Fiber One: A Fight for 2011 Graduation

I’d like to present a guest writer for today’s YoYo-Dyne Blog. A fearless fighter for right and the health of the graduating class of 2011.

The writer is a certified gifted student, not yet 18 years old and may bear some relationship to the CEO of YoYo-Dyne Propulsion. Perhaps even half of the DNA.
Let us present our Senior of the Year 2011… Catherine Edelstein.

Catherine Edelstein

Catherine L. Edelstein: guest writer


Many of you know about my desperate battle with fiber one during the last few months. For those who don’t, here’s how it goes:

So everyone has seen the Fiber One commercials. It’s usually with a man or women remarking how whatever they’re eating couldn’t POSSIBLY have fiber in it because it doesn’t taste like cardboard

Pictured: NOT Cardboard

If you haven’t seen these commercials, here’s one

So alright, it’s not the BEST commercial ever. There’s no scantily clad women in the background dancing to a rap song about fiber (though if there were it would probably sell better).

There is, however, Ajay Mehta.

“Who is Ajay Mehta?” you might be asking yourself.

Ajay Mehta is the bad ass Indian dude in those ads who tells the confused costumers how damn awesome Fiber One is.

Pictured: Bad Ass


The best thing about the man is his voice. Seriously, I’d believe anything he says. Would I jump off a bridge just because all my friends did? Hell no. Would I jump off a bridge if Ajay Mehta said I should?

Do you really need to ask?

OK, now that we’ve sorted out who Ajay Mehta is and why he’s so awesome, here’s what I’ve been doing periodically through the last few months: Trying to get Ajay Mehta to speak at my high school graduation about the importance of fiber in one’s diet.

This has proven to be difficult.

I started by finding the e-mail of his agent. I continued to e-mail them about sending Ajay Mehta to Hemet to do a fiber-themed speech for my graduation. After only my seventh e-mail, I was informed (rather rudely) that Ajay Mehta does not own the Fiber One character, General Mills does.

This was problematic. I realized there that I didn’t want Ajay Mehta at my school, I wanted Mr. Fiber One. Otherwise I’m just getting some Indian dude who failed in the entertainment industry.

NOT a Bad Ass

What followed this epiphany was a series of emails between me and General Mills. It started with a proposal. When you send in proposals to the company, you basically sum up your intentions in 250 words or less, and if they like the general idea, they allow you to elaborate.

Here, word for word, is what I originally sent:

“Title: Mr. Fiber One:

Together, I believe Hemet High School and General Mills, specifically Fiber One, can work together to get incredible results. We both have ways to help each other. As far as Fiber One goes, children are very uninterested in the importance of fiber in their diet. I, along with many other seniors at Hemet High School, believe that if you were to send Ajay Mehta (Mr. Fiber One) to speak to us about the wonders of fiber, this great tragedy can come to an end. Besides that, the media attention of this can bring wanted attention to your company.”

OK, nothing spectacular. I just wanted to give them a little taste and I’d go into mid blowing details when they e-mailed me back. a few weeks later, I received this e-mail:

“Dear Cate Edelstein:

Thank you for submitting your proposal or request to General Mills.  We will review your proposal against our sponsorship and marketing objectives and will respond within the next few weeks.

At General Mills it is our mission to innovate to make people’s lives healthier, easier, and richer today than yesterday, and we count on new ideas to meet the rapidly changing needs of our consumers. Thank you for your interest in working with General Mills, and we look forward to reviewing your proposal.”

Did you read that? They were look forward to reading my proposal! I was just happy that they were planning to read it. Obviously this brightened my mood. I mean, this was some serious shit, so I was glad they were paying attention.

A few weeks went by before I received there response, and I have to admit, I was a little surprised:

“Dear Cate Edelstein:

Thank you for your submission of September 1, 2010, giving General Mills the opportunity to review your proposal or request.

After careful consideration of the information provided, we’d like to inform you that we will be declining your proposal, as it does not meet our business needs at this time.”

I’m sorry. What? WHAT? My plan of a fiber based unity does “not meet your business needs at this time.”?


OK, I’m still a little bitter. But whatever. After a bit of manly crying and a few Hugh Grant movies, I realized that I couldn’t give up on my dreams. I tried to figure out what was wrong with my first proposal, and I realized it MIGHT be the title.
I mean, come on, Mr. Fiber One? How unoriginal is that?

Yeah, that’s never been done before

Also, I failed to compliment their product. I made sure to fix both those problems in my next proposal:

“Title: Orange Jump Rope of Awesome:

I am sending this on behalf of myself, my peers, and my high school. For years I have shown enjoyment regarding your Fiber One commercials. They bring me amusement and an intense craving for all things fiber related. It is now my sole mission in life to get Ajay Mehta to speak at my high school graduation as the Fiber One guy. I think this is important for many reason. For one, teenagers today do not seem to care enough after fiber. By sending Mr. Mehta, this injustice can be righted. Another reason is that Mr. Mehta is an amazing speaker. I hear his voice and I feel better inside. Young adults preparing to enter the real world may be nervous. Mr. Mehta can help solve this problem. Maybe a few fiber bars may help as well. And most important, from your perspective anyway, is the publicity that will come from it. My high school will remember this graduation for years. I implore you to consider my small, yet diligent, request. With hope and dedication, Cate Edelstein”

OK, first of all, just check the title. What the hell is that about, right? I mean, when you read that you can’t help what wonder what this so called Orange Jump Rope of Awesome is.

Not Even Close

You HAVE to continue reading. Then I went on to talk about just how great fiber one is, with only a HINT of sarcasm. I immediately received another email telling me that my proposal was being considered. I felt a little less ecstatic by this one, as I started to suspect may might send out the things to everyone…

Regardless, I was confident this time, up until THIS happened:

“Dear Cate Edelstein:

Thank you for your submission of September 1, 2010, giving General Mills the opportunity to review your proposal or request.

After careful consideration of the information provided, we’d like to inform you that we will be declining your proposal, as it does not meet our business needs at this time.”

Yeah, I admit it. It hurt.

The man’s only made so many movies

At the bottom of these emails is a small disclaimer, telling me not to email back as it will not be read.

Like i’ve ever let disclaimers stop me before.

email one:

“… are you sure? because, i mean, if you considered it a bit more closely, i’m sure you’d realize just how brilliant this specific proposal is…”


email two:

“seriously? are you fucking serious? This is a good idea! it helps everyone! EVERYONE!”

email three:

“OK, I’ll help pay for airfare or whatever. I’ll fund raise for god’s sake. Just answer meeee”

Finally, a response:

“Please do not continue replying to the address. This is an unmonitored account”

email four:

“You know what? You’re products suck. And they DO taste like cardboard. Chocolate my ass….”


“Do not contact this company further”

So that was pretty much that. I, an innocent victim of hope, was told to fuck off by General Mills.

For a while, I did. But every so often, someone asks “So how’s that thing with Fiber One going?”

How can I look at all two of these people and tell them I failed? That I let General Mills push me into the ground?

Finally, I rose up from the ashes like a phoenix:

Pictured: Me (totally not from Harry Potter)


Yesterday, I sent in this FINAL plea:

“Title: Time is Running Out:

Dear Sir and/or Madame: I am, for lack of a better phrase, mightily pissed off. I had a mission, a mission that I intended to see through until the end. I wanted, nay, NEEDED Ajay Mehta to come speak at my high school graduation. There has been talks of petitions and fundraising to make this happen, but you have repeatedly and cruelly shut me down. So I ask, with all my remaining dignity, PLEASE consider sending the man to speak about the importance of fiber in our diet. Fiber leads to a longer life. Your company may save hundreds, possibly thousands, if you would ever so kindly send Mr. Fiber One to our school.”

Now, there’s a chance that I may be told once more that my proposal does not fit their needs, but it’s worth it. I will see this through to the end, because I am brave, I am determined, and I have nothing better to do.


I’d like to thank Miss Edelstein for her continued and concerted efforts to fight for her right.
Not to party.
But for Fiber.

Good luck Catherine. Wonderful work. If only your step-father hadn’t taken me to the bank in the divorce you’d have a Corvette coming your way this graduation.
Enjoy the Parker Pen Set and your old Schwinn that has been kept in storage for 12 years.