Middle age makes people do things they swore they’d never do, like boring the pants off their kids by waxing nostalgic about all the stuff that used to be different. I never thought I’d do that, but now that I do, I’d like to think that my nostalgia is much more interesting than the stuff my Dad went on about.

Back in the 1970’s, there was only the liquid variety which I kept in the top drawer of my desk at work, next to my tissues, so I could discreetly wipe the chalky residue off my mouth after covertly chugging an ever-escalating quantity. I was in my 20’s then, a new manager with AT & T in Chicago and one of the busiest, most important people you would ever want to meet. I had a closet full of cheap suits and matching 3-inch heels, and I would clatter up Rush Street every morning in search of a cab, and then chain smoke my way to the office while reading The Wall Street Journal, most of which I didn’t understand.

Sometimes I didn’t leave the office until eight or nine o’clock, after which there’d be another smoky cab ride back to one of my favorite near-north bars where I drank my dinner with other yuppie scum while discussing the problems of our days in hyperbolic terms. I believe there were a number of people who thought that I was single-handedly responsible for dial tone in the western world.

The 80’s ushered in the chewable tablet form of Maalox. They still turned your mouth and tongue white, but at least they wouldn’t spill all over the inside of a diaper bag, and you could pop them discreetly during business meetings and nursery school co-op, with no one the wiser. These were the days when I felt like a hypocrite most of the time, trying to straddle the fence between the mommy camp and the working woman camp. It’s not that I was alone on the fence. It’s just that we fence women had no time to meet for coffee and commiserate like the other mommies, so we just thought we were nuts most of the time.

Sometime during the 90’s, Maalox rolled out a product which truly was an antacid and a desert topping. It came in an aerosol can called "Maalox Whip." The consistency was more like shaving cream than whipped cream in that it stood up on a spoon in a neat little mound.

I was in my 40’s then, had jumped the fence and landed on the mommy side, but with a huge asterisk. Not satisfied with the most important and exhausting job in the world as my only job title, I filled my "spare time" with night classes, The League of Women Voters, and a column for my local newspaper. Later, I owned a bookstore for a few years, and then ran a print and Web publication about books out of my kitchen.

My shrink kept suggesting that my identity and self-worth were tied to my jobs and activities, like that was a bad thing. I was further frustrated because, after giving up drinking and smoking, my health was declining. I was now popping two prescription ulcer medications each day in addition to shooting whipped Maalox directly into my mouth. I enjoyed that. It reminded me of hiding behind the fridge door with a can of Reddy Whip when I was a kid.

Much to my dismay, the whipped variety of Maalox was not around for long. Probably too many people, like myself, had quickly dispensed with the spoon and were over-dosing themselves. The new millennium brought us "Quick Dissolve" Maalox tablets, which seem to melt faster and not get stuck in your teeth like their predecessor.

Now that I’m in my 50’s, my goals are simpler. I’m trying to learn to meditate without hyperventilating. I’ve taken up yoga and Buddhism, and turned into an earnest cliché. My last trip to the supermarket turned up a new, fun and tasty variety of Maalox - called Maalox soft chews, available in chocolate and cherry flavors. They’re the consistency of a Starburst Candy and come individually wrapped in foil. I must tell you that I loved the chocolate, although they were difficult for me to chew due to my TMJ, which is basically a terribly sore jaw which comes from clenching and grinding your teeth too much.

And finally, a word of advice to the makers of Maalox, if you’re listening: This new chewy candy thing is great, but it’s not going to fly with dentures. I hope you’ve got something still tasty but softer in the works for me when I hit my 60's.