There isn’t much new under the sun for senior citizens.

We’ve seen fads come and go, especially at the holiday times: paper chains made from construction paper, angels fluttering and snowmen of all kinds. It’s the day after Thanksgiving and some of us are getting a head start on shopping. Lots of tempting displays, and time for the overwhelming appearance of holiday candy and decorations.

Just when I’d sort of gotten used to those darned marshmallow Peeps presenting themselves as reindeer, instead of only showing their faces at Easter as chickens, another holiday product has shoved them aside. Cinnamon-scented pine cones are apparently in demand, but I can’t imagine why that wonderful aroma of pine needs to be covered up.

I wonder who dreams up these moneymakers. Since my working days were spent in marketing, I can just imagine how it happens. Client representatives at advertising agencies gather around a glossy, oval-shaped conference table and make a half-hour of small talk while sipping their flavored, decaf, brand-name coffee (they each have a different flavor) imagining that they are avoiding any contamination to their body by that bad drug, caffeine.

Someone kicks off the strategy session by explaining that a client, Pine Cone Co., wants to attract a new audience and they’ve budgeted X amount to cover the marketing of a new product. The marketing mavens, sipping away, toss out ideas and finally, the person with cinnamon-flavored coffee speaks. Perhaps people are tired of that boring old pine scent. How about cinnamon? The cones could be bagged up in mesh bags and the smell of cinnamon would permeate the air. The agency could design some snazzy little tags reeking of Christmas (or do they call it holiday?), so immediately after the holiday is over, piles of cones could be displayed at half price. Money for everyone! Surely the younger generation will prefer cinnamon over pine. After all, they loved the marshmallow reindeer.

And so it goes in the world of marketing. Does anyone care what happens to the leftover cinnamon cones? They’ll be tossed into the box with ornaments, old Christmas cards, plastic tinsel, the tiny white lights and the paper-plate projects from junior’s third- grade class. Lurking in the back of the closet, the cinnamon smell will be a constant reminder of a moment’s foolishness during the holiday season.

There isn’t much good to be said about marshmallow Peeps, but at least they are odorless. Years ago, Peeps only came out prior to Easter, and they were bright yellow, tempting little critters. I watched a program on public television last week that showed the manufacturing of candy, including the dreaded Peeps. I don’t watch enough TV, I guess, because I was amazed at the way Peeps have morphed into skeletons, pumpkins, Santa and his reindeer. What’s next? Pink Cupid Peeps for Valentine Day? Peeps fashioned into leprechaun shapes and colored green? No longer are they limited to yellow. Peeps apparently have joined the rainbow coalition and are now in a variety of hues, none of which makes them any more attractive. I guess if you like to swallow a soft glob of marshmallow, they will tempt.

Thank goodness my parents didn’t think we needed candy as part of our regular diet. Of course we whined like kids will, but they didn’t budge. To them, eating candy put you on the road to the dentist. Once in a while, around holiday time, my mom would make taffy and let us help stretch it and cut it up into “kisses.” Sometimes she’d roll it out and spread peanut butter and bundle it up before cutting. Other times she would make peanut brittle and we’d get to whack the sheets of hard brittle and break it into pieces.

And she could make the best fudge, from scratch, no boxes of premixed. We’d each get a piece of whatever candy she made, but most of it was boxed up and given away. The idea of actually spending cash for something like Peeps was unheard of, and parents in those days weren’t swayed by whining and begging.

Life was different in the old days. We used to rake up pine cones and throw them into the woodstove, where they’d give off lots of sparks and make the kitchen smell like pine. Sometimes we’d make little toy turkeys out of the fat cones, but it never entered our minds that pine cones could be a cash crop.

There certainly have been a lot of changes in the world in my lifetime and I’ve gotten used to new ways and new products, but these things I know: I like coffee to taste like coffee, not peaches. I’m sure caffeine is good for me. No matter how you shape and color them, Peeps will always be globs of fluffy sugar. And pine cones should smell like pine trees.