Dear Mr. Whip

Historical note: “Sad Bachelor’s Dear Mr. Corporation COVID Thanksgiving Extravaganza 2020!”, continued!

Dear Mr. Whip,

In the history of Hollywood, that city where Dreams are made (and Whipped into shape (see what I did there? Rimshot!)) sometime in the 80s, certain directors thought that the movies that were being made were too light, too fluffy, too…. nice. These directors -- some of whom are considered visionaries today -- started making darker, grittier movies. More “real” movies. Mr. Whip, I consider you the same sort of visionary.

In the continuum of whipped dessert toppings, you have the absolute cowards who will only use “real” heavy cream to make fluffy dairy toppings. Let us forget about them. They have no bearing on our lives.

Then you get to the real heavy lifters: Cool Whip, and all of the other frozen, non-dairy toppings. What are they made of? Who knows! Who cares! They’re delicious, but they’re missing something. A certain je ne sais quoi. An acidic bite to their dialogue. A down to earth realness. They’re great and all, but you know they’ve never gotten their hands dirty. They’re missing…. grit.

Well, Mr. Whip, I count you as a true visionary who stood up to the Cools of the world and said, no, all you non-dairy posers who have never worked a day in your life, get out. Get gone. You said, I’m gonna ship my dry whipping powder in a box! Refrigeration? Pshaw! Freezer? What do I look like, a Pfizer COVID vaccine? No, I am no wilting violet, no withering pansy. When people buy my topping, they’re gonna dump that powder in milk and beat it into a froth with their own two hands, as god intended. And if my Creamy Whipped Topping is gritty? Then so be it. Life is gritty, why should your whipped topping be any different? A slight, lactic acidity? Who told you life was sunshine and rainbows, kid. Get real. Get real.

Yes, Mr. Whip, in my mind, you are the Quentin Tarantino of dessert toppings, and God bless you for that.

Sincerely,

Alex Parise

[Originally published 11/26/2020]