What Cars Equate To What Elements Of Chex Mix: The Definitive Guide

I’m just a human, and I have limits. That means there’s only so much I can take before I’m going to have to do something: lash out, panic, cave, run, fling wastes, really, it could be anything. In this particular case, the unrelenting pressure has been from people and organizations like the California Prune Board demanding, often aggressively, that I publicly list and make unquestionably clear my beliefs regarding what automobiles I feel are most associated with the traditional Chex Mix component elements.

Now, I’ve had people ask me this at various parties and taillight bars/bathhouses, and Shriner meetings, and when it comes up, I usually politely but firmly refuse to answer. My admiration for motor vehicles and Chex Mix is well known and considerably documented. I don’t feel any particular need to make public the ways in my mind I may choose to associate The Crunchy Seven (that’s what members of the Chex Mix community – known as Mixens – call the discrete components that form Chex Mix, though there is some controversy there, which I’ll get into soon) with particular automobiles, as I think of these associations as deeply personal.

The problem is that so many individuals and groups (I’m looking at you, National Association of Unclaimed Property Administrators) have been pressuring me nonstop to reveal my automotive associations, and it’s getting to be too much. There are the emails, the phone calls, and lately it seems every time I go out, there’s someone who accosts me, dumps a bag of Chex Mix into my lap, and insists I tell them what car I think of when I hold, say, one of the two Chex components or one of the pretzels or something.

It’s getting exhausting. A van from the National Society for the Preservation of Covered Bridges recently blocked my car in a cul-de-sac and wouldn’t let me leave until I explained which car I associated with at least one Chex Mix element. Things are getting weird, frankly, and I’m tired of running and fighting. So, with that in mind, you win, everybody, and I will tell you my automotive/Chex Mix associations.

For the elements themselves, I personally subscribe to the doctrine of The Crunchy Seven, not The Savory Six, as seen here:

The Crunchy Seven also includes the Bagel Chip along with the Rye Chip:

If you’re a purist who feels the Bagel Chip is a debased interloper (yes, I’ve read your stupid websites and pamphlets), then you can stop reading now, because we have nothing further to discuss.

For those of you more civil and open-minded, I dutifully submit to you the following chart: these are the cars I associate with each Chex Mix component. There is an underlying logic here, and there are definite reasons why I have made the choices I have made. What I will not do is explain myself; as I have stated, I consider that an invasion of my psyche, but at the same time, perhaps paradoxically, I encourage you to try and understand the underlying logic behind each choice.

Here, feel free to scrutinize:

I think most of you will accept that these choices are the Right Ones, and, ideally, should be codified into law by a suitable governmental agency, like the National Bureau of Standards. Until that happens officially, I am willing to hear out your arguments of cars that you would choose differently. While my confidence is such that I will likely consider you to be wrong, possibly even laughably so, I respect this community enough that I will not dismiss other ideas out of hand.

Perhaps you can convince me that your choices are superior. I welcome the debate.

Until then, I truly hope this chart satisfies all those people who have been harassing me about this for so long; you win. Here’s your Chex Mix-to-car chart. Take your victory, and finally grant my family and myself some much-needed peace.

Top graphic images: General Mills; Hagerty