I never was much for Cracker Jacks. Maybe because it was marketed as the kind of thing adults thought kids should like. Or maybe that it seemed fossilized in another time even 40 years ago, though simply being old usually doesn’t put me off a thing. Mainly, though, it’s that molasses taste.

A box of Cracker Jacks made its way into the house recently. I think one of Ann’s friends brought it over. At least it still looks like a box of Cracker Jacks should, complete with mascot Sailor Jack and his dog Bingo. The candy is, of course, part of Chicago history, though it hasn’t been owned locally in quite a while, unlike that other Gilded Age favorite, the Tootsie Roll.

I didn’t eat any Cracker Jacks this time, but I did find the “prize.” An Arizona Diamondbacks sticker. I’ve read that there’s also some kind of code for some kind of app, but I couldn’t find that. Really, Frito-Lay? You can’t spring for two- or three-tenths of a cent for a little plastic toy made in Guangdong Province?