Toney and I have vowed to shake things up a bit, and not just hang around the house all the time. Like sacks. There’s stuff to do, some of it not super-expensive. But do we do it? No, we do not. We just hang around. Like sacks. This is not the way we used to be, which concerns me. So, we’re shaking it up, dammit. It started with the New York City trip a few weeks ago, which we did basically on a whim. And this Sunday we spent the day in Jim Thorpe, PA. That’s a picture of the main drag above. I didn’t take it, it’s lifted straight off Google Images. But it gives you a general idea. It’s a quaint little town in the mountains, with shops ‘n’ shit.
It was a good day. I had some doubts, which is my nature, but it turned out well. Here are some random notes:
- As far as I know, Jim Thorpe never actually set foot in this town. Not when he was alive, anyway. He was from Oklahoma, I believe, and was Native American. When he died his wife was angry that his home state was not interested in erecting a statue or a tribute to Thorpe, the great athlete. So, she basically shopped his corpse around to the highest bidder. I think that’s how it went… And this little mountain town in Pennsylvania (called Mauch Chunk, if you can believe it) promised to change its name to Jim Thorpe, construct a proper tribute, and bury his remains. Of course they also believed it would attract tourists, which seems like a dubious assumption, in my opinion. But whatever. I told myself I’d read more about the history of all this when I got home, but just watched Master Chef instead. So, if I have any of it wrong… I apologize. But I think it’s fairly accurate. And it’s weird, huh? Perhaps my hometown of Dunbar can turn it all around by changing its name to Jack Benny, West Virginia?
- We toured the Old Jail yesterday. It is, as the name suggests, an old jail. More like a small prison, really. It’s very gothic and semi-creepy. Back in the 1870s some members of an Irish secret society, called the Molly Maguires, were hanged there. They were coal miners, accused of murder. Again, I’m foggy on the details… But I think they were moving in the direction of early union activity, and the company crushed it with trumped up charges, and a kangaroo court. One of the men put his hand print on the wall of his cell, and announced that it would remain there forever, as a testament to his innocence. He sounds fairly high-maintenance to me… But the print is still there, even after they supposedly painted over it multiple times, scrubbed it, etc. Here’s a page about it.
- The girl who hosted our tour was very young, possibly 16 or 17. She seemed nice and normal, but she had a typical tour guide’s demeanor. It’s hard to explain what I mean by that. But many tour guides have a specific way of talking, and an attitude that I find mildly off-putting. I think I could do that job without the swagger and the predictable cadence. I believe it can be done. Who decided that tour guides, all around the world, must talk that way? And how did this girl, who is younger than some of the socks in my dresser drawer, already become indoctrinated? Did they send her off to tour guide college, maybe in Albert Einstein, Tennessee? Or Paul Harvey, Kentucky? I tried to discuss this fascinating phenomenon with Toney during the ride home, but she just sighed and would not engage.
- There was an old row house for sale directly across the street from the jail. It looked to be fully restored, and in great shape. We were looking through the windows, ooohing and awwwing. I asked Toney how much she thought something like that would cost, and she said $300,000. That sounded low to me, and I said a million. Well, check it out. Built in 1860, fully restored and cool as shit. I’d be all over it, if I wasn’t, you know… a sack.
- We were in an antique store with cool items like an original unused Woodstock ticket ($54), and an 8×10 photo autographed by Mike Connors, who played Mannix ($22). It was fantastic! Right up my alley. But the owner snapped and told everybody to get out. It was strange. He voiced a few apologies, but his tone wasn’t apologetic at all. There were probably ten people in the shop at the time, and he asked us all to leave. Then he locked the door, and that was that. But thirty minutes later we walked by there again, and he was open for business. Who the hell knows? Maybe his Taco Bell lunch was going rogue on him? Any ideas what it might’ve been about?
- We walked past a small shop that advertised ice cream and “vintage” candies. I’ve been suckered by the vintage candy promise before, and have always come away disappointed. They all have the same stuff: Clove gum, bubble gum cigars, etc. But I’m looking for something specific and highly elusive: Zotz. It’s a hard candy with something fizzy in the middle, sold in strips. They were around when I was a kid, and are apparently still available. But I never see ’em. Until yesterday! That place actually had the things, and I bought two strips of four, for 45 cents each. I gave one to the younger boy, waiting to see his reaction when the fizzing commenced. But he rolled with it, which is a ripoff. It was exciting, though. The highlight of the day. It’s been a decades-long Zotz drought for yours truly. What candy or snack from your kidhood do you wish you could find again? Anything? How about Prontos? Do any of you remember those?
It was a good day. Much better than hanging around the house, or walking through Sam’s Club, or whatever. We’re shaking it up like Ocasek, dammit!
But I need to go to work now. You guys have yourselves a fine day, y’hear?
And I’ll see you again on Thursday.
Now playing in the bunker
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Greetings from Jack Cassidy, NC*
*Name pending
Not to be confused with Charles Nelson Reilly, North Dakota.
I remember Zotz. That takes me back to 1973. And we use to pick up pop bottles and trade them for candy.
There is a movie about that deal – The Molly Maguires (1970). Sean Connery and Richard Harris are it.
Next time you come to NYC, I’ll take you to Economy Candy on Essex Street. I’ll stuff my Zotz hole with so many candies my head will blow off like Mikey from the LIfe Cereal Commercials. Or was that a Pop Rocks catastrophe?
The Asa Packer Mansion in Jim Thorpe is pretty cool in that, it’ s all original. You know how a historical society or something gets a mansion and restores it, then has to “recreate” all the stuff in it? As I remember, this place is just as it was left in 1912 or so.
I was a huge fan of Green Apple Zotz growing up. I get them for my kids now at a place called Rocket Fizz, which is a chain all over the US. Check it out: http://rocketfizz.com/locations/
It’s mildly depressing though… all the things you grew up with thinking were unique or gone forever seem to pop up under some of the most mundane and pedestrian circumstances which makes it less special. Somehow I blame Napster and MP3s for all of this. But that’s a longer story…
I’m concerned that an add posted on Zillow worded such as the one for this row house may not have been posted by the sharpest knife in the drawer. Call me crazy, but these kind of things make me grind my teeth. I suppose I should remember some people have never been exposed to a master suite before now.
“It features a new master sweet with tiled bath “
Yeah, I was thinking that master sweet sounds pretty suite. And it has no air conditioning – just like Victorian times!
I’d think a town named Mauch Chunk would be looking for any excuse to change their name.
The tour guide cadence makes me think of the Bar-Mitzvah Boy character that Vanessa Bayer did on SNL. She would read from a prepared story, and whenever anyone tried to engage with her, she’d pause, and then return to the story, without acknowledging the questions or comments.
I loved Prontos! From what I recall of their taste, I believe contemporary Sun Chops come the closest to replicating the Prontos eating experience.
Sun CHIPS, dammit…
Marathon Bars. “Candy You Ate As a Kid” offers (or used to offer) a facsimile of this under a different name that wasn’t bad. This is also where you can get Zotz, et al.
Marathon candy bars are what I miss. They were huge, and as advertised, lasted a “good long time!” You got your money’s worth for a Quarter or whatever they cost back in the Dark Ages when Carter was president!
Thinking of a snack that no longer exists–one of my favorites was Planter’s Cheez Balls. Nothing else tasted as good as those!
Yep. I’ll jump on the Marathon bandwagon. I still have no idea why they went away and yet the Baby Ruth, Payday, and Butterfinger endure.
We’re fans of free or very low cost activites. Universities often have free museums or exhibits. We take the kids to them in the winter just for a change of scenery.
When the weather is good, towns all over have little festivals and street fairs. Some around here have live music in their town squares every week. We grab a five dollar pizza and go listen to a local band while the kids run around.
Most of these little trips cost a couple of bucks for gas and get us out of the house. And it’s a good thing, because my sack game is pro level. I’ve gotten to the point where every piece of clothing that I wear at work, out in the summer, or any time I’m home has a drawstring waist. Even my most broken in Levis are too constricting.
I had to wear long pants (trousers to you John) on Sunday for the first time since May. That was unpleasant, back in shorts again now. Need to avoid those fancy restaurants.
I’ve not worn long pants since VE day and, though the evening is beginning to chill my thighs, I intend to hold out until Niels Bohr’s birthday (Oct 7).
Limey, did you discover a paying job at which one isn’t required to wear trousers? I’m afraid I’m too old to do that job well.
John
UPS? United P*n*s Drivers do have to work hard, pun intended. Shorts are allowed though, but only in the clothing department.
I’m the boss. No long pants, no shoes for me, unless the weather says otherwise.
Mon Dieu. If you’re ever looking for a broken down old man who’s really good at wearing shorts and knows all the lyrics to The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan by heart, be sure to look me up.
You must be the player to be named later who finally completes the T. S. Eliot trade. They tried to send Oswald Mosley in exchange, but we rejected him on the grounds that, despite claims to the contrary, the trains failed to run on time. And the fascism thing. Throws right, bats right, leans right.
John
Strange guy Oswald Mosley, he did a number on his son Max, who, when married and in his 60s, was caught organizing a five hooker Nazi-themed orgy for himself. Is there a psychiatrist in the house?
I love both the Zero bar and the Zagnut, Rarely see either but I can get both at one of the Jungle Jim’s Markets in the area. Both stores are at least a 40 minute drive so I don’t get them very often.
Classic WVSR today. Well done.
Could it be that the proprietor of the antique shop became enraged when a certain someone grabbed the Mike Conners picture, squealed like a young schoolgirl, and pranced about the store while bellowing the Mannix theme?
Peg could get it, yo.
‘shaking it up like Ocasek’ – instant classic.
https://www.oldtimecandy.com/
In particular: https://www.oldtimecandy.com/nsearch/?q=zotz
Taking inspiration from you re: the ‘sack life.’ I don’t get out much, need to change that. Husband is out and about doing band stuff/sound gigs and being pilot-y, while I sit at home. Need to call on my list of liars and backstabbers to go out and DO stuff with me before my ass grows into my desk chair.
Not candy, but I remember loving the zeppole that were made to order at various block parties (aka street fairs) in Brooklyn. I haven’t had one since 1972 or 73. Sadly depriving me of nostalgic yearning, the candies I liked in those days are still made: Special Dark, Nestle Crunch, $100,000, Whoppers, Red Hots, Good and Plenty…
Much more recently, we picked up some teaberry flavored ice cream at a little store near Harrisburg. It’s closed now, and I can’t remember the name, but it was on Rte. 15 and had a big statue of a cow on the roof, visible from the road.
I had a fancy ass creation of a zeppole this past winter at a local restaurant. My friend slammed down 4 before I took my first bite. You can still find them on the jersey shore in summer. And the feast of San gennero is going on right now if you’re in the area.
We had a thing that the neighborhood kids called “the saint,” where a papier mache likeness of the Virgin Mary would be paraded down the street by a crowd. Is that the same thing?
Prontos were the progenitors of the Sun Chip. I recall my young palate being mildy repulsed by their surprising, unsnackchiplike sweetness. But I still finished the bag.
ChocoLite candy bars were a delicious derivation of a Whatchamacallit, whipped milk chocolate with crispy treats scattered therein. They disappeared rather suddenly. Cherryheads might still exist.
The shop owner might have been alarmed at the volume of people in the store, and hit the panic button before someone dashed out the front door with a Dennis Weaver action figure =^/
I’m in love with that row house. The pictures probably don’t do it justice.
My aunt once cleaned out a vending machine when she saw it was stacked with Sky Bars.
Do they still make mallo cups? That was always a staple in my Halloween sack.
Don’t let nobody pick your fun…
I remember Zotz. I loved them. Especially the grape ones. My step-dad was a candy salesman and Planter’s distributor in the 70’s and he was always bringing home new candy for us to try. There were so many that were good, but alot of them never made it to a store shelf. He would bring home expired nuts, too. I don’t know who decided when nuts expire, but I never had any that tasted stale or were in any way bad.
My favorite candy that is no longer available is Wonka’s Oompas. Not the fruity ones. I loved the ones that were half chocolate and half peanut butter. I looked everywhere, then found out they’ve been discontinued by Wonka.
I aspire to be a sack. I work too much.
Writing from my day job in Don Knotts, WV*
*name pending
I’m currently on vacation HaRvey korman, RI,
Name pending.
Can’t find d the asterisk on my tablet.
Well, everybody’s building the big ships and the boats
Some are building monuments
Others jotting down notes
Ev’rybody’s in despair
Every girl and boy
But when d the asterisk gets here
Ev’rybody’s gonna jump for joy
jtb
Skybar candy bars. A little candy buffet in one package