Monday, April 27, 2009
So deserves repeating ...
From April of last year ...
We'll get a slawburger, fries and a bottle of Ski
Bring it on out to my baby and me
-- "Dumas Walker," The Kentucky Headhunters
When I was a young'un, my dad worked at the Tennessee Farmer's Co-op in Lavergne, TN. There was a little market next to his office that always had a big "barrel" of Double Cola - in glass bottles, of course - chilling on ice. Whenever I went to his office, he'd always take me into the market for a Double Cola and some chips or something.
I remember one day I peered over into the iced-down Double Colas and spied something in a green bottle, something called Ski. It kinda looked like Sun-Drop, which my grandparents always had on hand, so I decided to give it a try. It was sweet and tangy, but I quickly noticed that it wasn't quite as carbonated as the soda pops I was accustomed to drinking. Thus, I didn't particularly care for it.
A few years later when I was playing Little League baseball, one of my teammate's parents would bring a big cooler of cold drinks for after-practice refreshment. What did they always bring in their big cooler? Bottles of Ski and Sprite. I couldn't stand Sprite so I would drink the Ski. The more I drank it the more it grew on me. It didn't take long before I was asking my mom to pick it up at the grocery store (and since I was an only child, she usually obliged).
By the time I graduated from high school, Ski was getting harder and harder to find in Nashville-area markets and grocery stores. In the years that followed, I would find it from time to time in little markets when I was traveling 'round Tennessee - especially West Tennessee - on business. Eventually, I couldn't find it anywhere.
Imagine my surprise when I found Ski in a convenience store over the weekend ... about two miles from my house. I was toting beverages of a more adult nature toward the cashier when, out of the corner of my eye, I seen something that looked subspecialty like little bottles of Ski. I turned on my heel and returned to the soda pop cooler. Sure 'nough I had seen Ski! I probably had a smile on my face like I'd found a $100 bill.
I walked out of that store with four bottles of Ski and six bottles of ... well, that's not important. What is important is that the Ski I drank sitting in that convenience store parking lot tasted every bit as good as the ice-cold bottles I drank after baseball practice when I was 9-years-old.
Learn more about Ski here.