I love a good peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
Toasted, grilled or standing over a sink at 6 a.m., a peanut butter and jelly sandwich is good for what ails you, so long as your ailment is a lack of indigestion.
People, pulling from the same pool of collective knowledge that has made "Honey Boo Boo" a TV show rather than the People's Exhibit A, have endeavored to ruin the sanctity of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Examples include such ill-conceived methods as the pre-made frozen PB&J (really?), green colored , gross out jelly (kid's love "Ghostbusters," right? It's still 1984, isn't it?) and the peanut butter and jelly that comes in the same jar.
That, the dual PB&J jar, was the low point. I'm sure it started with the best of intentions. "People like peanut butter, people like jelly, why not put them in the same jar? What could go wrong?"
So, so many things could go wrong. For example: Jelly is supposed to be cold; the only kind of peanut butter you're supposed to keep cold is that weird hipster peanut butter from Whole Foods that instantly reduces my toast to mere cold, dry bread.
In a just world the single-jar PB&J (sold under the aggressively unappetizing moniker 'Goober') would have been relegated to the back shelf of some corner store that time forgot, right between unsold copies of that symphonic Metallica album and the world's last remaining box of Flutie Flakes.
But ours is a cruel world and acts of reckless combination continue unabated.
Case in point: Ketchup and Warren Buffett.
Mr. Buffett, proud owner of most things not already owned by Bill Gates and Carlos "You Have No Idea Who I Am, Do You?" Slim, recently decided it was in his best interests to purchase the Heinz corporation.
Heinz, best known for ketchup, catsup, and the steak-ruining brown sauce known as 57, may have thought it was strange that Warren Buffett, best known for hedge fund management and paying less taxes than his secretary, wanted to buy the company outright. But it seems that 5 minutes of Scrooge McDucking around in Buffett's money pit has allayed any remaining fears.
And why not? Buffett and the ketchup kids aren't the only strange bedfellows as of late. US Airways announced they are going to merge with American Airlines, making the world's largest luggage relocation service in the history of mankind.
Office Max announced plans to merge with Office Depot in what I can only assume is a vain attempt to make people forget they can buy all that stuff at Wal-Mart.
Why stop there? If merging airlines is such a great idea, why not merge other businesses? Why not merge McDonald's and Burger King? That way when I'm at the drive thru for Burger King and I order a Big Mac I won't have to drive away in shame.
Merge Coke and Pepsi? Presto! No more annoying waiters asking "is Coke ok?" everytime I order a scotch at Perkins. It's not OK, but understandable since their scotch selection is limited to "whatever the hostess has confiscated."
Need any more corporate convenience? How about merging XBox and Mountain Dew? Frankly, this one is a long time coming. The XBox already lights up with the same radioactive green color found inside every X-Treme bottle of "The Dew," and anyone who has been on Xbox Live can tell you it takes a nigh-lethal dose of caffeine for a 12 year old to be able to curse that much, that fast.
I can only assume that, since nowadays the term anti-trust seems only to apply to bad Ryan Phillippe movies, this process of capital consolidation will continue until its penultimate moment where Quaker Oats finally merges with Wilford Brimley.
I say keep it going; let these corporations keep combining until we just have Omni Consumer Products making everything we need, all available in one convenient store; what could go wrong?