the smedley log - suburban scrawl

Blue Chippers

Friedman points out the market dominance of both Herr’s and Utz in the Philly and Baltimore/Washington salty snack markets (respectively).

Having grown up in this area, I’ve become accustomed to forgetting that both Herr’s and Utz are regional brands. I tend to prefer either of them over Frito-Lay, and I don’t think it has much to do with them being more local to me.

I do fondly recall the Utz billboard campaign, now that I think of it, where the text would mention other U.S. cities, like the old New Orleans one: “New Orleans—dorky masks, no Utz.” And there were others to rub in the chip inferiority complex for people from other metropolitan areas far from Southeastern Pennsylvania.

Ever have Middleswarth chips?

Don’t think so—tell me more. Are they from the Lancaster area?

In my humble opinion, the very best chips are Martin’s Chips from Thomasville PA, just west of York. Their kettle cooked chips are delish and the BBQ chips are also damn tasty. Call me a homer, but I’m pretty confident that Southeastern and Central PA have the best potato chips in the world.

Agreed on that last point, though there are so many superior chips to be found, I have a hard time choosing between them. I’ll settle for calling the state of Pennsylvania the Chip Capital of the Free World.

I always liked the ad campaign for Herr’s with Eric Snow when he was still a Sixer. Something about he “guards great taste.” Hah.

Don’t forget the regional dominance of Tastykakes.

I remember the ad campaign.

And how could one forget the Tastykake? Truly superior source for a sugar overdose…

Someday… I want to write a book about a young man who grows up “close to home”, lives in a “narrow” world as it were, and always thinks the stuff he’s familiar with is the best. My home town is best because… My home church is best because… My girlfriend is best because… &c. &c. &c. Not a jerk about it, not a bigoted yocal… just more of a quiet confidence in and about what is true, beautiful, and virtuous.

And then by some circumstance, perhaps pursuant to a PhD in philosophy (or economics) in the Big Liberating City, the young man comes to find out that all the stuff he thought was best (true, beautiful, and virtuous) turns out really to be not so great. Everyone’s got their particular parochial views, and no one’s is any better than anyone else’s. And the knowledge destroys him (in some TBD way). The End. And the reader is left with a desperate feeling that our hero, and (by implication) the world, would’ve been a whole lot better off being spared, completely aside from the question of whether it is “true”, this useless, corrupting, and deadly knowledge.

All that from a post on locally made potato chips… No extra charge!