Dan Morris: Bittersweet truth of shrinking treats

My beard, for example – unkempt and dishevelled following a lack of maintenance during a fortnight of self-isolation – is one of those things that, presently, time has not been kind to.

Indeed, rather than encapsulating the rugged and windswept handsomeness of Tom Hanks à la ‘Cast Away’, I am more beginning to resemble an unfortunate hybrid of Roald Dahl’s Mr Twit and a ‘pound shop’ Rhys Ifans, à la ‘Notting Hill’.

My face furniture is not the only thing of course to have failed to stand the test of time, and looking around it is sadly far too easy to spot things that seemed far better in ‘the good ole’ days’.

A few obvious examples come to mind, but none more so perhaps than my biggest bugbear – confectionery.

Sometimes nothing is sweeter than sweets themselves. Yet I can’t help but feel that over the last 20 years or so there has been some sort of international conspiracy involving a mad scientist doomsday device designed to slowly and subtly shrink our sugary treats into oblivion.

The humble Cadbury’s Curly Wurly, for example, (other formerly-wonderful chocolate bars are of course available) appears to me to have taken quite the hit in this regard. I seem to remember as a lad that standing on end they were taller than me – a true titan of a snack that would get me through several sittings and bring me at least a combined 10 hours of delight.

Sad to say that through my eyes, today’s offering looks as though it would only be useful as a toothpick with which to remove the remains of a Curly Wurly Classic from around my premolars.

The strong and staple Mars Bar, too, appears to me to have fallen victim to the shrink ray since the 90s, along with several other key players from the championship of chocolatey choice. And perhaps most heartbreakingly of all, the mighty Burton’s Wagon Wheel – a lunchbox favourite for generations, that four of which at one time could have supported an actual wagon – now looks to me as though it would only be fit to serve as the spare in the boot of a Corgi Gran Torino.

Don’t get me wrong, I get it. I understand how economics works, and aside from this it is for the best that, in this health-conscious age, children are not as encouraged to over-indulge in sugary treats by them being of a larger size.

I am also aware that my 32-year-old hands are significantly larger than those of my 12-year-old self, and this is bound to have played some part in the difference in my perception.

But I just miss them. I miss the joy and heightened anticipation of being about to tuck in to what seemed to me to be a much more gloriously-proportioned confectionery offering, and so much more of a prize to behold. And compensating by chowing down solo on a duty-free Toblerone just leaves me feeling guilty as a man. For a little bit, anyway.

But still, perhaps some things are better left to being beautiful memories. My waistline has undoubtedly found this beneficial.

A few years ago, me and an old chum of mine decided to dig out one of our childhood games consoles and revisit the hit titles of our youth. We were both excited. As incredible as the online-driven world and slick graphics of modern gaming can be, they don’t make ’em like they used to.

However, there is a reason for that.

The bitter heartbreak at realising some of our childhood favourites had failed to weather well in the two decades since their release was too much to bear, and before sullying the memory of too many sacrosanct titles, we quickly packed said console away and consigned it forever to a better place. God rest its soul.

Still, it’s far from being all bad. Plenty of the pleasures of a past life stand tall and weather strong.

Needless to say the past couple of weeks have given many of us the motivation to reacquaint with a few old film and TV favourites. Though these are waters in which I have stepped carefully recently, I’ve been pleased to discover that many classic offerings I’ve revisited still hold their charm, and more than that, stand up technically and visually against creations of today.

It can be very easy to judge things too harshly by looking at them in the context of what they once may have been. Things change – for better and worse – and we all have to adapt accordingly.

Recently the world has been forced to adapt to something that much of it never expected to deal with in the modern age.

We have heard news reports of people flouting the rules and irresponsibly carrying on regardless. Though most people, happily, have embraced what needs to be done, recognised the best course of action, and have adapted to the circumstances in a way that makes them part of saving lives.

By acknowledging the part they can play in combatting Covid-19 by staying at home, and by proxy putting the collective health of the nation first, the majority of people in this country are adapting to turn one of the most testing chapters of our history into what may be remembered as nothing less than one of our finest hours.

And when we can all stand tall and be part of that, who the hell really cares if a chocolate bar looks smaller than it used to be?

I’m going to stop moaning, and do like Joey Tribbiani Esq. would do; buy two, and hopefully support some businesses who, right now, need it.

Keep your chins up. We’re doing well, and together we’ll beat this thing.

And speaking of chins, it’s time I braved a shave. Until next time . . .