Shucks . . . five more months!
I was craving a lollipop the other day, so I checked what I had left. My Chupa Chups were almost gone, and I had only one of the little heart-shaped Valentine’s lollipops from Dollarama left . . .
Those happen to be my two favorite lollipops. Chupa Chups are difficult to find in Newfoundland, while the Valentine’s lollipops are available at Dollarama only around Valentine’s Day. Once these disappear from the shelves, that is usually it until the following year.
There is an interesting bit of history attached to Chupa Chups. Salvador Dalí designed the famous flower-shaped logo in 1969, including the idea of placing it prominently on top of the wrapper . . .
That connection always makes me think of Little Ashes, the strange and forgotten film about the young Salvador Dalí, his compañero, the poet Federico García Lorca, and the Spanish-born Mexican filmmaker Luis Buñuel—a sort of icky “love” triangle (or maybe quadrangle), involving people who were unquestionably great artists and also deeply troubled human beings. The film is really about talented, beautiful people behaving in ways that are anything but beautiful . . .
Robert Pattinson plays the young Dalí, and Little Ashes arrived right at the feverish height of Twilight mania, when Pattinson seemed to be everywhere. I loved all the eccentric, fashionable nonsense Pattinson as Dalí wears as a student—the odd jackets, hats, hair, and carefully manufactured weirdness. But Pattinson also catches something genuinely unpleasant in him. His Dalí can be funny and ridiculous, then suddenly cold, selfish, even faintly malevolent. And that closing scene still sends shivers down my spine.
But my immediate problem remains: five more months before the Dollarama Valentine’s lollipops return.
Stores, of course, are always several months ahead of the calendar. Right now the aisles are full of Halloween costumes . . .
While Christmas is already beginning to appear elsewhere in the store. The seasonal transition has begun before Halloween has even arrived . . .
I enjoy looking at seasonal decorations, but I rarely buy the newer ones. I have always preferred vintage decorations, particularly the ones I remember from childhood. [See → this.] Valentine’s Day is no exception.
My favorites are the old Beistle cupid cutouts, which Dollarama certainly does not carry. And of course, mine have a history attached to them, because apparently I am incapable of owning anything without eventually turning it into an archaeological object.
When I was little, my father often came home with a pasalubong—a little gift he had picked up for me while he was out. In 1979, I specifically asked him to bring home the Beistle cupid cutouts.
Instead, he brought me a much classier cartoon cupid made by Hallmark. It was a perfectly nice decoration, and probably a more expensive one. But I had been very specific. I wanted the Beistle cupids.
So I cried.
I can smile about that now, but I also understand exactly why the memory stayed with me. As a child, I was not asking for just any Valentine cupid. I had already decided which one I loved. The substitute, however attractive, was not the same thing.
Eventually I did get the Beistle cupids, and I still have them today, along with their original packaging . . .
Looking at them brings back not only the decorations themselves but also that childhood ritual of waiting for my father to come home with a pasalubong.
That is probably why I remain attached to certain ordinary things. A particular lollipop, an old cardboard cupid, even the packaging can become connected to a season, a place. Or a person. They survive because the memories attached to them survive.
For now, though, I am down to one Valentine’s lollipop . . .
Shucks!