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SLF 11/24/2012 7:48:33 AM
I was momentarily saddened to learn that Hostess Brands, Inc., (makers of Wonder Bread, Twinkies, Ding Dongs and Ho-Hos, et al were bankrupt and going out of business. “Momentarily” — because Wonder Bread was the very first sponsor of my TV weather shows back in the ‘50s. Together, Bob Mills and Wonder Bread became household names.
You want to make your own Twinkies? All you need is some Wonder Bread, a can of yellow spray paint, and a caulking gun fill of white caulk.
After short exposure, Wonder Bread was replaced by NBC Bakeries’ bread, and soon afterward they introduced Millbrook Bread, which eventually became their flagship commodity. They remained my sponsor for twenty years, hosting 10,400+ shows I performed.
I could not have been more delighted. Not only did my old man work partime for the local bakery, my maternal grandfather, a displaced Croatian Jew, was the master baker who invented and developed the process that kept ordinary white bread fresh while unwrapped and outside the breadbox for many weeks.
Grandpa Stephan Lasch came up with a concoction using formaldehyde, and he called it SLF (“Steve Lasch Formula”), adopted by the NBC Bakery and soon used and called Millbrook Bread.
Perhaps it was the similarity of our names (Mills/Millbrook) or perhaps it was unconscious nepotism, but they sponsored my Channel 8 weather shows, along with Independent (Chevron) Oil, for many, many years. Of course, they never compensated my grandfather for his invention (he had perfected the SLF idea while a baker at NBC) and my old man left under pressure from his fulltime employer.
Lou Laurent was the manager of the local bakery back then, and he insisted I do their TV shows. He even had me go through a “phony” audition when I took over after Jack Buck left for a gig with the St. Louis Cardinals. The client was part of the McCann-Ericson empire back then, and the agency persuaded Mr. Laurent and the TV station execs to go through the motions of a bona fide audition, a balm to the concerns of more senior staffers.
Why? Perhaps it was to avoid a lawsuit with Grandpa Lasch (hardly a consideration). Grandpa soon retired from the bakery dodge, and in his remaining years never mentioned my role on TV or his thoughts on the idiosyncrasies of Big Business (of course, his inability to speak and comprehend English, or my grandmother’s British lack of sophistication and general indifference, or the lawyer’s ignorance and lack of expertise in corporate peccadilloes may have had much to do with it).
In any event, I was well launched toward local TV stardom, and I milked it for all it was worth. Thanks to the weather shows and their longtime sponsorship by one major entity, I was able to leave broadcasting at an early age to pursue other interests, such as tourism and advertising that eventually led me to Georgia, retirement, and the fulfillment of my youngest daughter’s desire for an education (at UGA), marriage to a medical professional, and motherhood.
As we will be spending our favorite holiday at daughter and son-in-law’s place in Birmingham AL, I have much to be thankful for. Not the least is my most recent grandson Hutson Mills Faucette. At twenty-two months, he already possesses the odor of woodchips from splinters of well-seasoned personal oak — that is his heritage.
At 81, I am in remarkably good health, despite the Primary Lateral Sclerosis that plagues normal mobility and balance. I eat and sleep well, and suffer no disabilities from chronic or natural illnesses with which so many of my contemporaries are besieged. I take no prescription drugs and see my doctor once a year.
But more than that, I am blessed with a wife fifteen years my junior, a woman who truly cares about me and wants to ease my infirmities so that I can lead as normal a life as possible. When it comes to wearing my brace and doing all the chores I should be doing, she is a dynamo and a taskmaster. Without her, I would be foolish to attempt keeping this mortal coil a moment longer.
Of all my good graces, however, I am most appreciative of my unimpaired ability to write and think (not necessarily in that order); these are the outstanding rewards of growing old. I am delighted that I am still quite likely to write a book, a column, a newsletter, or simply an email that I enjoy re-reading as though it were written by some educated craftsman and not a scatterbrained twerp.
Next to writing, reading has become a true gift. I once thought that speaking was my greatest achievement, but I was wrong. Writing and reading outshines vocalizing by far. Anyone can open his mouth and prove himself a fool, but until he puts in down on paper so it can be read, his secret is safe. (I think Mark Twain — or some other Bigger Brain — said it better.)
Do I wish Grandpa Lasch had been appropriately compensated for his invention? Of course. We could have been rich. Filthy rich. And I might have drunk myself to death at fifty-four. Or at least done myself in with a Twinkie or two.
*I have just learned through the grapevine that Pabst Brewing and Georgia-based Nature’s Own Bread may keep the Twinkies’ dynasty alive! Stay tuned.
