The Drink Knight: The Saga of Super Grover and Gatorade

By Andrew Blumetti

“I am whatever Sesame needs me to be.”

 

Ringo Starr…

Judy Winslow…

The guys in Aerosmith who aren’t Steven Tyler or Joe Perry…

Sometimes you’re just that guy.

There’s a street, and while the name screams out a magical land of bagel toppings, it’s actually a place where jovial fur-covered monsters teach us our ABC’s, our 123’s, and the importance of sharing a bathtub with just that special rubber ducky.

♪  Can you tell me how to get… how to get to Sesame Street?  ♪

Practice, practice, practice, and stick your hand up a puppet’s keister. 

Too bad there’s only so many colors in the rainbow, because if you reside at 123 in the brownstone-laden land of Sesame Street, and you’re the blue monster who’s not Cookie Monster, then you’re that guy.  And your name is Grover.

“What does ‘nom-nom’ even mean?!?”

I Got the Sesame Street Blues

While loveable and time-tested, being the second most popular blue Muppet means naturally, you’re gonna lash out to be noticed.   So, when everyone and their grandmother is waxing poetic over that gravel-voiced, pre-diabetic Oreo-muncher, you spill some soup, toss out contractions completely from your vocabulary, pop on a cape, and hurl yourself out the window, cause you’re the redheaded blueheaded stepchild, and you’re getting some attention, come cookies or high water.

Enter, SUPER GROVER

He’s loveable, he means well, and he crashes more often than the Obamacare website.   Heck, he even took time out of his busy schedule to protect our Thanksgiving from evil tryptophan and blowout Detroit Lions games.

Soaring like an eagle, Super Grover protects the skies of Gotham… on Turkey Day.

And if by this point something just looks slightly familiar about Super Grover, replenish those lost electrolytes and take a gander at this, gander-takers…

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There’s a storm a-brewin’ and the forecast calls for a 100% chance of lightning bolts.  They’re flashing all over Sesame Street and they’re leaving huge smoking craters all over the football field.  This is a chicken-and-egg situation so gigantic, it’s like Big Bird squated his feathery-yellow self down and popped out a massive omelette right in front of us.

“Snuffy, breakfast is on me today!”

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Be Like Mike

Simple answer to this origin… history lesson!   But unfortunately, this thirst-quenching quest isn’t really that cut and dry…

Gatorade, America’s most popular sports drink, founded on the campus of The University of Florida in 1965, and currently owned by PepsiCo., has incorporated the lightning bolt into it’s advertising since 1970.   Despite that, with a number of logo redesigns, it wasn’t until 2009 that the current “G-Series” logo was introduced with the bolt included.

Super Grover, the alter-ego of the Sesame Street character was introduced in the 1970’s, and used the “G” logo similar to the Gatorade font for decades, but it wasn’t until a 2010 re-branding that a lightning bolt was added to his costume.

So, while Gatorade was the first to use the lightning bolt, at the same time, Sesame Street can lay claim to the “G”.  All of this nonsensical circular research is really enough to make you feel winded and sweaty.

“After all of this flying, I am going to need many sips of Riptide Rush to feel quenched!”

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Lemon Lime or Lemon LIES?!?

So, if no one can officially produce concrete proof of placing their flag into the soil, it sunk in… maybe this is some kind of clever tie-in?  Maybe coincidences are for squares… Cahoots!  Cahoots I say!

After contacting both parties involved, here’s what I received back:

OFFICIAL STANCE FROM GATORADE/PEPSI CO.:

Andrew:

Thanks for writing to us. While I can’t comment on other consumer feedback, I can tell you that there is no official tie in between Gatorade and Super Grover.

I hope this helps.

Jenny
Gatorade Consumer Relations
A Division of PepsiCo

(sent on January 5, 2014)

OFFICIAL STANCE FROM SESAME STREET/THE JIM HENSON COMPANY:

No reply.   (as of January 10, 2014)

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Well, crap.

“All of this reading and things are still fishy!”

So, all that work, and where does that bring us?

Gatorade can weave a clever yarn, but it’s impossible to overlook these little coincidences…

• As recently as 2011, Sesame Place ran an on-can promotion with Pepsi, Gatorade’s parent company…

Well, I guess there has to be some kind of reward for suffering through a can of Diet Pepsi…

• Sesame Street characters, Elmo and Abby Cadabby appeared in a segment with Los Angeles Laker, Kobe Bryant, who has appeared in Gatorade commercials as recently as last year…

“Elmo help fix Kobe’s broken knee!”

• Last year, Diet Pepsi used actress Sofia Vergara in a campaign.  Sofia Vergara is essentially evolving into a giant, jiggly, impossible-to-understand, cartoonish Colombian Muppet as each day passes. 

“I love PEEEEEPSI, and being on SEEEEEESSSSAME STEEEEEET.”

 

With Sesame’s tight-lipped stance, perhaps we’ll never know if this sports beverage and this puppet superhero are in bed together.  Despite what Gatorade’s official statement is, like it or lump it, kids plopped in front of the tellie will know that lightning bolt, and when they cramp up on the soccer field this spring, we all know what beverage they’ll be handed first.   To quote Ned Flanders, while this remains foggy, I’ll remain a bit of a “Suspocious Aloysius”.

In a year’s time, when we’re treated to “Grover Grape” flavor Gatorade, we’ll all know where that marriage began.

Looks like Oscar’s flavor is still not confirmed yet.

Tricks and Treats and Booklets of Satanists Sacrificing Cats… Oh the Things You’ll Get on Halloween Night.

By Andrew Blumetti

Yes, that classic old story again.

So, it’s November (or as I call it, “Not October”) and alas, Halloween is sadly over.

Back when he donned the eclipse-causing high hair and rat’s-nest-mullet like a first-rate 80’s champ, Jon Bon Jovi may have semi-eloquently declared, “Never say goodbye.”, but Jon, you schmaltzy-optomistic nut, the calendar says we have to.

Oh, don’t worry Bon Jovi, I’m just TEASING you…

Don’t get me wrong, Christmastime has this indescribable feel of childlike wonderment, whimsy, and snow-filled magic, and I cannot wait for the smell of freshly cut evergreens, peppermint and Nat King Cole’s gravely pipes belting out beloved yuletide carols while I spend 45-minutes searching for a parking spot outside Best Buy just to have to deal with the brainless derelicts inside.   Nonetheless, Halloween still holds a special place in my heart which is difficult to recreate no matter how many times I watch Rudolph gleefully reach for the heavens after dreamy doe, Clarice, says that she thinks he’s cute.

I love working on my lawn display, frequenting crowded haunted houses with fellow-ghoul lovin’ friends, and browsing Halloween stores complete with massive lines of shoppers snaking out the door.  And even though the 160+ candy-hungry trick-or-treaters didn’t leave me with an ounce of sugary junk to snack on, it was still a blast and a half.

…but much like that rascally ragamuffin Gary Coleman taught us—  different folks, different strokes…

“What’chu talkin’ ’bout Blumes?”

History Time:

My neighborhood, a small and quiet tree-filled suburb in Northern New Jersey is a safe and delightfully boring little town that has not just one, but two CVS’s and now two 7-11’s.  I’ve had the same neighbors since I can remember, the parking is ample, the lawns are lush and green in the summertime, and everywhere you look, a playful bunny is hopping around freshly-planted vegetable gardens like a delightful children’s book with a well-worn spine.

With a few exceptions, we’ve had very little changeover in the neighbor roll-call over the years–  most of the families are longtime residents who’ve now had their children grow up here and start adorable families of their own.

And I suppose with that kind of boring consistency, you don’t really get around to greeting the new folks as fast as you should when they actually do move in.

Mr. Rogers would be so disappointed in me.  That’s not very neighborly after all. You should really take a few minutes to welcome your neighbor, because who knows?  They could be Kate Upton, they could be your new best friend, or maybe, just maybe, you may want to keep an eye on them cause they could be just a bit odd.

But hey, who amongst us isn’t a little bit?

“Sorry Blumes, maybe next time.”

Well, that fickle little needle on the odd scale went from “a bit” to “Holy crow, it’s Christopher Walken after a dozen Mountain Dews” this past Thursday, October 31st.

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It was an unseasonably mild and relatively overcast Halloween afternoon. The breeze was nearly non-existent, and the weak late-October sun had given the ‘ol college try attempting to dry up the shallow puddles of collected rain that had fallen earlier in the morning.  After the schools were dismissed, my nephew and niece were in the area to do some trick-or-treating with my family to the local neighbors’ houses while I manned the door at home.  As it usually goes with the kiddies, excited spirits and happy feet soon turned to exhausted spirits and fatigued feet, as the joy of a spooktastic day soon began to show its age.  They returned home, and being the generous and giving uncle I am, I volunteered to help “sort out the candy”, which in layman’s terms, means “vulture-pick the kids’ freshly-earned candy stash”.

After laying down some immediate damage to a bag of Reese’s Pieces, I looked down, where amongst the crinkly piles of Butterfinger and gummy bear wrappers, we saw this staring back at us…

Holy moly on toast with jelly, what is this we have here?

My taste buds did a backflip cause- hey, isn’t that one of those Wendy’s coupon books for ten free Frosty ice cream treats?  Oh glorious day!

But no, this find should not be so sweet.

One peek inside, and we were greeting with lecturing, the cornerstone of any fun-filled Halloween.  Which is kind of an odd choice, considering we decided to give out Cheetos, M&M’s and Swedish Fish.

Now, for the record, I don’t have any problem with any kind of religion whatsoever.  My family is Catholic, and whatever floats your boat is cool with me.  I couldn’t care less if someone’s Christian, Jewish, Muslim, or if they pray to photos of Sofia Vergara’s bowling ball-shaped kid from Modern Family.

“BLOOOOMS, don’t you make the jokes on your BLOGGG about HEEEMM!”

All sensitivity aside, and with that being said, this beaut was too unsettling and gaul-darn hilarious to not share with the world, cause man alive, we apparently have some new neighbors who are borderline bananas, B-A-N-A-N-A-S.

This is still better than finding Mary Janes in your bag though…

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You may come home, tired from a long night of trick-or-treating, dump out that heavy bag full of sugary candy on the floor and count seven Milky Ways, five Snickers bars and a couple of Dubble Bubbles, but really, how many preachy books of cats about to be sliced up on a pentagrammed-alter do you have?

Not enough, right?

Now I know why there’s no cats around the neighborhood.  …and less cats means more mice… which means LESS CHEESE!!!!   Now they’ve gone too far…

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Twick or tweet! (apparently Satan is on Twitter now)

Just remember, Halloween’s no joke kids.

…except for this one:

-Why did the ghost go to the bar?

For the “boos”.

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Common sense would tell you, being the devil, you wouldn’t need a scary costume, cause ya know, you’re the evilest thing in existence, and the culmination of all the world’s hatred, malevolence, and terror.  Heck, people shell out a pretty penny just to dress like you on Halloween.

…but hey, that Party City coupon for that killer spooky pumpkin costume was just too good to resist.

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Bad news:  Human sacrifices will increase, so you’ll most likely be hacked to bits by guys in scratchy-looking cloaks who moonlight as roadies for Zakk Wylde.

Good news:  You won’t have to sit through another season of The Neighbors.

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Did you know?:  Witchcraft is “exploding” among teens today?  Looks like Bieber Fever is quickly being replaced with “witch itch”.

Blumes note:  Don’t mind that sour drawing of John Favreau.   He’s just bummed cause he blew a first-round pick on Ray Rice for his fantasy football team this year.

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Oh Satan you soulpatched-silly goose, the last time I trusted you, you pranked me by unscrewing the cap on the salt shaker.

Ruined my dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets…

More like TERROR-dactyl!