Sometimes you look at a decades-old photo of yourself at the beach and are struck by the thought that you should have worn more skimpy two-pieces while you had the chance. Sometimes you watch a mystery in a movie theater and realize you just don't enjoy it as much as you would at home, where you can use the remote to go back if you missed a clue. And sometimes you go to heat up your soup in the office microwave and glance at the controls and think, "What is this country coming to?"

In my company's newly remodeled kitchenette sit two General Electric microwave ovens (because heaven knows we efficient Americans cannot be expected to wait while someone else flash-cooks his meal in less than two minutes). I was about to zap my lunch when I noticed that these models had new faster, easier cooking modes called "snack codes." This is important because there is nothing more annoying than going up to a microwave and making the effort to select the time and power level when you can cut fully two seconds off your meal prep process by pressing a pre-set code.

With great curiosity, I noted that No. 1 was "chicken nuggets," No. 2 was "frozen sandwich," No. 3 was "potato skins" and No. 4 was "chicken wings." I puzzled over No. 2 for a minute or so — trying to remember the last time I had frozen a sandwich and then microwaved it — until it occurred to me that this was a generic reference to the ubiquitous "Hot Pocket."

Next, I took out my pad and paper and meticulously copied this information down because, as a marketing employee of the major Baltimore research university whose name includes the odd plural spelling of a common American boy's first name, I also consider myself somewhat of a scientist.

Somewhat of one.

My point is, what does this new microwave control panel say about us? Where is the code for broccoli? Where is the option for quick-poached fish?

Someone must have done a study over there at GE, where they bring good things to life, and realized that we Americans are mostly interested in bringing brevity to our good lives by eating prepackaged snacks that are high in sodium, cholesterol, fat and calories.

Consider: one small chicken wing contains 5.4 grams of fat. You could eat two grilled tilapia filets and still have to find .4 grams of fat somewhere before you were even. One chicken nugget has 92 milligrams of sodium, and you'd have to eat three cups of chopped broccoli to ingest the same.

There are 465 calories in one cup of fried potato skins, and you could eat 21/2 pounds of carrot sticks before you'd reach that calorie count. What's up with that, Doc?

And the frozen "barbecue recipe chicken" sandwich I checked had three teaspoons of sugar, which doesn't seem extravagant until you realize that it's about the same amount you'd find in 30 cups of steamed edamame.

I enjoy snack foods as much as anyone, but somehow their permanence on the microwave menu was jarring, like a recent glimpse of my backside in jeans after the holidays.

I think the new microwave's controls are irrefutable cultural indicators — touchstones for an American diet that is out of control. And if you'd like a visual that perfectly illustrates the course we're on, simply microwave a marshmallow "Peep" for 15 seconds.

Janet Gilbert works in Baltimore and lives in Woodstock. Visit her at http://www.janetgilbert.net.