You’ve all heard about this drama surrounding Coca-Cola’s attempt to save polar bears, aye?

I’ll be honest: I’ve only digested the broad strokes. Why bother putting research into this, when my real goal is to just show off a new Slurpee?

From what I can gather, the story goes like this: Coke, in their continuing effort to make the world better for polar bears, has released special edition cans with cute polar bear graphics on them. I assume that there's some monetary donation aspect to this, as I can’t imagine Coca-Cola calling bear-themed can graphics “charity” without one.

All well and good. The cans are adorable. The problem, some say, is that these cans of normal Coca-Cola look too much like cans of Diet Coke. The complaints were large and loud enough for Coca-Cola to halt production and do everything short of a full-scale recall. I guess people who are too stupid to read cans are the winners, but what about the losers? What about the polar bears?

Polar bears get mean when they’re caught in the middle. They're no longer cute. Unless, by “caught in the middle,” you mean literally, as if two brave jerks surrounded a polar bear and threw a beach ball to one another, just out of its reach. Then they’re still cute, flopping their heads and paws around like that.

That’s one of the cans. It does bear a stronger resemblance to Diet Coke than normal Coke, but, you know, it still doesn’t say “diet” anywhere. I'd also imagine that some potential confusion may be disarmed by the 10’ “DRINK COCA-COLA & SAVE BEARS” banners peppering every location where it's currently sold. This whole thing just makes me mad. Do I sound mad?

I’m sketchy on the details beyond this. I know Coca-Cola did something to make things right, but I’m not sure if it was merely a promise to stop making diet-looking non-diet cans in the future, or something more aggressive. It’d be interesting if retail chains were actually being told to remove them from store shelves. Stuff like that usually only happens when secret poison is involved.

Well, that’s almost ten paragraphs. It’s at least more than five paragraphs. Now I can Slurpee like a turkey. (Trademarked.) (more...)

It’s the scariest time of year. The time of year when we, the Christmas lovers, become lulled into that familiar and false sense of security.

“Oh, it’s barely mid-December, there’s still plenty of time left.”

Okay, but that “plenty of time" sure has a habit of feeling like two seconds. Make the mistake of blinking, and Christmas will already be over.

If you’ve been going about your Christmasing in a lazy way, it's time to pick up the pace. Buy your gifts, watch your classics, and light at least one hideously overpowering pine-scented candle. If you don’t do it now, you might have to wait until 2012. That's risky business. Remember what the Mayans said.

Taking my own advice, I noticed that I still have three more chapters in The Greatest Christmas Presents Ever series to get through. If I don’t want to be singing Santa’s praises in January (and I don’t), I better open the rest of these old ratty toys soon.

Let’s start now!

This is one of the big ones. Maybe the biggest.

If nothing else, it's certainly the oldest. I received it on Christmas Eve in 1983, which would’ve made me just slightly under five-years-old.

I know, I know. You’ll never believe that I remember something from when I was that young, that long ago. I swear, I do. It’s the only thing I remember from that Christmas, but I swear, I do.

It was Christmas Eve. The big party at our house. Thirty people and thirty courses. As usual, my parents’ bedroom had been repurposed as the “coat room,” and what seemed like 500 jackets were piled on their bed.

I was drawn to Mount Coat in the same way kids can't resist freshly raked piles of leaves. But this was even better. Instead of dirty wet leaves, I was swimming through fake fur and nylon. Just absolute glory.

Somewhere in that pile, I felt something. Something way too hard and bulky to be anyone's jacket. Call it a sixth sense, but I knew it was going to be one of my presents. Since I was four-years-old, and Christmas was all about me, there could be no other explanation.

Under all of the coats, there it was. Unwrapped and still in a shopping bag.

I couldn’t have known it at the time, but I’d go on to value it as one of the greatest Christmas presents I ever received, even over 25 years later.

Get ready. Get set. Bo!

Shuda. (more...)

I love scoping out the supermarkets at Christmastime. I shouldn't admit it, but that’s one of my favorite pastimes of the entire year.

You just never know when the makers of an everyday foodstuff will see fit to redress their wares in red and green. I’ve learned to take nothing for granted. Most supermarkets have a “holiday aisle,” but you can’t end the search there. Use Christmas as an opportunity to visit the aisles you normally never do. Hell, I’ve even spotted a little Christmas by the light bulbs.

Proof: Last night, I found the greatest Toaster Strudel ever, hidden so deep within Stop & Shop’s frozen section that you’d swear they didn’t actually want to sell it.

I’ve never purchased or even eaten Toaster Strudel in my life. It hasn’t been a conscious decision: Our paths just never seemed to cross. Point is, when you’re on a 32 year hot streak of total unfamiliarity with Toaster Strudel, you’re not going to mess it up unless you have a very good reason.

And boy, this was a very good reason.

From Pillsbury, it’s limited edition Cream Cheese & Strawberry Toaster Strudel, with an added bonus that has brought me perilously close to exploding into a storm of heart-shaped confetti.

This strudel. Comes with. Green. Holiday. Icing.

If you consider yourself a Christmas lover, you better be excited. All of the storied Christmas lovers are. Me, Bing, Bethany – each of us is overjoyed. There are only two things that can make Kevin McCallister do his hands-on-the-face super scream: After shave, and Toaster Strudel with green holiday icing. (more...)