One of the fond memories of my teenage years takes me back to the long, hot and humid summer days in Kewanee, Illinois, when my buddies and I would sit for hours on the steps of John Draminski’s grocery store telling filthy stories and bragging of sexual conquests (that, of course, never ever happened; although I did have the thrill of holding hands one time with a sophomore girl known as “bare-hand Sal”)…..never got to second base.
On those lazy, endless summer days, I must have consumed gallons of “soda pop” and pounds of walloping, sugar-ladened chocolate treats.
However, we were an astute bunch. No Coca-Cola for us (those six-and-a-half ounce bottles were too small). No Pepsi either. We had a taste only for the “CHIEF” of the colas – the “BOSS” of the brimming bottle: a thundering 16-OUNCE “ice-chest cold” ROYAL CROWN COLA. All mine for all of five cents.
Of course, this select group of teenage, dog-days degenerates were equally discerning when it came to the chocolate treats we washed down with a he-man swig of our RC Cola. (I can’t imagine that much sugar, all at once).
Draminski’s always kept a healthy stock of WHOOPIE PIES – vanilla cream frosting sandwiched between two chocolate cake-like cookies.
Also in the store were VANILLA BUNS with a chocolate-salted peanut covering (think of a Nut Goodie). We also enjoyed HOSTESS CHOCOLATE CUPCAKES – but they were a dime. Only occasionally did our junk-food budget stretch that far.
Once in a while, John Draminski would get a small delivery of something called MOON PIES. I had occasionally seen them at the Piggly Wiggly grocery store out on Tenny Street, but never thought much about them. Someone said they were pretty good and had a marshmallow filling between two chocolate-dipped graham crackers.
Then one day this guy wandered into Draminski’s and said, “I reckon I’ll have me a bottle of pop and a Moon Pie.” As he spoke, he reached for a strapping bottle of Royal Crown Cola bobbing in the ice chest by the register.
I don’t know if I had ever heard a southern drawl, but I said to him, “You’re not from around these parts, are ya?”
“Naw,” he said, “I’m from Chattanooga, Tennessee, the home of the Moon Pies.”
So I bought a Moon Pie, too – my first.
We sat for a while and he proudly told me that Moon Pies were a workingman’s treat because they were large and filling and gave men a lot of energy. They were popular among coal miners, who would take ‘em down in the mines for their lunch break. He said they were a “Southern thang” and it was unusual to see them this far north.
(I was pleased that he considered Kewanee part of the North, as my family certainly didn’t want to be associated with those hillbillies from Southern Illinois. Sorry, Joanne.)
I really liked Moon Pies. I guess I got hooked, because every time the store received a shipment, I was first in line. Besides, they were bigger than the other treats and still only cost a nickel.
Soon after, I began to take notice that, once in a while, Moon Pies would pop up in gas stations and hardware stores around the outskirts of Chicago, Peoria, and even in Kewanee. I thought that guy from Chattanooga said they were from down south. But I looked into it recently and learned that the pies followed the migration of factory workers to the northern cities. Made sense.
Also, not frequently, but now and then, I would spot ads promoting the pairing of Royal Crown Cola and a Moon Pie. And as Joanne and I drove back from Florida several years ago, (when driving was our only affordable option) we spotted several iterations of ads plugging the pair. NASCAR sponsors a Moon Pie racing car. Downtown Chattanooga once put a giant RC Cola and a billboard-sized image of a Moon Pie above a movie theater marquee. Farmers found a little revenue by allowing painted ads on their barns.
Even Mr. Rogers, got in on the act before he died in 2003. Along the way we learned of an annual festival in Bell Buckle, Tennessee celebrating the growing cult-like marriage of Moon Pie and RC Cola. Truck stops and gas stations also sold thermometers and t-shirts pairing the two products.
And in the film, THE GREEN MILE, starring Tom Hanks, there’s a scene where an imprisoned Toot is drinking a bottle of RC Cola and about to eat a Moon Pie when death-row inmate Wild Bill, in the adjoining cell, offers to buy the pie for a nickel. What follows is explosive…you better watch.
Best of all, BUBBA got his 6-PACK – and huffily offers, “IT’S A SOUTHERN THANG. YOU WOULDN’T UNDERSTAND”.
No doubt Bubba is right. I’LL PROBABLY NEVER UNDERSTAND.
But my memories are indelible. I’ll always cherish those hot summer days with my pals, sitting out front on Draminski’s steps with a step-over-dog asleep on the shady sidewalk in front of us…and me, wolfing down ROYAL CROWN COLAS and MOON PIES.
And perhaps a hush-hush smoke afterwards.
WTF,
PHIL