The Holidazzle -- I mean the TCF Holidazzle -- is in full swing again this year, and there's nothing you or I can do to stop it. It comes on like a wave, starting weeks before the holidays.
It was balmy fall day when I happened to be making a deposit a TCF. I bumped into two women dressed as gigantic light bulbs, happily dancing and inviting me to a Holidazzle press conference. The Holidazzle management team announced the name of the new light bulb character, a blue snowman named Marv or Doodlebug or something. Overly enthusiastic executive types clapped laboriously.
As I thought, "thank goodness I don't work with them," I spotted a plate of frosted sugar cookies in the shape of blue snowmen.
There are few things I like more in this world than frosted sugar cookies. It started when I was a kid. Green frosting-outlined tree cookies, Santa cookies with a bunch of different colors, blue stars with inedible silver stars, all major characters in my Richfield childhood.
A few years ago when I didn't get married, I gained over 30 pounds as a byproduct of the comfort I found in decorated bakery items. I've since lost and gained a dozen or so of those pounds. On the day in question, the day of the Holidazzle press conference, I was on a diet. It's a four-letter word.
The snowman cookie threw me for a loop. I was unprepared for an early onslaught of Christmas Cookies. It was balmy out. I have used Weight Watchers points to plan to live off Christmas Cookies for the entire month of December and only gain a little weight. I held my ground. I did not take a snowman cookie when the giant light bulb lady offered it.
I have regretted it ever since. The next day, I ditched the diet and went to Lund's fancy bakery. They always have frosted everything. Did they have the snowman in the fall? No. The best I could do was an orange frosted leaf. Beautiful, but I had to have the snowman.
I bought dough and frosting to make the cookie myself, but it was too high quality. I needed the cheap shortening and sugar goop commercial bakers use. Next, I went to countless bakery locations -- nothing. I even started looking on the Internet, and now receive bakery porn from several sites daily. There was nothing to do but wait until every bakery churned out holiday happiness.
Finally, the day is here. Cookies are at every turn. At every party and meeting, at every good receptionist's desk. I couldn't be happier. Santas, trees, wreaths, stars, angels, and spritzes. I love them all. On Sunday, I'll make a gingerbread house the way a bachelor makes a pan of lasagna to live off of for a week.
However, my true love is still missing. I can't find the blue snowman cookies anywhere. It's dawned on me that he was a public relations stunt. A one-time deal, baked just for the press conference. An idea probably dreamed up by a loyal intern, for which his or her boss took full credit and received a 10 percent raise.
Dear, dear intern, if you are out there, please tell me where you got those cookies, so I be reunited with the one I spurned long ago. Thank you.
Julie Swenson (Julie@abbaspr.com) owns Abbas Public Relations -- and a huge sugar-cookie jones.