JUNK FOOD STORIES

	The Space Program brought us, among other things, Tang. Once in a
	blue moon they'd come out with some new "exciting" flavor but to this day
	in the USA the only one you're likely to see in the Powdered Drinks aisle
	of a supermarket, or in the Diet & Health Foods aisle, which is pretty
	funny considering how much sugar is in the stuff. (Tang shares with Wasa
	crackers the distinction of being among those comestibles which
	supermarket organizers have no consensus as to their best location. Then
	there's soy sauce, which I use as much as oil and vinegar but which is
	always in the Oriental aisle, as if only Orientals use it. Speaking of
	which, why is it not politically incorrect to call in Oriental food?) When
	I was in San Angelo, Texas, in "1992", imagine my surprise to find
	Mango-flavored Tang (or "Tang sabor Mango"-- it was a bilingual label) on
	the shelf right next to what they call "orange". I bought a jar, and it was
	the best artificially-flavored sugar drink I'd ever tasted. I went back to
	get more and they were gone! They had been put in a shopping cart with
	other products that they were trying to clear in a hurry. Imagine my worry
	that, having found this powdered ambrosia, it appeared that it had just
	been discontinued! I bought all 13 jars.

        Upon return to the East Coast I called the 800 number on the jar to
	ask about where to get it, and the young lady said they only marketed it in
	Hispanic neighborhoods. I said "what about Manhattan? There are plenty of
	Hispanics there." She said she needed a zip code from which she could give
	locations within a mile or two of the center of the zip code. I gave the
	zip code 10023, which is middle West Side Manhattan. She said there was
	nothing listed in that area. I gave up. Then a week later I got a letter
	from them listing stores in Manhattan that carried Tang Sabor Mango,
	including one right inside the 10023 zip code. I went and sure enough,
	there it was.

        A few years later I did a concert in Chihuahua, Chihuahua State,
	ESM (Estados Unidos Mexicanos, which is the official name of the country,
	not just eThis translates as "The United States of M?xico". This is
	important to know if you're crossing the border. You can't just say you're
	from the United States and expect to be let back in.) During our off time
	we visited the local market. Of course I went to the powdered drink aisle,
	and yes indeed there was Mango Tang there. But not only Mango, but also
	Limen (lime), (spanish word for Apple) (apple), Jamaica (pronounced
	ha-My-ca) a purple Mexican fruit, I think and... Durazno (peach). (Oh
	yes, and the original flavor as well.) For my money, Durazno is even better
	than Mango. If anyone in M?xico is reading this, please send me a large
	amount of Tang sabor Durazno, straight away.

        A year or so after that, I had a gig in El Paso, which is across
	the river from Ciudad Juarez, also in Chihuahua State, Mexico. One night
	one of the local singers reserved a table at Viva Mexico!, a restaurant
	with floor show in Ju?rez, in the Mexican analogue of a mall. Basically an
	adobe mall. There was a supermarket there, so I went to stock up on Tang,
	and discovered yet another, new, flavor, Mandarina (Tangerine). It's
	leagues better than the usual American flavor, but of course you can't get
	it north of the border. (I should mention that we do have another Tang
	flavor in the States, but it's not worth speaking about.) I noticed
	something else in that store: there is no Hi-C of any flavor. What seems to
	have happened, as in nature, is that Tang has filled the niche in Mexican
	markets that Hi-C had already captured in American ones with the result
	that Mexicans, whatever other inferiorities there may or may not be in
	their standards of living, are enjoying some of the best artificially
	flavored powdered sugar drinks available to humankind.

        But the story doesn't end there! I was in Edmonton, Alberta,
	Canada, after the El Paso gig, and strolling through The Real Superstore I
	chanced upon yet another Tang flavor unavailable south of that border:
	Grape. My memory holds that Grape Tang was in American stores for a while,
	but is no longer. With Welch's readily available, though, Grape Tang
	wouldn't be worth it. (I don't know if Welch's exists in Canada. Nabisco
	does exist there; however, in Canada it's called Christie's.)
 
        In Indianola, Iowa, in "1991", at a store called Pamida, I first
	saw a different kind of Tostitos: Lime & Chili flavor. (Be careful: this is
	NOT the "Hint of Lime" chip now universally available.) This was Lime &
	Chili, and for a flavored salty fried food it was odd in that there were no
	artificial ingredients. It was the best chip I'd ever had. I came home with
	the empty pockets of my car stuffed with bags of it. I called THEIR 800
	number to find out that they didn't market Lime & Chili Tostitos east of
	Chicago. 

	"Our market surveys indicated that people in those areas didn't
	like them," 

	she said. I kid you not. My girlfriend and I were in
	Indianapolis, just a few miles east of Chicago's latitude. I asked the
	local Cub Foods to buy some, which they did, and I was probably the only
	one who bought them. I ran into them in Dallas, Portland and Miami (which
	last I checked was way east of Chicago). Then a few years ago these "Hint	
	of Lime" chips hit the shelves, and now Lime & Chili Tostitos seem to have
	been discontinued in favor of this chip with artificial green in it and no
	chili. So I write this as a eulogy to perhaps the best snack food ever made
	(and undermarketed) by a major coporation. The best part of it was the
	layer of lime and chili flavor that was deposited on your fingers while you
	ate the chips, which you then got to scrape off with your teeth. Mmm-mm.
        However, about the same time Lime & Chili Tostitos disappeared, I
	discovered Boulder Malt Vinegar and Sea Salt potato chips, which though
	different are as good as the Tostitos. Their distribution is peppery,
	though: only at health food stores and absent from many of them.
        I should mention that there is a Chili and Lime corn chip from one
	of the "natural" companies, available in health food stores nationwide, but
	it's nothing like the Tostitos variety. Too thick, not crunchy enough, and
	the lime flavor is odd.
 
        I learned from these adventures that corporations are very
	particular about where and how to market their products and are often in
	error, and we consumers almost never hear about it.