“They” call Wheaties the “Breakfast of Champions.”

Apparently, I am not a champion, at least based on what I do in the morning. My breakfast, if indeed I have breakfast, consists of black coffee and a sugar-crusted muffin. Given the way I subsequently perform during the day, I am comfortable calling this meal what it is--the Breakfast of the Mediocre.

If I’m hungover, which happens un-rarely, and I have breakfast, I'll I eat a greasy egg and bacon sandwich, two tablespoons of bile and a dash of self-loathing. The title of this sorry collection is obvious--the Breakfast of Alcoholics.

I don’t think it’s the Wheaties that makes them "Champions." I think it’s the fact that they eat breakfast at all. Only Champions (capital "C" intended) are up early enough training or making the world a better place for kids with cancer or whatever it is they do to eat breakfast. The rest of us are in bed, awake, dreaming of how we’ll burn down our office and then kill ourselves before the police come.

So Kellogg's should save money on printing--leave out the “Of Champions” part. Just call it “Wheaties--Breakfast.” That gets the message across, like a code: “Psst. For all of you who eat breakfast out there, you know who you are, here’s another option for breakfast-- Wheaties.”

My one criticism of “Wheaties” is that the name is not very creative. They just took a well-known grain and added “ies” on the end of it. But I guess it's not just Wheaties -- all wheat cereals seem to be afraid to piss wheat off, leave it out of the cereal's name. “Shredded wheat?” Why does the method of cutting the grain need to be in the name? Is there someone walking down the cereal aisle: “I need a wheat cereal, but it must have been cut in a very aggressive fashion. Torn wheat will not be enough. Sliced? Maybe if I was buying cheese. Aaah. . . shredded. That will do.”

The one wheat cereal that doesn’t seem to fit with the other wheat cereals is “Frosted mini-wheats”. “Wheat” is not the focus of this name. “Frosted” is. Let’s be honest--this is wheat with FROSTING on it. That’s what FROSTED means. FROSTING. Frosting is good. I will not deny that. But it is not breakfast. It is for birthdays, almost exclusively. If you are eating frosting in the morning, you are an idiot, because there is no possible way your day will ever get any better than the moment that sweet deliciousness touches your tongue.

Rice must be a different kind of grain than wheat, not as quick to demand that the focus be on ITS name in the cereal’s title. Proof? Rice Krispies. The guys who made that one up added “ies” to the end of a word AFTER the grain. Can you imagine the courage it took? And it’s on the end of a word they made up, too!!! Krisp, with a “k”!! God, the ingenuity!!

Actually, I don’t eat Wheaties. Or any cereal for that matter. I don’t eat food that comes in a box. I’ll eat food that comes in a plastic tub. Or a tin can. Or out of the ground or off a tree. A box? Those are for moving, packing computers in and, ultimately, for housing our rotting corpses after we die.

Do you see where Wheaties actually leads us? Death. Breakfast of Champions, huh? (sung to the tune of the line "Ancient Chinese secret, huh?" from the 1970's Calgon detergent commercial.)