Today here in Southern California, we are having he storm of the year and it has been pouring down much of the morning. Luckily for us, we here in San Diego are not getting the worst of it…the folks in the L.A. area are once again getting the brunt of the deluge. I’m sure we will be hearing about mudslides and such based on the large amount of wildfire-scarred hillside land that is now exposed to the erosion elements that come with lots of rain over a short period of time. The immediate issue before us is what to do today. Kim can always watch another Hallmark movie or two and I can write an extra story or two, trying to stockpile a few for our travels that start next week. We can also both start the process of packing for what will be a two week trip spent in more or less equal parts in London, Edinburgh, Prague and then New York City. This will be Kim’s fabled Christmas Market trip and I have already set aside all of my newly smaller pants (down a size from the weight loss) and the best array of autumnal and holiday shirts I can find in my not-inconsequential trove of folded and packaged tailored shirts. I am taking all the colder weather flannels and warm-colored things (including a few seasonal plaids) I can muster. I’m awaiting the arrival of a new (smaller) Barbour-like coat to make me feel all country-British as we trek north through the Midlands, the North Country past Hadrian’s Wall and then back down through the Lakes District. I will take the black fedora I bought in Passau a few years ago when we sailed up the Danube and that will add to the country squire look I’m going for by the time we get to Prague and wander around the Old Country (my mother’s family was Czechoslovakian). I’m not sure how all of that will play in New York City, but usually anything goes in that town, so what for the hell, as they say over in Bohemia.
That Danube trip ended in the German town of Nuremberg, made famous mostly by the Nuremberg Trials that were a series of military tribunals held after World War II to prosecute prominent leaders of Nazi Germany for war crimes and crimes against humanity. Nuremberg was also an extremely important symbolic and ceremonial center for the Nazi regime, though not the administrative capital, which was Berlin. Nuremberg was significant to the Nazis because it hosted the massive annual Nazi Party rallies (Reichsparteitage) from 1933-1938. These were enormous propaganda spectacles with hundreds of thousands of participants, featuring torch-lit parades, military displays, and Hitler’s speeches. The 1934 rally was immortalized in Leni Riefenstahl’s propaganda film “Triumph of the Will.” We went to that infamous set of courtrooms and that equally infamous zeppelin field which acted as the rally grounds. I stood on that Zeppelin Tribune grandstand where Hitler stood and tried to imagine what could possess such madness. So, today, Kim and I have decided (or should I say, Kim has agreed to accede to my wishes) to go to see the new movie called Nuremberg. The focus will be on the trial of Hermann Göring, played by Russell Crowe (of Gladiator, Noah and A Beautiful Mind fame). I am fascinated by that time in history and among those who cannot get enough of it…maybe because it dominated my battle-fascinated WWII thoughts as a child or maybe because it haunts my Trump-dynastic fears as an older adult. But that is not the triumph of will that most has my attention today.
Today I cannot get my mind off popcorn. You see, our normal theater-going program has been to share a large buttered popcorn (I made sure it was heavily buttered and salted), a large diet soda and a bag of Reece’s Pieces. That is not going to work for my new program, but I do love popcorn. I will need an updated triumph of will for this one. Popcorn has a surprisingly ancient and fascinating history. There is archaeological evidence that Popcorn is one of the oldest forms of corn (maize). Archaeologists have found popcorn remnants in Peru dating back about 6,700 years, and in Mexico’s Bat Cave dating to around 5,600 years ago. These are among the oldest preserved corn cobs ever discovered. Native peoples throughout the Americas grew and popped corn long before European contact. Different tribes had various methods – some popped kernels directly in fire, others used heated sand or clay pots. Not all corn pops. Popcorn is a specific variety (Zea mays everta) with a hard, moisture-sealed hull that allows pressure to build inside when heated until it explosively “pops.” The stuff was so ubiquitous that it served not only as a food and snack source, but also for ceremonial purposes, decoration, a trade item, and even for weather prediction…Aztec and other groups used popcorn in divination ceremonies.
The Spanish conquistadors observed Aztecs using popcorn in ceremonies and as decoration in the early 16th century and Hernán Cortés reported seeing popcorn used in Aztec headdresses and religious rituals. English colonists learned about popcorn from Native Americans. There’s even a popular story that Native Americans brought popcorn to the first Thanksgiving in 1621 (not easily verified). By the 1700s, American colonists ate popcorn with milk and sugar as a breakfast cereal – possibly the first breakfast cereal in America. By the 1840s, popcorn was sold on the East Coast as a street snack. The invention of mobile popcorn carts in the 1880s could roast peanuts and pop corn, creating an irresistible aroma. During the Victorian era, popcorn was an inexpensive treat accessible to everyone, unlike many confections. When movie theaters first emerged in the early 1900s, theater owners actually resisted popcorn. They wanted to emulate legitimate theaters and opera houses, which they saw as refined venues where eating wasn’t appropriate. The noise and mess of popcorn didn’t fit that image. But during the Great Depression, popcorn’s low cost (5-10 cents per bag) made it one of the few treats people could afford, so street vendors set up outside theaters. Some theater operators realized they could profit from popcorn and began allowing vendors inside or installing their own machines. Theaters that sold popcorn survived the Depression better than those that didn’t. By WWII, popcorn and movies were inseparable. Sugar rationing during the war limited candy production, making popcorn even more important. Americans were eating about three times more popcorn than before the war. When TV became popular in the 1950s, movie theater attendance dropped, but popcorn stayed popular as a home snack. In 1981, General Mills introduced the first microwave popcorn. This transformed home popcorn consumption. Americans consume about 15 billion quarts of popped popcorn annually – roughly 45 quarts per person. Popcorn has become crucial to movie theater profits, with markup sometimes reaching 1,000-1,300%. Many theaters make more from concessions than ticket sales. Popcorn has been marketed as a healthy whole-grain snack, though this depends heavily on preparation method. Popcorn can pop up to 3 feet in the air and the “pop” sound comes from the hull rupturing, not the kernel hitting the pan. In terms of shelf-life, well…the oldest popcorn ever found could still pop after thousands of years. The story of popcorn is really the story of how an ancient indigenous food became an American cultural icon, largely through a combination of affordability, convenience, and clever marketing tied to entertainment. Its journey from sacred Aztec ceremonies to movie theater profits is quite remarkable.
So, today I will bootleg some flavored pistachio nuts into the theater and share a small unbuttered, but heavily salted, popcorn with Kim. I could tell you that popcorn has a high volume for relatively few calories, that it can satisfy the urge to snack or munch on worse things, that it’s fiber content provides some satiety or that its whole grain nature provides sustained energy, but that would all be bullshit. I’m going to the movies and I’ve gotta have some popcorn. Now THAT’s a triumph of will. End of story.