AS REGULAR READERS of this blog know, Sunday night found me driving around aimlessly just to enjoy the air conditioning in my car, on account of the oppressive humidity we’re suffering through here in Southern California — thank you, unseasonable July rainstorm! — when I happened by a Taco Bell (one of those ‘quick-serve’ restaurants we’ve been hearing about).
Sunday night is traditionally pizza night in the Parsnips household, but as I wasn’t in the Parsnips household, but rather in the Parsnips carhold (I guess), why not enjoy a good wholesome dinner from Taco Bell, right? Why not indeed! Like our First Lady says, Taco Bell has the food choices Americans can feel good about!
So I drove up and what do I see but this ad slick [industry term] on the window of the establishment.
The food inventing geniuses at Taco Bell Labs, in cooperation with the Quaker Oats people, probably, just gave us Cap’n Crunch Delights. That cements the deal. I’m going in.
Or rather, I went in. No sense changing tenses mid-stream (to mix metaphors mid-stream).
A side note: Cap’n Crunch Delights are not to be confused with Cap’n Crunch Treats, which we covered here some time ago, and which even might make a cameo appearance elsewhere in this post!
Anyway! I got a few of those Taco Whosits and an order of Nacho Dealies plus a couple of them Burrito McGees, a Chalupa This, an Enchordito That, and a Grilled Stuffed Whatsit or two — on account of you don’t want to just order the Cap’n Crunch Delights alone, because you’ll either look like a pathetic loser or a sad blogger. And yes, those two descriptors are mutually exclusive if only to afford myself some dignity; a man of my age and social standing buying these things.
So, I ordered the rest of the food, as I said, and then, very cleverly, almost as though it was an afterthought, I ordered that which I specifically went in for.
“Yes, that does complete my order,” I responded to the counter-person’s polite inquiry. “But, hullo, what’s this that I’m just noticing now? ‘Cap’n…Crunch…Delights.’ Huh. Huh. Interesting. Well, why not, right? Hold on just a moment, old man! Let’s go ahead and add some of those Delights — the Cap’n Crunch Delights — to my order. Just a two-pack will do. Thank you.”
Now I was kind of taking a risk just ordering the 2-pack and I’ll tell you why: One gets no sense of scale from the in-store promotional materials for these items — I had no idea how big or small they were. And I certainly wasn’t going to be one of those people who ask to see the Delights in person before making up his mind. Would a 2-pack be enough? Should I have gone for the 4-pack instead? Or thrown caution to the wind and picked up the 12-pack, or “dozen?”
Too late — I went with the 2-pack for a dollar and hoped for the best. Price and participation may vary.
With bag in hand, I headed home. Regardless of how much of a disgusting slob you insist that I am, I draw the line at eating Taco Bell food in the car, as that’s too messy even for me. And that line I drew…? Actually, it’s not so much a line as just an errant French fry that fell onto the floor from my last foray to Jack in the Box (and which shall remain there until I’m feeling a bit peckish).
Once home, I ate the other food, and as delicious as everything was, it was only a precursor, a main course if you will, to what would in effect be the dessert: These Cap’n Crunch Delights.
The question was “Would these Delights in fact be delights?” — ‘delights’ being a word we don’t throw around here willy-nilly.
They came in this little paper sack here, which you can bet I’ve saved to put up on Flickr (at which point I’ll immediately be contacted by the moderator of a group called “Mexican Fast Food Chain / General Mills Cereal Crossover Menu Item Packaging” and asked if it can be added to their gallery).
I tapped the bag over a plate, and here’s what rolled out for my dollar:
They were about an inch and a half in diameter, if that, and not quite as thick as they were wide, quite red in color, and besprinkled in crushed Cap’n Crunch cereal — giving them almost a sandy texture. The overall visual impression is not unlike what I, and now you, would imagine the result would be if Cap’n Crunch himself happened upon Jean LaFoote on a beach, with LaFoote getting the upper hand with that sword of his and making the Cap’n start singing soprano.
But I guess “Cap’n Crunch Testicles” doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue (well, with their round shape, technically they would), so I can see why they went with “Cap’n Crunch Delights.”
Still, I think they should have called them “Battle Creek Oysters.” And yes, I’m aware it’s Kellogg’s, not Quaker Oats, that’s headquartered there. But it just kind of works.
…Oh, oh! The review! Right!
They tasted good.
This here book!
Look! It’s inscribed!
Inscribed books are the best used books, ’cause they can tell as much of a story as the book itself!
And the story this inscription tells is that little Henry didn’t make as much of an impression on Mrs. Robinson as she did on him…
…because, uh, she donated the book to Goodwill.
Here’s one I’ve been saving for the summer, when the winter-themed imagery below will help everyone enjoy a much-needed break from all the hot weather!
It’s a snow globe!
At least I think it’s a snow globe. Here, let me shake it up to be sure…
Yep, yep — it’s a snow globe!
Unfortunately, I have no idea what it’s a snow globe of!
There’s something in there, I think, but God only knows what it is, for all the dirty water!
Now get this: It was originally priced, on February 10th of last year (I told ya I’d been sitting on these pics for while!), for $3.99. You’re a reasonable person so you’ll concede, won’t you, that a secondhand snow globe with water so filthy-dirty that you can’t tell what’s inside is, shall we say, a tad overpriced at $3.99, right?
But it didn’t sell!
So they re-priced it on March 2nd…
…for four dollars more!
AH, the magnificent Popeye cartoons of the early 1960s!
As all of you know, by the late 1950s, the Popeye theatrical shorts released by Fleischer / Paramount / Famous Studios for the past near-quarter century had been packaged for TV and become a hit with kiddies nationwide.
“More! Give us more!” broadcasters screamed, and King Features Syndicate, owner of the popular sailor, acquiesced.
“You thought them old ones was something? Phphpht! You ain’t seen nothing yet!” read a press release at the time, probably, and with that, 220 additional Popeye cartoons were commissioned and artistically rendered between 1960 and 1962 — each and every one of them a bonafide masterpiece.
Loved by not only Popeye fans everywhere but serious animation aficionados and scholars of all kinds, these 5 minute, 40 second masterpieces have since been lauded by cartoon historians and experts such as Beck, Evanier, Maltin and Amidi* as among the best cartoons ever produced and are, to this day, universally recognized as examples of the animation art form at its highest. All 220 of them have a permanent place in the Library of Congress. (I would assume.)
*Mark Beck, Leonard Evanier, Jerry Maltin and Mark Amidi. Who did you think I was talking about?
Yet, despite all the high praise for what was termed at the time (and ever since) as the cartoons that ushered in “the true Golden Era of Animation,” there was — alas! — a less savory side to them.
Producing over 200 cartoons each with lush animation that rivaled the ‘Night On Bald Mountain’ sequence in Disney’s Fantasia did not come cheap. In order to finance the project, the cost of production had to be subsidized somehow. And that’s when King Features Syndicate quietly lined up potential sponsors to help foot the bill.
Now it can be told: The Popeye cartoons of the early 1960s were rife with product placement.
From “Bazillion Whacks” (1960).
From “Groin With The Wind” (1960).
From “Go Flock Yourself” (1962).
From “Beatnik Off” (1961). [No longer shown on TV today because the word “Mexican” is racist.]
From “Special Edjamakation” (1961).
From “Proctological Liar” (1962).
From “Deep Trout” (1961).
From “Irritable Growl Syndrome” (1960).
From “Urine the Money” (1961).
From “Roofy Goofy” (1960).
From “Danger — Perves Ahead” (1961).
From “Projectile Dysfunction” (1961).
From “Popeye’s Glasgow Smile” (1960).
From “Yeast Inflection” (1962).
From “A Portion Is Murder” (1961).
Oh, think that’s bad? That’s nothin’!
Turns out this stuff is all over the place!
Like, in practically every cartoon! Man, the things you don’t notice when you’re a stupid kid!
I guess the other thing none of us ever realized before is how suggestive some of the titles of the cartoons were. And that many of the double-entendres made no sense 55 years ago.
Okay, let’s end this before my attorney needs some spinach himself — haw!