We're still talking about Fresca

What better way to close out the holiday weekend than with a viewing of this groovy vintage Fresca commercial? Pop open a frosty can and enjoy!

How About A Fresca?

Mexican Fresca (above) apparently contains sugar
An ad from 1980. I drank a whole lot of those.
Today's ugly can

We're currently in the midst of Fresca season, which, as I define it, begins April 1 and ends October 1, roughly coinciding with baseball season (although I do not watch baseball). There are those who drink this sparkling grapefruit deliciousness year round; I do not condone such immoderate behavior. Fresca is a warm weather beverage. To all things a season.

I have tried to keep my Fresca consumption to one can a day ever since I noticed that it contains Ester of Wood Rosin (hello FDA, is that even edible?). The manufacturer now calls the ingredient Glycerol Ester of Rosin; maybe that seems a little less like something you wax your car with?

No matter, this soda is seriously delicious, and when the weather goes over 85 I have been known to pound Fresca. Fresca mixed with Vodka is a pure slice of heaven, although I don't really drink the hard stuff very often anymore. It might be a little worrisome if I was sucking cocktails down while watching Gavin & Stacey in my pjs.

I should note that Fresca is a diet beverage, and though I am against diet beverages, and diets in general (they don't work, they screw up your metabolism, they cause eating disorders and they are a buzzkill), I am for Fresca. On Monday my French teacher was railing (in French) about sugar-free sweeteners. Blah, blah, blah. I realize that they are bad for you, but I have never smoked, I don't do drugs, and I don't eat red meat. All of my vices are related to beverages, and I think I am entitled to my 2 cups of coffee in the morning, my lunch time Fresca, my afternoon tea, and a moderate consumption of wine with dinner. Anyway, the company did try introducing a sugared version of Fresca (called Citra) when I was at Jane, so that was sometime in the late 90's. This was because Mexicans living in the states wanted a Fresca like the sugary kind they get back home, but it didn't sell and instead there's a sugared grapefruit soda in the Fanta line. I don't care; just give me my Fresca.

I am a diehard fan, and so I have some issues. Before I tell you about them, just know that this vintage sign is awesome. I'm not too technical, and it isn't falling really where I want it in the post, and neither are the cans, but you do the best you can. Now, the current can design: Could it be any uglier? Fresca had a classy look when it was introduced in 1963. (I was 2 then, and to my knowledge, my mother did not give me Fresca at that age, though she thought nothing of putting milky Irish tea in my baby bottle and feeding it to me with a Parliament in her hand. That may explain a lot. Like my propensity for long parentheticals.) While I am at it, what's up with the other flavors of Fresca. Peach? Who green lighted that brilliant decision? For the love of God, stick to the grapefruit.

Anyway. I probably shouldn't be complaining because my dream is to have Fresca as the sole sponsor for Fallen Princess. Does anyone know their media planner?

Please Read

My story for TheGloss on Willie Mae Rock Camp's Ladies Weekend just went up here. Please read it, like I said in the headline.

Princess of the Day: Kim Cattrall

The 53-year-old Sex and the City 2 star refused to pose with a cougar for the cover of a magazine aimed at older women, and then the magazine took the cover away from her. "I felt it was derogatory," she said. "There is nothing predatory about a woman of a certain age. When I go out, younger men are after me."

Tell it, Kim. I've always hated that label.

Yes, my husband is 9 1/2 years younger than me.

Demented Product of the Day: Denim Diapers

La, La, La, La, La, I Can't Hear You!

That's me to all the reviewers who don't like the new Sex and the City movie. I'm going anyway! With my friend Sharon. You can't stop me.

Science Times Scares the Bejesus out of Montclair Mom

The science section of the NY Times frightened me half to death this morning with this story about a 23-month-old who had choked to death on popcorn, even with her CPR trained Marine father sitting right next to her. I just started giving my children (ages 7 and 9) popcorn this year, but I might take it back now.

I am the most hypervigilant mom in the world when it comes to safety. At parties where children run wild while the adults chat around the chips and salsa, I am the only parent watching the kids. No, you cannot throw soccer balls at people's heads, and please don't all 15 of you stand in the play structure pushing. I can't help imagining a heap of little broken bodies.

Yet my children's three emergency room injuries all happened on my watch. My son broke a wrist while running down the front steps in 1st grade; the following year he tripped over a tree root in our yard and got a piece of wood lodged in his knee.

My daughter's injury was the worst of all. Our house was built in 1897, so the steam pipes are outside the walls. One early morning, when she was a toddler, very soon after I impulsively quit my job at ym (I can be an Irish hot head), I was foggily making coffee while she played behind me. In a split second I heard a scream. Her hand had gotten stuck between the pipe and the wall. I grabbed her, and ran the hand under cold water. She cried a cry I had never heard before. I saw the skin peel right off her hand. My baby now has a scar from her wrist to her thumb. And to me it is a symbol of my failed parenting.