About fifteen years ago, Maxwell House came out with a bottled “iced cappuccino” here in the States called Cappio. It was available in several flavors, including cinnamon, vanilla, and mocha . . . and man, I loved that stuff. Especially the mocha, which tasted as if coffee and cocoa had made sweet, sweet love to produce a God-Child who had descended to Earth for the sole purpose of making my poor tired brain happy again. World without End, Ah-men. Ahhhh-mennn.
It was moderately kinda sorta expensive, but it sure was tasty. Smooth, sweet, and a kick like a mule wearing velvet horseshoes. Hoo boy.
Then one day it went on sale. Everywhere. So I bought up a bunch, never thinking that maybe it was on sale for a Reason.
The Reason, of course, turned out to be that it had sold like crap at a stable-shovelers convention. So less than two years after introducing it, General Foods stopped making it for the U.S. market. All the stores put their stock on sale so they could clear the shelves for whatever came next.
The result: Once I knocked back my little stash, that was it. No more Soup for me.
A decade and a half later, all of the bottled iced coffee drinks on the U.S. market taste as if they’ve been filtered through a stevedore’s shorts. And they apparently sell like crazy despite being more costly than heroin. (Okay, maybe not the best heroin. But still – two bucks for a six-and-a-half ounce Doubleshot? I’d ask how those rapacious bastards sleep at night, except I’m pretty sure they don’t.)
Now all I have are my memories . . . memories of sweet, cool, chestnut-colored nectar.
[Note: I’m told that Cappio still exists in the U.K. under the “Kenco” brand. But a fat lot of good that does me here in Central Texas. Damn you, Great Britain! First you steal our Rock and Roll – and now our only decent iced coffee. I hereby curse you with gray, drizzly weather and warm, bitter beer the consistency of motor oil!]
I relate this sad tale of Cappio’s martyrdom to illustrate just how far out of the Mainstream I am.
This is only one example of hundreds I could offer. But rather than do that, I’ll just ask you to trust me when I tell you: If I really really like something, it will go nowhere with the Masses; and if I really really dislike something, it will make a zillion dollars, spawn spin-off websites and frozen dinners, and inspire tens of thousands of acolytes to dress up in imitation of it.
And recently, to my dismay, I’ve seen evidence that after almost twenty-eight years of marriage, my bad mojo has rubbed off on my beloved spouse. Case in point: Within the last two years, Barb has found Campbell’s Chicken Verde Condensed Soup to be quite useful in concocting quick-and-tasty Tex-Mex cuisine. But now (you guessed it) they’ve decided to stop making the stuff.
In other words – No more Soup for Barb, either.
So I hereby publicly apologize to my wife for bringing this curse upon her.
And now, finally, I’ll reveal that all of the above is merely a prelude to noting that yesterday, Senator John Edwards ended his candidacy for President of the United States.
Yup, that’s right. He was my boy.
In fact, two months ago, if you’d asked me what my ideal Democratic Prez/Vice Prez ticket would be, I would’ve said, “Edwards/Richardson.”
But now, just like Cappio, that’s off the shelves. To put it mildly. (“Terminated with Extreme Prejudice” might be more accurate.)
And, yes, because I know you’re wondering . . . with regard to the two major Democratic candidates left standing, I DO have a preference.
But if you think I’m gonna say which one, yer a-smokin’ da wacky weed.
I mean, consider my record. Back in college, I was for John Anderson. John Freakin’ Anderson. Remember him?
Nope. Didn’t think so.
So I’m keeping my damn mouth shut about the remaining Candidates until after next Tuesday. At least.
Thus, all I can allow myself to say in conclusion is:
If I had been old enough to buy an Edsel when they came out . . . hell, I’d probably still be driving it.
Or trying to.