of whole-grain goodness and long-time friend of milk, has been declared a drug by the branch of the U.S. federal government responsible for food safety and possibly even the stickers on my Gala apples.
(It’s important to note that fruit-sticker frustration – a clinically diagnosed affliction characterized by feelings of rage and anxiety – is also a leading factor in the decision to use mind-altering substances. Source: Angry apple-eater who just realized there is a bar-code pasted to his tongue.)
The rest of us know Cheerios as a yummy cereal that has the ability to invigorate lethargic cartoon stick figures who, against the advice of their mothers, unwisely started the school day on an empty stomach.
According to the feds, however, the wholesome breakfast staple in the big yellow box is no longer just a quick and convenient solution to morning hunger pangs, but something to be classified and labeled, like painkillers or cold medicine.
At this moment, you may be turning to the person nearest you and saying, ‘There goes Frank again, making up crazy stuff that can’t possibly be true. What is he smoking – Cheerios?”
(No, thank you. I prefer to get high on life. Also, a glass of red wine with dinner is relaxing.)
According to reputable news organizations that almost always never make anything up, the folks at the U.S. Food and Drug Administration were recently upset to learn that cereal maker General Mills was claiming – in highly visible print on that big yellow box – that its beloved Os lower cholesterol.
The government cleverly argued that only drugs can do that, and therefore the twee Cheerio, which has brought smiles to the faces of millions of clean-cut youth for eons, must be a drug.
Unless the company changes the wording on the box, at which point the Cheerio will revert to its previous status as a delicious start to the day.
Also, the government will not be forced to clear grocery store shelves of those bright yellow boxes in an early morning raid.
By now you are saying, thank heavens there are people like the U.S. Food and Drug Administration looking out for the well being of breakfast eaters everywhere.
My only hope is that they don’t let up in their pursuit of the truth.
Inside sources tell me the Lucky Charms leprechaun is next on the FDA’s hit list, as investigators can find no evidence to support the claim that his cereal is, indeed, “magically delicious.”


