Current Photo Friday theme: Collection.
An Accidental Collection
Recently, I was thinking of things I’ve collected. Dolls, of course, particularly Barbies and their accessories, angels, pigs, wee plastic animals and cars, and apparently coloring books; most of these didn’t begin intentionally. I might like an item, buy another occasionally, and then friends and family will add to them with gifts. There are also things that ended up with me after divorces and deaths. I asked Photo Friday if “Collection” had been used as a challenge, and now this week, it has!
I didn’t set out to collect Coca-Cola items, though it’s a product instantly recognizable worldwide, and I’m indifferent to the value (or lack) of anything pictured. These items represent my personal history with four distinct families.
Included in this photo are two tins, one that looks like an old Coke vending machine; the other, a miniature suitcase. I have a lot of tins in general, partly because Lynne collects them and has given me several; because fun is one of the few things I’ll join; and because they can be useful for storing things.
As far as the bottles, the first (starting on the left) is a special issue for a family wedding, printed with the couple’s names and the date. Anyone can order personalized bottles from the company, but in this case, the groom was the son of a Coca-Cola executive. It was a perfect souvenir for wedding guests.
The next two bottles are part of Coke’s 75th anniversary collector edition. I once had six of them, in their little divided cardboard carrier. Though I sometimes tell a funny story about how that went from six to two, these two are a symbol to me of three generations of a fractured family who is a cherished part of my history.
Though the next 10-ounce bottle is a 1994 holiday greetings bottle, I likely saved it because it reminds me of the bottles of my childhood and of family stories. One involves a hospital stay for me when I was 3-4 years old. Per doctor’s orders: I got all the little bottles of Coke I wanted. (It sounds crazy, but there was a medical reason.) This bottle also reminds me of Saturdays with my father at the gas station. He’d buy two small Cokes and a single package of Tom’s or Lance peanuts, then split the peanuts between us by pouring them into our Cokes. I loved that mixture of salty and sweet, but I especially loved hanging out with him.
Next is a 1983 commemorative bottle celebrating Alabama Head Coach Paul “Bear” Bryant’s 315 wins; and a 1992 aluminum can celebrating a century of Crimson Tide football championship titles following the team’s formation in 1892. Alabama is my father’s alma mater, as well as my own, and both my first husband’s and Tom’s. But there are people from my family and Tom’s who attended Auburn, and this tray featuring Bama’s head coach Bear Bryant and Auburn’s head coach Ralph “Shug” Jordan commemorates the last Iron Bowl game Jordan would coach in this fierce rivalry on November 29, 1975, just before he retired.
Next, that’s a 16 oz double-insulated can, spill proof, with a screw-off top for filling with the beverage of your choice–though you’ll still be advertising Coke! Then a couple of red aluminum bottles (emtpy) because I like their classic look.
Finally, the last bottle is the one I’ve had the longest. From our earliest teens, Lynne (who shares her birth city with Coca-Cola’s) and I would carefully check the bottom of each of our Coke bottles to see what city and state it was from. There was a goal: that city of our music idols, that city where we set our first stories, that city we imagined we’d one day live in. She found her bottle first, and eventually, I found mine, too: LOS ANGELES CALIF the bottles are stamped. I don’t know if Lynne still has hers, but mine went with me through high school, college, and every home in Alabama and Texas afterward.
I love that I’ve visited L.A. Love that I’ve known people from there who patiently answered (and still do) my endless questions. Love that it still remains part of the stories I imagine. Love that my restless self eventually settled in a large city which shares a whole lot with Los Angeles: urban sprawl and seemingly endless miles of highways, a diverse population in every way, sports teams, an appreciation for the arts, and a WE WILL PREVAIL attitude.
Have a virtual Coke from me, L.A. I will always celebrate you.
Are these all somewhere after original but more safely before new and classic? I gave up Coca-Cola sometime after clear Pepsi which I thought was just like ordinary dark Pepsi and therefore now superior, not the clear Pepsi that suddenly must taste like 7-Up, because it’s clear, in much the same way American Cheese is the same regardless of food coloring added or not.
I moved on to more to root beer, cherry –bad me– any soda red 40 or orange colored orange hyperactivities ADHD, wwwwhheeeeee hahahahaha!!!!
Then came natural sodas and Orangina.
Now these days, I rarely touch sodas. If I want carbonated, I’d get soda water and add fruit juice, which is obscenely priced inside an Airport. I mainly drink plain iced tea with lemons.
Everything on there holds or held the original formula with the exception of the wedding bottle, the ’94 bottle, and the two red aluminum bottles, which are all “classic” formula. So-called “new”Coke is not something I care to recall, not only because it didn’t taste right, but they changed the formula during a string of events through some of the most traumatic months of my life. I try not to think of those months very often.
Coke is still my soft drink of choice, but not much or often. I also don’t drink the sweet tea Southerners of all ages drank with meals. I’m fairly rigorous about limiting my sugar intake, including artificial sweeteners.
Someone (with a tight blue bandage around his arm near the elbow) at a restaurant the other day had the french toast, the strawberries smothered in that really sugary red 40 syrupy stuff, and the whipped cream on top of all of that. He rejected the provided pancake artificial syrup in favor of the sugar free artificial syrup and added that to the concoction. He also probably chanted a few spells as he sprinkled powdered sugar on top. Instead of the expected Diet Coke (that magical sugar-debunking formula), it was iced tea without lemons. It must have been a tough morning.
Back in my day, we called it the co-ed pizza order: “extra large, deep dish, everything on it, extra sauce, extra cheese, and two Tabs.”
Oh, and P.S. They took checks then.
That’s about what my brother and the roommates would have, with 2l bottles of Dr. Pepper or Coke, during college projects.
Those two liter bottles were the devil. (I guess they probably still make them?)