Once upon a time, in a quaint little neighborhood in Culver City, nestled between bungalows that once belonged to MGM employees and the back-lot that in the 1930s served as the location for the burning of Atlanta in "Gone with the Wind," there was a convenience store that time forgot. Local rumor has it that the store, owned by the same family for more than forty years, has been there since the Dawn of Time. I've been visiting the store ever since my office moved nearby with one purpose in mind: To keep a close eye on the Hostess Fruit Pies. "Look," I said to my colleague shortly after first noticing them last week, "Their expiration date is next week ... they're about to expire on August 9. Do you know how long a Hostess Fruit Pie has to sit on a shelf before it expires?!? Eons must pass!" One look at the ingredients -- a delicate blend of beef fat, partially hydrogenated animal shortening, apples, artificial flavor and sodium propionate -- was enough to convince me that these pies could survive a nuclear holocaust. And so, each day I've been making a pilgrimage to the Convenience Store just to see if the pies are still there. What will I say to the proprietor when they expire? Probably nothing. It looks like he's passed his Freshness Date, too ...!