What's your favorite memory of being a kid?
Is it the last day of school, waiting as the clock ticks away precious seconds until you run out of the building like you just got a call from the Governor?
Is it Christmas morning? Wrapped presents and green trees and tinsel and whatever family tradition only you have but don't understand why everyone else doesn't?
Maybe it's something simple, something like a sack lunch on a field trip.
Who doesn't love a sack lunch? A juice box or soda, a Big Grab (a marker of high status at my elementary school) and a ziplock bag with a slightly smooshed peanut butter and jelly sandwich; the essentials of a classic brown bag feast for a kid.
Now, who wouldn't want to relive these memories through the magic powers of vodka?
No, I don't mean "reliving memories" by drinking and then facebooking all the girls you went to school with to see "what's up?"
That's not called "reliving a memory". That's called "learning how to deal with your first restraining order."
The kind of vodka powered memory I'm talking about is capturing the flavor of those childhood experiences, distilling it into a weapons grade alcohol, then selling it to people obsessed with their own childhood.
Introducing PB&J Vodka!
Finally, the flavor of vodka that no one wanted is available at your local store!
According to the good people at Van Gogh Vodka their expert vodkatologists have created a "delightfully smooth peanut butter and raspberry jelly flavored vodka."
I'm okay with most of the items on the list of vodka flavors that have flooded the market as of late. Most of them are flavored with some kind of fruit extract or reasonable chemical facsimile. Fine. Fruit in alcohol is a long held tradition amongst the many peoples of the world.
The only list peanut butter and jelly and vodka is on is the "worst hangover cures known to man" list; it comes it at number 6, between "Run it off!" and "seafood omelette".
Now peanut butter and jelly can joins the ranks of once reliable comfort food-turned glaring indicator of depression as whipped cream, cake, chocolate cake, and cotton candy.
Cotton candy flavored vodka. Just let that idea wash over you for a second.
And let us not forget the ridiculous flavor that got us here; bacon.
I am on record as taking a bold anti-bacon stance. I hate bacon. I once went to a party where the only condition for attending was to bring something that involved bacon; I brought scotch.
But even I had to try this alcobomination of flavors. It was salty, it was bacony, it was vodka. Result: disgusting.
I implore you, the powerful economic bloc that is my readership (both of you), to avoid this Frankenflavor gone wrong at all costs. Otherwise the day will come soon where the last of our childhood memories become the next cheaply flavored excuse to get drunk; and based on my childhood I don't want to see Nintendo flavored vodka anytime soon.
Copy Editor Wes Burns is a Friday columnist. The views expressed in this column are personal views of the writer and don't necessarily reflect the views of the T-R. Contact Wes Burns at 641-753-6611 or firstname.lastname@example.org.