Downsizing: Not What You Think

When I was a little girl growing up in Brooklyn, my father had a couple of Carvel Stores.  He owned one and was a partner in another.  Both stores were in Queens and I remember my mother driving to “our” store at what seemed midnight to help my father clean.  We didn’t do it often, but as an adult I understand why she did.  It was to keep my father in good spirits.  While a business man, standing behind a counter was not at all what my father wanted for himself or his life.  His love was computers.  Back in those days it was “main frame” computers and he was better suited to working for IBM or W.R. Grace in Manhattan. The stores were his personal sacrifice, a means of providing “more” for his family and income in the future.  He was always glad to see us (rather he was glad to see my mother) and I remember through a sleepy haze them cleaning for a while then turning on the radio to dance.  In truth the store was always clean, chrome and stainless shining like the Chrysler Building.  It was really about "the dance,” cheek-to-cheek to a future so bright, first steps taken.


As a kid who literally had ice cream on tap, I didn’t like it.  At all!  On the other hand, I was quite popular in school being able to “drop” an ice cream party on the asking.  What I didn’t realize because my father never said, is he was fortunate enough to leave to the store (having hired a manager) and work in Manhattan.  An ice cream party meant leaving Manhattan, going to Queens, stopping in Brooklyn and then returning to Manhattan.  I had no idea…until my mother told me.  He always showed up, delivering “Flying Saucers” personally to a cheering classroom.  I ate none.


Fast forward 20 to 25 years and I was bitten by the bug!  Ice cream is a “big” deal at my house and for it we have a rule.  With cars, clothing, jewelry, computers (and everything else in the house) it’s share and share alike.  When it comes to ice cream all bets are off.  You choose your own, and you eat YOUR own!  We don’t share.  Don’t like what you got? Uh…well…um…yeah…hmm… I don’t know what to tell ya, but you don’t want to go “there” with the rest of us!


Over the past few years I started noticing my “own” half gallon was gone in a day and a half.  The same used to take two days from grocery store bag to recycle bin.  Since I couldn’t figure out what was going on, I asked my daughter if…  She said she was thinking the same thing!  After some label reading I saw my half gallon was no longer a half gallon.  It’s now only 48 ounces instead of 64.  I want my pint back!


Products are being downsized all the time right under our noses,  Manufacturers are doing a great job of masking smaller package sizes by making narrower bags and bottles, creating non-fillable spaces in jars and shorter (squattier) containers.  We’re getting less – while paying as much or more.


Yes, yes I get it, it’s about profit! 


But there are some things you don’t mess with: those that will kill you and ICE CREAM! 




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