As a child growing up in Ashdown, Arkansas, we had two main grocery stores. Shur-Way and Piggly Wiggly. Or as my dad called it, “the Hoggly Woggly.”

And a trip to the store was like each TV commercial had come to life.

Advertising agencies at the time were very good at what they did. Think about how much artful effort goes into tying elves to cookies, a talking fish to tuna, and a tiger to sugar-drenched corn flakes.

And then convincing kids to wart their parents to buy it all, and the parents willingly buying it.

Mad Men were the real deal.

Cap’n Crunch made me want his cereal. The leprechaun made my sister want Lucky Charms. Charlie the Tuna made us both want Star-Kist for our sandwiches.

Once my sister and I were hopped up on all of that convincing advertising and marketing, we went straight to the products once we arrived at the store.

Each of us felt like Indiana Jones as we uncovered treasures that were found on specific aisles.

Mainly the cereal aisle.

Super Sugar Crisp, Corn Flakes with instant bananas, Life, Puffed Rice, Puffed Wheat, and chocolate flavored oatmeal were just a few of the items my sister and I focused on in an attempt to eat our way to a mouthful of cavities.

In the comic strip Calvin and Hobbes, Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs was Calvin’s favorite. That wasn’t a real cereal, but it certainly wasn’t far off from the options we had available to us back in the day.

But many of our favorites are nowhere to be found today. Some products went away because the sales numbers weren’t there, while the disappearance of others can be credited to the food police.

I’m referring to people who think they know what’s best for the rest of us.

When was the last time you saw the cereals Jets, Hi-Pro, Corn Kix, Alpha Bits, and Kream Krunch (an ice cream-flavored cereal that should still be with us).

Other items we ate then are still available, but their advertising presence is virtually gone.

Nesquik chocolate mix has the mascot, “Quicky the Bunny” (I’m sure Quicky never liked that nickname, what guy would?). Hostess Twinkies had “Twinkie The Kid,” which was a Twinkie dressed like a cowboy. Even though he lost that gig, I’m fairly sure that he later got work as one of the Village People.

“Trix the Rabbit” deserves a special nod. He’s been hawking Trix Cereal since the 50s. We learned early that if we got our mom to buy us a box of Trix, we had to make sure not to share it. Cause Trix are for kids.

And then there was “Sonny the Cuckoo Bird,” who was “Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.”

There’s still a debate among the boys in my class over which cereal made the best leftover chocolate milk. Cocoa Puffs or Cocoa Pebbles. My money is on Cocoa Puffs.

If you were a kid who grew up during this era, lunch had three major food groups: tuna, peanut butter and jelly, and fried baloney.

Star-Kist was all that my sister and I wanted. Mom mixed that with mayo.

Peter Pan was the preferred peanut butter. The crunchy version, mixed with homemade jelly or a banana.

As for our baloney, let’s just say it had a first name.

There were other non-edible treasures my sister and I kept an eye out for, but they weren’t on the shelves. They hung from the racks that hung from the shelves. You still see them today. Products that are dangling from clips and offer to solve a problem.

There were drain catchers that kept food debris from going down the sink. A needed tool before garbage disposals were commonplace. But what made the drain catchers irresistible were the colors.

“Mama! Can we have the blue one?” I asked.

“No!” My sister said. “We’re getting the red one!”

“We’re not getting either one,” my mom told us. “Not at 29 cents. That’s way too much.”

Once upon a time, 29 cents was worth something.

Later on, the drain catchers could still be found on the grocery store aisle, yet now the colors were expanded and included sparkles.

But hanging next to them were scented colored balls that dissolve when you drop them down the garbage disposal.

“Dad, can we get these?” My son asked me. “Can we get the blue ones?”

“No!” said my other son. “We’re getting the red ones!”

“We’re not getting either one,” I answered. “Those things are a dollar ninety-nine.”

This was back when a dollar ninety-nine was worth something.

Whether it’s cereal, tuna, or an overpriced miracle product hanging out in the open, the grocery store is an excursion every kid should experience.

Without interference from the food police. If our kids want to put the dentist’s kids through private school, that’s our business.

 

©2024 John Moore

John’s books, Puns for Groan People and Write of Passage: A Southerner’s View of Then and Now Vol. 1 and Vol. 2, are available on his website TheCountryWriter.com, where you can also send him a message.