Straight from the Gut [archives]

The Cereal Generation
By R. Lance Martin
Published on Friday, November 19, 2004

Courtesy of Kellogg's

Though experts still consider butterscotch the comfort food of choice on America's college campuses, a cover article in Sunday's New York Times reveals that young adults now account for a "disproportionately large share of the breakfast cereal market." Research conducted here at Dartmouth appears to confirm this finding.

Recent polls indicate that stressed Dartmouth upperclassmen, sporting semi-permanent winces (as if victims of botched Botox treatments), reach for Fruit Loops in times of need and statisticians correlate the recent on-campus spike in Cinnamon Toast Crunch sales with heightened Terror Alert levels.

"Cinnamon Toast Crunch and Fox News are all I need to feel better [about the steady boil in Iraq]," noted Andrew Caspary '06.

Though cereal may provide comfort in times of war and neo-conservatism, aggressive marketing campaigns during the late 1980s may also explain its surge in popularity among members of our generation.

"Honeycomb's big -- yeah yeah yeah. It's not small -- no no no," exclaimed Alexis C. Jolly '05, recalling the jingle that elevated Honeycomb cereal to God-like status back in 1988.

"The Trix rabbit played a formative role my childhood development," yelled Charles Baron '05 as he stared longingly into a bowl of pink-tinted milk with only a few remaining specks of fruity cereal.

Unconvinced by characters used to market cereals to the pre-school set, Isaac Kardon '05 said he always "detested the Leprechaun's affected smile," but enjoyed "picking out the marshmallows" from Lucky Charms.

Though some associate cereal with childhood memories, others associate cereal with overprotective parents: "My parents always wanted me to be wholesome like Quaker oatmeal," said Dan Correa '05, laughing with a mixture of superiority and sadness.

While it's nostalgic significance may be disputed, overwhelming evidence indicates cereal's popularity when mind-altering substances forcibly distort the senses, making preparation of more complex dishes (such as spaghetti) impossible.

"Even when I'm repeating sounds over and over again, I can recognize objects such as bowls, spoons, milk and cereal boxes," noted John Helmstadter '05, who added that he was just kidding about his ability to recognize spoons.

True -- cereal is comforting, well-marketed and convenient -- but television's influence on our generation may also explain its popularity. Because MTV introduced so many pop-culture archetypes over the course of the late 1990s, many members of our generation still experience considerable confusion with regard to self-image.

"I don't know who I am," said Neel Shah '05, "but I can mix my cereal to send different yet simultaneous signals about my multiple identities."

Conscious of his fiber intake and his image, Shah covers his daily bowl of Raisin Bran with a thin layer of Frosted Flakes so as to imply "carefree, hipster" while masking "intelligent, sensitive."

Seated nearby, Bobby Zangrilli '05 added that Special K is "good for face-time [with the ladies]" because "eating a chick cereal in public shows that I don't care [about image]."

Too occupied with work to trouble himself with image, Dan Robinson '05 countered that cereal provides a sense of power in the wake of an intense corporate recruiting process replete with statistical case studies: "I can control the milk-to-Smart Start ratio in the morning. You can't take that away from me. No, you can't ..."

While some seek cereal for image-enhancing or control purposes, others find that it reflects their individuality -- my attempt to fool anti-Establishment icon Nick Taranto '06 by noting that Lockheed Martin recently acquired General Mills was met with a smack upside the head.

Enjoying his daily bowl of Grape Nuts, the calmer Jesse Blom '06 defended his sophisticated breakfast selection: "I will have the good life one day -- McMansions, Southampton, air-kisses -- and my sensible bowl of Grape Nuts in the morning is a step in the right direction."

Evidently this overlooked breakfast product now has a unique role in the lives of a generation that grew up surfing the web and playing with Super-Soakers during economic boom times.

"Your it man, you're my best friend," said Blake Johnson '05 as he stares affectionately at an image of Captain Crunch on a nearby cereal box during a brief respite in an intense game of online Halo. "Cap'n Horatio Crunch was born on Crunch Island, which is located in Milk Sea," added Dan Madigan '05 as he checked his BlitzMail.

Though the Cap'n likes us, perhaps a more dynamic online avatar running through three-dimensional virtual worlds occasionally wonders how our generation will be remembered.

"We didn't protest like the Baby Boomers, but we ate mad cereal in College," noted Matt Miller '05, gripping a box of Count Chocula as if holding an infant.

Marketers concerned about profits and mothers concerned about vegetable intake may try to understand why our generation eats cereal for breakfast, lunch and dinner, but the answer may be simple.

"Because I can," said the jubilant and massive Norwegian Viking Erik Richardson '05 as he poured a large bowl of granola in Collis Cafe. "And that's good enough for me."