Keep Your Cracker Jack.

Candy-coated popcorn, peanuts and prize. That’s what you get if you travel in time to the 1950’s and snag a box of Cracker Jack©. Not much in the way of peanuts these past couple of decades. And what prize? A lick-on tattoo? Used to be decoder rings and other useful items.

Kids today don’t have it very good. In my day we were spoiled. Taken to every circus. Driven everywhere we wanted to go. Now kids have to sign up six months in advance for a “Drive Me to the Mall Adventure Club” sponsored by the goose-steppers at the school district. If a kid wants to bounce a ball he’s got to try our for the ball-bouncing team. And if he’s lucky enough to score a box of Cracker Jack© — instead of hummock-flavor Sun Chips©, or something — then all he gets is a printed “prize.” Not even made out of plastic. Poor kids. No wonder they kill.