RE: Pizza Spins
Pizza Spins was my absolute addiction.
There was no other food, fresh, canned, bottled or boxed, that drove me to "pig out" like Pizza Spins. My dad started me on them in, I believe, 1970, 71 when I was recuperating in a hospital with a broken leg. I never tasted anything so scrumptious in my life! Crisp, spicy, crunchy and light as a feather; they went down perfectly with a ice cold Pepsi. I ate them out of the box so frequently that the fingertips of my right hand were usually always discolored from the food dye! Ask me if I cared.
Whenever my mom went to the grocery store, I went through all the bags first (paper bags back then) to locate my box of Spins. I would squirrel them away in my bedroom, pantry, kitchen cupboard, anywhere that would keep them safe from my other siblings. Fortunately, my brother prefered those damned bugles and my young sisters were still into Lucky Charms and Frosted (yewwww!) Pop Tarts. The Pizza Spins were mine, all mine. I loved placing them, one at a time, on my tougne, and (testing the strength of my flavor-loving appendage) pressing it against the roof of my mouth to gently crunch it into tasty oblivion. I loved the shape, the smell, and the exquisite flavor which, by the way, didn't taste anything at all like a "pizza". But it was just exotic enough to send a 13 year old boy into gastronomic peals of delight. It was my new mistress. Overnight, it replaced everything that was sacred to me; peanut butter and graham crackers (I gave up the banana thing when my age was still in single digits), Hostess Twinkies and its equaly talented brother the cupcake, (Hostess later retaliated and won be back with Ho Ho's) and a host of other, forgetable treats that were a poor second to Pizza Spins.
Later, I was to break another leg (clumsy child) and off I went to spend many weeks in the hospital (they didn't cut you loose so quickly back then). My saving grace? My dad continued his tradition of bringing me Pizza Spins, which by now, was comforting reminder of home. Sometimes he couldn't find a box of Spins, but he didn't want to visit me empty handed, so he would bring some nabs, or Oreos or plain peanuts. O' what a sullen, sullen child I would become. You'd think he had sold off the family dog the way I carried on. It was like thinking you were to receive Crystal Champaigne, but instead was served Mad Dog 20-20.
Alas, all good things must come to an end, and it was the same for Pizza Spins. I grew older, developed tastes for other products, and one day, I couldn't find them anymore. Just as quickly as they entered my life, they were gone. It was a shock to learn that they ceased to exist. Just like a good relationship, I started taking them for granted and then it was over.
Since then, I flash back on their memory and always wondered why they aren't being made any more. Like a past lover's eyes or the smell of their perfume, I try to remember exactly how they tasted and I can still get a rush with that memory. You can bet that if General Mills ever decides to have another go at it, I will be the first in line to buy my case(s) of Pizza Spins, the world's best snack food.