Wrigley's 5: Upscale gum for almost upscale people

BYN ridiculous products wire



Here's the claim on "5", the newest gum from Wrigley:

The Wm. Wrigley Jr. Company (NYSE: WWY) will introduce to U.S. consumers this summer, 5, a groundbreaking, new sugar-free stick gum with mouth-freshening, long-lasting flavors combined with invigorating sensations "you can feel as you chew."

This is a bunch of crap, but that doesn't mean the gum isn't interesting. In fact, it may be the most interesting gum ever, right up to the point where you start chewing.

Let me explain: The peppermint flavor called "Cobalt" tastes just like Winterfresh. In a blind taste test, I'm not sure I'd know the difference.

The claim is that Cobalt is a "cooling peppermint." If I really really try hard, I might be able to imagine that this more cooling than Winterfresh. Still, it's nowhere near as cooling as Wrigley's far superior Eclipse gum.

So I'm pretty sure 'intense sensations' are not the point.

The only other purpose of this flavor might be to last a long time, which I guess would be Wrigley's answer to Stride. Stride's flavor is extremely weak. Stride's flavor pretty much sucks. But the sucky, weak flavor manages to last an extraordinarily long time. So long, the commercials say, that the long-lastingness of the flavor is putting the company out of business.

But I'm pretty sure 5 isn't trying to be a Stride clone.



Wrigley's says:

"Teens, who are constantly seeking opportunities to experience something out of the ordinary, are also the most frequent gum chewers of any age group and account for one-third of all gum chewed in the U.S.," said Martin Schlatter, Wrigley's Chief Marketing Officer. "In our testing, teens and young adults have told us they love everything about 5 - from the unique tingling, cooling or warming sensations that accompany its delicious and especially long-lasting flavors to its bold graphics to its sleek, revolutionary packaging. 5 delivers an amazing new gum experience."

Ignore the B.S. 'flavors' and 'sensations,' and you'll see the real genius of this product. Bold graphics. Sleek, revolutionary packaging.

Here's what it looks like when you open a pack:


Imagine that tab sliding sleekly from its slot and lifting as gracefully as a Motorola RAZR to reveal 15 sticks of gum, all luxuriously wrapped in striking blue foil. This is the sexiest gum ever.

Every part of the packaging experience - from pulling the black box out of a jacket pocket to thrusting the tab back into its slot and putting the box away - drips with class. This box is upscale, these wrappers are pimp and the gum itself is an afterthought.

You're probably thinking this idea is ridiculous and nobody will buy it. "Packaging does not a great gum make," you say to yourself in the voice of Yoda. But I'm here to tell you that it's a great idea and that it's going to sell a whole bunch of gum, even at a MSRP of $1.49 a pack. Here's why:


Let's say you're spending a weekend in Vegas with a small group of friends, and you've had ridiculous luck. Your winnings are in the thousands, and you just can't stop raking in money at the blackjack tables.

You're a little drunk and feeling saucy, so you cash in your chips, mosey into the casino's shops and walk out in a brand new Armani suit. You know it's cliché, but you've always wanted one and now you can afford it. You also pick up some expensive cigars for you and your buddies.

So you make like all guys in Vegas and smoke expensive cigars in front of the Bellagio fountain. You drop some quotes from "Swingers." You're deeply moved by the transcendental Vegasness of it all, but at the same time you're itching to get back to the tables.

So you take a limo to the Palms, where you and your buddies belly up to a high-stakes blackjack table and start placing bets in the hundreds. The dealer keeps busting. This is unbelievable.

Finally, the pit boss comes over and offers you all VIP passes to the club at the top of the hotel. Feeling like you've played enough, you take him up on his offer.

Up in the club, you insist on drinking the bar's most pretentious single-malt Scotch. In the VIP area, you can actually talk over the music, and the girl who starts talking to you is insanely gorgeous. Your buddy recognizes her as a Playboy Playmate, and he tells you this discreetly.

Everything you've got going on impresses her. She loves the suit, loves the Scotch you're drinking, even seems intrigued when you tell her about your job as a Hollywood producer. You are not a Hollywood producer.


You're just about to make a move when you notice that cigar taste lingering in the back of your mouth, sticking to the gums behind your molars. Before long, it's all you can think about, and you know that if you go in for a kiss, this cigar aftertaste will ruin it.

So you pull out your trusty pack of Winterfresh, and you can see in her beautiful blonde eyes that your illusion is crumbling. No single-malt Armani VIP limousine producer would chew from a beat-up pack of Winterfresh. Your middle-class roots are showing. It's over.

But let's rewind and say you were savvy enough to pack some 5 Cobalt instead. She sees the black box, and she's hooked. In her mind it all adds up to the real deal: the swagger, the drink, the suit, the club, the ride and the gum. Doesn't matter if it tastes the same as Winterfresh; she wants a piece. And I'm not just talking about the gum here.

And that's why Wrigley's 5 will be a hit. Because once you've experienced the cutting edge of packaging, you will realize that chewing this gum is the only imaginable way that you will ever hook up with a Playboy Playmate.

I'm bringing Nasty back ...

toothpastefordinner.com

Bah-ney! My Leinenkugel's!

Ah, the dog days of summer. There's nothing better on a muggy Midwest afternoon than kicking back in your plastic Adirondack chair with a frosty bottle of fresh wheat beer, maybe with a subtle hint of citrus mixed in.

We've been a fan of Sam Adams Summer Ale for a long time, but this year we thought we'd mix things up and grab a sixer of Leinenkugel's Sunset Wheat.

And sure enough, we've still got a few bottles left chilling in the Big Yellow Nasty. Not to say that it's a bad beer, it's just - well - unique.

Here's how they describe it:

If you've ever experienced a Northwoods sunset, you know it's a moment unlike any other. So instead of putting it into words, we captured the Northwoods' finest moment in every batch of our all-new Leinenkugel's Sunset Wheat. Brewed with malted wheat, Cluster hops and natural coriander, Sunset Wheat has a soothing taste that will leave you speechless. It's like your very own sunset in a bottle.

A description worthy of J. Peterman, to be sure, yet we may have described it differently:

If you've ever experienced a sugar rush during Saturday morning cartoons, you know it's a moment unlike any other. So instead of putting it into words, we've captured Post's finest cereal in every batch of our all-new Leinenkugel's Sunset Wheat. Packed with 25 percent of your recommended daily allowance of riboflavin and as much fiber as Cheerios, Fruity Pebbles has a soothing taste that will leave you saying "Yabba Dabba Doo!" until your little buddy tries to steal your bowl. Sunset Wheat is like Fruity Pebbles in a bottle.

Yes, while Fruity Pebbles is a flavor that may seem inappropriate for a premium beer, we can't help feeling nostalgic as every sip brings us to the days of seeing this commercial like five times an hour:



It's a refreshing beer for a bottle or two, but after a while the overwhelming sweetness serves as a nagging reminder that even your best friends will sell you out eventually. Sometimes it's about money. Sometimes a girl. But usually, it's cereal. Did Fred and Barney ever get along?



What happened? The Fruity Pebbles got fruiter. The Cocoa Pebbles more chocolatey. And somehow - and we're not kidding - the cereal got as much fiber as Cheerios. Managing your cholesterol is important, especially when your diet consists mainly of brontosaurus ribs.

Alas, the two once-inseparable pals may never cease their breakfast bickering.

Those sweet, sticky summer days turn brisk now as the leaves become raspberry red, orangey orange and lemony yellow (yeah, we know that's Trix; Pebbles is more of a multi-colored ambiguously fruity mush). Gone with the Indian summer, Leinenkugel's Sunset Wheat has faded from the store shelves, replaced with darker ales to celebrate Oktoberfest.

And later, when the snow falls, we hope we may open the cooler and find another straggling bottle of Sunset Wheat. Perhaps we'll find it in our hearts to share it with a good friend.