A Taco Flavored Homecoming
And I should know. Twenty-five years ago, my right hand practically lived inside one of these. After school. On the couch. Inspector Gadget on the television set. Cumin powder encrusting my fingertips. And the remote control buttons.
So when I saw this, I felt like I was, well, coming home. Of course I had to buy a bag right then and there. Never mind the fact that I haven’t bought a bag of these since 2002. Never mind the trans fat. Never mind that I’m at a Home Depot. Excuse me, ma’am? Yes, I’ll just take this bathroom light fixture, a garden hose and a bag of Taco Flavor Doritos. You had me at flashback.
I am absolutely in love with the primitive clip art design work of a sombrero that really isn’t a sombrero at all so much as a hat that might’ve been stolen off the head of Curious George’s person. Then it’s overlaid with the simple words “taco flavor”. No need to explain yourselves here, Frito Lay. We know what a taco is. We know what it tastes like. We know it tastes nothing like these chips. And we’re fine with that. All the more happy in fact.
And certainly no need for a snazzy, cellophane window to give me a sneak-peek at my chips. No, I’ll take your word, Frito Lay – there are chips inside here. That yellow-tinged photograph taken with a 1978 Polaroid camera tells me everything I need to know.
Although, I could find a bit of room for improvement here. If these chips were, say, pictured spilling out of my mom’s white Corningware bowl with the blue cornflower emblem that happened to be sitting on a cream-colored roll-away couch (that my grandma called a davenport) with wooden birds in flight hanging on the wall behind the couch? That would’ve pushed it right over the top for me. Yeah, that’s when I would’ve put down the light fixture and the garden hose and said, I don’t think I have room in my Accord for all of this. No, I’ll just take a couple crates of the Taco Flavor Doritos. Can I get carryout assistance?