No doubt about it. The last fruitcake was made in 1911. In fact, there may possibly be only four or five left, and they’re just being passed around like hot potatoes every holiday season.

I remember that my mother received a fruitcake from a co-worker years ago, and she rewrapped it and gave it to a neighbor the next day. I think I’ve even seen the very same one get circulated among my friends’ families. The recipient would ooh and ahh over it, say thank you, then turn around and give it to some other poor soul. It was like a chain gift from hell.

The worst thing about a fruitcake is that it really doesn’t resemble fruit or cake. It more resembles a brick with colored pebbles, and it’s usually about the perfect weight for it, too. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten a brick with colored pebbles, and I imagine that it’s hardly edible, which brings me to the reason why I’ve never even tried eating a fruitcake.

I know someone who claims to have eaten good fruitcake once. Freshly made, and made with rum. I don’t believe him, of course. Good fruitcake is a myth, like unicorns. All I’ve ever seen are those pre-packaged ones that are a hundred years old. Hardly edible. Seriously.

They make good paperweights though, and they can keep a heavy door from closing, too. And when you’re done with them, you can wrap them up and use them again next year—they make great gifts!

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