Cleveland is in the middle of the cereal belt. Shredded Wheat of Niagara Falls, New York, is to the east, and to the west is Kellogg’s of Battle Creek, Michigan.
Shredded Wheat moved from Niagara Falls years ago, but the cereal belt remains. Cleveland is the buckle.
Clevelander Marty Gitlin just published a cereal encyclopedia, The Great American Cereal Book (Abrams Images), featuring “hundreds of images of vintage cereal boxes and spokes-characters — Tony the Tiger, Snap, Crackle, Pop, and Lucky the Leprechaun.”
I had a prospective store tenant who wanted to open a cereal store. He opened down the street and went under almost immediately. He was Cereal Central, aka Cerealicious. Nobody in Cleveland wanted to eat cereal in a store. (He also had a store in Columbus near Ohio State. Apparently, OSU students were willing to eat cereal in a restaurant.)
Most people like to eat cereal alone and not talk about it. That’s my guess.
In my temple bulletin, no bar mitzvah kid’s profile reads: “Jacob is interested in cereal.” More often it’s “Morgan enjoys Sudoku and chatting online, and is a member of the recycling club.”
What is Morgan’s cereal?
Marty Gitlin and I want to know.
Musicians — at least one — eat cereal at home after late-night gigs. Musicians can’t fall asleep after gigs. Musicians’ heads are filled with fruit loops of “Simon Tov” and “Hava Nagilah.” (Klezmer musicians’ heads, that is.)
Shredded wheat choices at 1 a.m.: Barbara’s shredded wheat or Quaker shredded wheat. (Shredded wheat is not trademarkable.) I mix Barbara’s with Autumn Harvest (Kashi).
I wrote an “advice column” for the Ann Arbor Observer (February 2012). Check it out: “Hit the Road, Jack . . . A dad’s advice.”
Click here to hear what junior (Jack) is up to today: “Louder Naftule.” The latest in klezmer.