Retro Ads #1: The Adventures of Sugar Bear (a.k.a. Cereal Mascot Comic)

Here we join Sugar Bear circa 1988 enjoying his favorite food, dry Super Golden Crisp cereal. You really have to wonder how a bear introduces cereal into his diet. Also, where'd he get that shirt?

Sugar Bear's good time is interrupted by bees with low self esteem and blood sugar. Look at those guys! They're automatically recognizable as villains 'cause it looks like they're wearing bandannas and striped shirts. This is also how cops find criminals in the real world.

That smooth mother fucker, Sugar Bear, ain't got time for nonsense. He catches them with a "vitamin packed punch" and throws them ass first at a tree.

Damn bees got humiliated.

Sugar, Toys and... milk.

Remember when it was mandatory for any cereal targeted at children to have a mascot? This trend started long before the golden year of my birth, 1982, but hit full stride in my lifetime. I couldn't watch Saturday morning or weekday afternoon cartoons without an all-out marketing assault designed for my wide-eyed, ready-to-consume younger self.

The people doing these commercials were very smart. They knew exactly what these 30 second cartoons would cause: me harassing my parents the next time we went to the grocery store. And, God love them, my parents typically indulged me.

This is as good a time as any to say I was such a little bastard. When we went to the grocery store, I either made straight for the cereal aisle or hounded my parents to hurry up with this "real" food mess and get there. To hell with the rest of the store, this was my mecca! Jesus had nothing on Sugar Bear, Cap'n Crunch, the Trix rabbit, Toucan Sam, Sonny, Dig 'em and Lucky. I'd instinctively seek out the boxes with one of my seven sugary heroes on them and then...

Well, I'd have to pick out the one with the coolest toy in it, of course. This was the rule by which all my cereal-buying stuck. It would even cause me to go outside of my normal brands and try something new (which I would typically waste because my cultured and superior palate would reject it for being inferior fluff).

I'd run the length of the aisle multiple times while my parents waited, sometimes patiently/sometimes not, for me to make up my mind. I've always been somewhat indecisive, especially later in life, and I think this is where it all started. Although, once the Ninja Turtles got their own cereal, there was no choice whatsoever. There would be hell to pay if my green mutant friends with their Chex/Lucky Charms amalgamation didn't return from the grocery store. Hell!

I started noticing sometime in the early-2000's that cereal mascots slowly began fading from TV. I recently looked into it more and it's my understanding that, in today's health-conscience society, parents don't want these companies marketing what is essentially sugar in a spoon to their children. This has caused a major reduction in these types of ads. Sure, you can still see a few here and there, but nothing like the saturation of yesteryear. As a health-conscience person, I understand this line of thinking, but am a bit sad to see it go. There was a certain amount of charm and appeal in the characters and they stand as symbols of a more carefree time in my life. Also, I was an idiot kid that let cartoon birds, rabbits and bears sell me cereal. GOD!

I think I still have my most-beloved cereal prizes tucked away in a plastic bin at my mom's house. Maybe someday I'll pull them out and post pics here (because why not?).

A funny thing happened in the toy aisle...

I'm fast approaching 30. It's on the horizon. September, in fact.

It's a number. That's all it is for me. I won't start wearing Depends when I hit that number (unless I get into some kinky shit that I can't fathom right now) or suddenly wear a suit and tie everyday and carry a briefcase. It just won't happen. My brain won't let it.

Confession: I'm nostalgic. No, really, horribly nostalgic. I live, eat, sleep and breathe stuff from years gone by and, apparently, I'm not the only one.

 I think companies know this about people like me from my generation because for the past decade I've seen pretty much everything I used to love resurrected in some form or fashion.

The Transformers have been back in full force, albeit with mixed responses, since Michael Bay's first movie in 2007 where a bunch of metal pieces fought each other, Shia Lebouf did some shouting and Megan Fox did some... well, she did something. The Thundercats made their way back with a cartoon last year and He-Man made an even earlier comeback in 2003. One of my other favorites, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, of which my younger self was absolutely obsessed, have been on and off television and the big screen ever since their original show ended. They've been published in comics as well, so I never felt the were out of reach.

But still, anytime I hear of a TMNT revival my heart skips a beat. I'm instantly transported to Birthdays or Christmases of the late 1980's and early 1990's where my presents were pretty much all green and had the word "Cowabunga" on them.

Full disclosure: When it came to toys I was spoiled kid. I know it. I admit it. I was fortunate and I'm not bragging (it didn't necessarily contribute in positive ways later in life). If it was an action figure, I usually got it. My parents weren't rich by any means. No, I'd say we were lower middle class all the way, but I was an only child and they were eager to please (or just shut me the hell up). They were good, however, about making sure I didn't overextend myself. They drew a line and wouldn't let me collect too many different sets of toys at the same time. I honestly don't know how they did it, but I'm extremely thankful for it. I didn't have any siblings, so make-believe was up to me and my action figures.

Anyway, it's that time again: TMNT are back on the shelves. I'd heard the rumblings for the past six months or so ('cause, damn it, I keep up with this shit! It's important!), so I've been creeping through the toy aisle at Wal-Mart for a while. If you ask my wife, I never stop creeping through that aisle.

Today? Today, my friends, the eight-year-old inside me (insert pedophilia joke here) got the semi-long-awaited reward he'd been wanting:

That's right, I got Raphael (my favorite turtle, thanks). Yeah, I'm pretty badass for buying this, I know, considering I don't have children and, ahem, WILL BE 30 NEXT MONTH!

What's that? Another photo? Sure!

Look, I make no bones about it: I'm a big kid. I don't exactly play with this stuff, I put it up in my "Nerd Cave", but in my mind I might as well be having the epic action figure battles I staged as a kid. I don't care what anyone says or thinks. If you get too old to enjoy things, even small ridiculous things, then you might as well pack it up and get the coffin ready.

Me, though... I'll probably buy Raphael when he's re-re-re-re-released when I'm in my 80's.