Here in Michigan, snack cakes called Little Debbies are quite popular. Debbie’s cute freckled face and engaging smile on each wrapper make even a cynic like me smile until the day I see her delivery truck being towed backwards with its rear axle completely gone. A tow truck dragging Little Debbie down the pot-holed highway says a lot about the earth. We've eaten too much, there are too many of us, and we lack resources to maintain our infrastructure.
When I pull to the right of the rig at a stoplight, Little Debbie's driver, hitching a ride in the tow truck passenger seat, stares down at me with sadness on his face as thick as cream filling. As the light turns green and the tow truck surges ahead, I imagine Little Debbie, emblazoned on the side of the truck, winking seductively. In a mile or so we pass a cemetery where a crew is at work digging a hole in the still frozen Michigan soil. I’ve let the tow truck move ahead, and now Debbie’s image on the rear end of the truck maintains the smile despite road grime pasted to her face, hiding the innocence of her freckles.