The Retroist

In the early 1970s pizza was still a mostly local food in the United States, though national chains like Pizza Hut and Domino’s were beginning to expand. By the 1980s their reach was undeniable. In the New Jersey suburbs where I grew up, where pizza parlors were very common, new outlets for these chains started appearing. At first they were curiosities and then quickly became common alternatives to neighborhood pizzerias. The shift showed how quickly pizza had gone from local fare to a national business.

By 1985 Pizza Hut was the largest pizza chain in the country and one of the top quick service brands overall, trailing only McDonald’s but rivaling Burger King and KFC. After PepsiCo’s 1977 acquisition, Pizza Hut had surged past 3,200 stores and was driving strong profits. Domino’s was smaller but expanding at breakneck pace, adding 954 new locations in 1985 for a total of nearly 2,900 stores and more than a billion dollars in sales. Its thirty-minute delivery promise gave it an edge against Pizza Hut’s dine-in model. McDonald’s remained the giant of quick service, but the rise of pizza showed that burgers were no longer the only game in town.

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When McDonald’s tested pizza in the mid 1980s with the McPizza it confirmed that the category had grown too big to ignore. If McDonald’s saw potential, others would follow. For McDonald’s, pizza was both a new menu experiment and a defense against a rival category that was winning over families and group diners. Soon Taco Bell joined in, launching the Pizzazz Pizza in 1985. That move showed how quickly the pizza trend pulled in brands far outside the traditional slice business.

By the mid 1980s Taco Bell was thriving. Sales had jumped more than 30 percent in 1984, pushing close to a billion dollars in revenue, and the chain was adding hundreds of new stores each year under PepsiCo ownership. The company was also repositioning itself, moving beyond the niche of “Mexican fast food” to appeal to mainstream tastes. Not a chain that had landed in NJ at this point, I was still become very aware of Taco Bell from national advertising and word of mouth. Campaigns like “Make a Run for the Border” emphasized fun and accessibility, while menu items leaned on ingredients like beef, cheese, and tomatoes that overlapped with burgers and pizza. That overlap mattered, since it gave Taco Bell a path to appeal to customers who might never have sought out tacos on their own.

The Pizzazz Pizza fit that strategy. Instead of dough, the base was a fried flour tortilla already in daily use for tostadas and taco salads. Staff added beans, beef, tomato sauce, cheese, olives, green onions, and diced tomatoes, then finished it under a broiler. Ads promoted it as “cheesy like a pizza but really crisp and light.” The tortilla base made it distinct from traditional pizza while allowing Taco Bell to build the item with existing kitchen equipment. Unlike McDonald’s, which had to install new ovens for its McPizza test, Taco Bell kept costs low and service times fast by adapting what was already in place.

The PepsiCo connection gave the experiment another dimension. The company now owned both Pizza Hut and Taco Bell, but the two brands operated in very different ways. Pizza Hut relied on full kitchens, dough proofers, and dine-in service, while Taco Bell’s smaller stores could not support that model. The Pizzazz Pizza became a hybrid solution, borrowing the idea from Pizza Hut but executing it in a uniquely Taco Bell way.

Despite the careful planning, the product stumbled. Customers were unsure what to make of it. The fried tortilla gave it the look of pizza but not the taste or texture people expected. For Taco Bell regulars it felt out of place, more than a twist on tacos, but not quite its own category.

I want to take a moment to talk about the name itself. Pizzazz, which sounds a lot like pizza, it an actual word that can trace its origins back to 1937. It is most associated with show business and it means flair, vitality, or zest. It also happened to have the word pizza in it, so its a fun bit of marketing.

Unfortunately, while it might have been a fun name, it also created bigger problems. An Ohio company called Pizzazz Pizza & Restaurant sued Taco Bell in 1985, claiming infringement. The court eventually sided with Taco Bell, but the ruling also found “pizzazz” too descriptive to be protected as a trademark, underscoring that the name lacked strength. Focus groups had originally pushed Taco Bell’s ad agency toward Pizzazz Pizza instead of the company’s first choice, Mexican Pizza. After the legal fight and lukewarm sales, Taco Bell decided it was time for the Pizzazz Pizza to go, but that didn’t mean the idea would be retired.

In 1988 the product was renamed to their original choice, the Mexican Pizza. Olives and green onions were dropped, the build was simplified, and the connection to Taco Bell’s core menu was clearer. The rebrand and new name gave the item staying power, something the short-lived Pizzazz Pizza never achieved. Doing better than its predecessor, it evolved into a comfort item for loyal customers and eventually carried a nostalgia factor that helped fuel its return decades later.

Pizza’s rise in the 1980s reshaped fast food. It forced burger chains to expand their menus and gave Taco Bell an opening to stretch its identity. The Pizzazz Pizza may have been a misstep, but it paved the way for the Mexican Pizza, which went on to become a fan favorite. Even failed products can leave a lasting mark on the fast food landscape, a good reminder that experimentation can often set the stage for long term success.

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In 1976 Jaws was up for multiple Academy Awards, but none of them were in the category of acting. That is a real surprise because I think anyone who has seen this film will agree there are a lot of strong performances in it. Today I would like to make a case for an actor who wasn't one the main three, Murray Hamilton.

He was a great character actor, a …

1999 was a great year for movies. Almost too great. It didn’t help that I found myself so busy with work that my focus on film couldn’t be what it used to be. So while I am a big fan of “The Iron Giant,” I was also one of those people who didn’t go to see it in the theater and contributed to its “flop” status. That summer was stacked with films like “The Sixth Sense” and “The Blair Witch Project,” and it was easy for something quieter and more thoughtful to get lost. While that is bad, the good news is that I was also one of the people who took to it on home video and picked it up on DVD as soon as it was available. I can still remember watching it for the first time at home and being floored by how much heart it had.

I start the episode talking about my experiences with the film before moving onto the film itself. I discuss the people who made the film, its source material, other adaptations, the people who lent their voices to the film, its reception, music, and much more. It’s worth noting that the director, Brad Bird, would later go on to make “The Incredibles” and “Ratatouille,” which shows just how much talent was already on display in this debut. Unfortunately, Warner Bros. had no idea how to market the film at the time, which didn’t help its chances at the box office.

The Iron Giant has become a cult hit and is well loved, but it’s not enough. A surprising number of people have never seen the film, and I think that’s a shame. It’s a thoughtful film, filled with wonder and spectacle, that will capture the imagination of kids and adults alike. Its story of fear, empathy, and the power of choice feels even more relevant today. So if you haven’t seen it, prepare to fall in love with a giant robot.

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• This is the 350th episode of the Retroist Podcast and episode 24 of the new season. This is the final episode of season 17!

• Vin Diesel’s voice was made for this character. I think he is great as Groot, but this voice work will also be my favorite of his.

• I got into a great discussion with a former co-worker who also liked this film about how it might have been more successful if this film had been made later in the Pixar age at that studio. I am not sure they could have done the style correctly, but I would have like to see them try.

• Bonus clippings can be found over on Patreon for Supporters.

• Not a ton of retro audio in this episode, but I was able to add the major release tv spots to the show.

• Music on the show is, as always, by Peachy.

• Already planning the next season of the show. And in the meantime I will continue to release episodes for supporters. You can get them by supporting the Retroist here on Substack or on Patreon.

Thanks for listening to the show and I hope you have a great weekend.

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Everyone but me in my family smoked cigarettes. So, pretty early in life one of my chores was to run to the corner store to buy a pack for each member of my family. I did this almost every day. After giving the store owner the money I was given some change, which I usually used to buy candy or play video games, along with a pack of matches. Since almost everyone in my family owned a lighter, these matchbooks piled up. Before long they filled the junk drawer. Over the years we ended up with dozens of different types of matchbooks, but the one I remember most was the 1000 Stamps John F. Kennedy matches.

I never thought much about them, even after handling hundreds of them and dabbling in stamp collecting as a kid. They were just ephemera that slipped into daily life and became part of the background you never questioned. Nowadays though, when I look at them, I want to know the story behind them. Who made them, and what was the deal with all those stamps?

Stamp collecting began in the mid 19th century and by the early 20th century it was one of the most popular hobbies in the United States and Europe. Children were drawn to colorful foreign stamps that could be bought for pennies, while adults and older kids enjoyed the sense of history and geography that stamps represented.

The Great Depression and the war years only strengthened its appeal. It was inexpensive, could be pursued at home, and after World War II the baby boom created a new wave of eager collectors. By the 1950s and 1960s stamp collecting was part of everyday American life, and firms that supplied collectors were eager to find new ways to promote the hobby.

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The Kenmore Stamp Company was founded in 1932 by Ernest Greenway Jarvis in Kenmore, New York as a small mail order business built on his personal interest in stamps. In 1943 the business was acquired by H. E. Harris, a leading American stamp dealer. His son later reestablished Kenmore in Arlington, Massachusetts before relocating it to Milford, New Hampshire in 1951. From the mid 20th century onward Kenmore became known for its approval service, where collectors received packets of stamps to keep or return, and for its wide offerings of U.S. and worldwide issues, albums, and accessories. The company advertised heavily to beginners and families through magazines, catalogs, and comic books, but they also saw another promotional tool already in the hands of millions of consumers.

By the mid 20th century matchbook covers were a popular advertising medium because they were cheap to print, easy to distribute in bulk, and often carried around in people’s pockets. Stamp companies picked up on this trend in the 1940s and 1950s, and with smoking so widespread, the idea caught on quickly. You could sell just about anything on a matchbook.

While you might remember the book of stamps, how many of you remember what was inside? It was an order form that that you sent along with your money. My favorite part of the form is the message about not mailing matches. I wonder how often that happened?

In the 1960s Kenmore Stamp Company started using matchbooks as an inexpensive way to promote collecting to the general public. These small ads often featured bold offers such as “1,000 stamps for $2.95” or a free starter set for only a dime, with a money back guarantee. While the covers varied, the one that stood out to me was the one from the early 1980s or late 1970s and featured a notable Argentinian stamp from 1964 with a portrait of John F. Kennedy. So why did Argentina put out a stamp with Kennedy on it?

Argentina issued its John F. Kennedy stamp in 1964 as part of a wave of international tributes following his assassination in 1963. Kennedy was admired worldwide as a symbol of youthful leadership and progressive ideals, and in Latin America he was closely associated with the Alliance for Progress, a U.S. program launched in 1961 to promote economic cooperation and development in the region. By placing his portrait on a commemorative issue, Argentina honored his memory and joined in the global outpouring of respect that followed his death.

Everyone in America knew who Kennedy was, and collecting material related to the president after his assassination was big business even decades later. It was smart for Kenmore to link the hobby to a figure of broad appeal, especially on a stamp that was inexpensive and relatively uncommon in the United States.

While cheap and common at the time, these matchbooks have since become an affordable collectible in their own right. They are valued both as vintage advertising and as an example of how stamp dealers reached a mass audience outside traditional collector circles. This wasn’t the only offer they were running at the time. I remember a Revolutionary War themed one, but probably the more well-known Kenmore matchbook from the early 1980s featured Prince Charles and Lady Diana, tying the stamp hobby to another global cultural moment.

Now I knew that collecting stamps was known as philately, but I didn’t know that collecting matchbooks is known as phillumeny, and during the mid 20th century it was almost as common as stamp collecting. For many people the colorful designs and advertising on match covers were as appealing as the stamps Kenmore was promoting. That overlap helped preserve pieces like the Kennedy and Diana matchbooks, since they ended up not just in the hands of smokers but also in the collections of phillumenists who treated them as worthy of saving (and maybe turned them into philatelists).

For me those matches are not just reminders of who in my family smoked or what was stuffed into the junk drawer. They show how ordinary objects kept bigger stories alive. Kennedy on a stamp printed in Argentina. A company in New Hampshire figuring out how to reach kids like me with a hobby that had already been passed through generations. Even a marriage across the ocean turned into an ad on a matchbook. It all comes together in those little folded covers that were supposed to be used and thrown away, but somehow still survive. In the end, they lit more than cigarettes. They lit hobbies. They lit curiosity. That is why they last.

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On the August 2025 Monthly Update I talk about what's been going on with the site and podcast, but also some other things going on in my life and some random thoughts I have. They include:

• History of Hawaiian Punch

• Keebler Tato Skin

• CBS Nice Price

• Writing vs. Podcasting

• Jaws 3D

• Jaws The Revenge

• Jaws: Beyond the Screen

• Jaws 50th

• The Untouchable

• Video Store Podcast…

Welcome to my final episode I plan to do about the Jaws franchise. Originally I planned on doing just a podcast about the Jaws NES Game, but as I started working on it, I thought it might be more enjoyable to throw a wider net. So on today’s show, I am going to talk about a few topics related to the film. Mainly, the board games, video games, theme park rides, and trading cards. The format is a little different, I hope not too disruptive.

I started the show talking about when I first got my hands on the Jaws Game by ideal. I inherited it and lots of toys from my sister. Them being older has a lot of perks. This was one of them. My toys were normally rooted in the 80s, but as my sisters got older, I had access to all these amazing older toys that I still think of as “my toys” to this day.

After I tell my story, I move onto to covering a few topics. Instead of my normal format, I just sort of talk a bit about each topic for a few minutes. This is not a comprehensive coverage of the subject, but really about the Jaws stuff I am most familiar with.

You will notices that I do not cover the novelty hit, Mr. Jaws from 1975. I originally recorded a short segment about it, but I didn’t like the way it turned out, but I didn’t want to ignore the “song.” So I included some of it as a bumper.

I am very surprised that the Jaws franchise is pretty dead right now. In our franchise obsessed world, it seems like a natural fit. One day, I hope a good director decides to take on the story of killer sharks again. When they do, I will be there.

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If you have a moment, please stop by Apple Podcasts or wherever you might download the show and perhaps give the show a quick rating. It is very much appreciated.

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• This is the 349th episode of the Retroist Podcast and episode 23 of the new season. One more episode left in the season

• This is a sequel to my Retroist Jaws, Jaws 2, Jaws 3D, and Jaws: The Revenge podcasts and it will be helpful if you listen to the others (sorta).

• A few times over the years, I attempted to rebuy the Jaws game but was outbid. I would like the shark, but I would really like that box.

• If you would like to listen to Mr. Jaws in its entirety.

• Real regret how I didn’t go to Universal Studio. I was just such a Disney fan that the idea of wasting any time at another park was challenging.

• No bonus clippings for this episode. I did try and find some locally that fit well, but it was just too messy. Maybe I will come up with something in the future and post them on Patreon.

• I had a section about the Jaws promo documentaries, but since I covered them in the other podcasts, I didn’t think they were all that interesting here.

• Music on the show is, as always, by Peachy.

• Fond farewell, Jaws. Fond farewell.

Thanks for listening to the show and I hope you have a great weekend.

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In my recent episodes about Jaws: The Revenge, I mentioned that I missed out on seeing The Untouchables when I saw it and that made me sort of angry at the film. That grudge was misplaced, but it lasted a few years. Until one day, after a whole lot of nagging, a co-working finally got me to watch it, and I loved it.

I start off talking about my relucta…

As a kid, I was pretty happy with the few albums I bought. With limited funds, it was important that I was sure the album I was picking up was going to be worth of multiple replays. Over time though, I started discover that you could buy albums at lower prices. Remaindered and used became my good friends, but another category existed for people who wanted brand new albums at lower prices. These were records, usually older hits that were send to record stores and meant to be sold at a discounted rate. They were usually branded as such and today I want to talk about one the more famous of these brands, The Nice Price.

When CBS Records introduced The Nice Price in the United States, it was not just about cheap records. It was a way to give older albums new life on store shelves at a lower cost. By the late seventies the company had decades of proven titles in its catalog from artists like Bob Dylan, Miles Davis, and Billy Joel. These albums had long ago covered their recording and promotion costs, but they were drifting out of sight in shops that needed room for new releases. The Nice Price program solved that problem by putting them back into circulation.

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The program began in 1979 with about three hundred titles, and by 1981 the number had grown to eight hundred. A Billboard report that fall described the plan as a price cut across a block of albums, lowering list prices from the standard 9.29 to 6.98. That put them in a middle ground between full price new records and true bargain bin albums. The trade press positioned it as a midline strategy rather than a dump of unsold stock. These were healthy catalog titles, priced to sell while still leaving room for stores to make a profit.

In the United States the program was most visible on vinyl LPs. Nice Price albums usually carried a bright circular or rectangular sticker on the shrink wrap with the logo. Once the record was opened the difference was clear. Printed inner sleeves with photos or lyrics were often replaced with plain white sleeves. Heavier vinyl stock was sometimes swapped for thinner pressings. Extras such as posters or inserts were dropped. These cuts saved CBS production costs while still giving listeners the full album.

The stickers became a familiar sight in record stores. Anyone flipping through racks in the eighties and nineties recognized that red and yellow logo as a flag announcing that a solid classic album could be had for a couple of bucks less. The music was the same as the original and most buyers were happy to sacrifice bells and whistles for savings. The Nice Price was available in other countries as well, where the stickers looked different, but the reasoning behind them was the same.

Pricing was the heart of the program. By lowering the list price of Nice Price LPs to 6.98 from the usual 9.29, CBS gave some meaningful saving. At a time when a dollar or two made a huge difference for younger customers, that was enough to sway a purchaser like me.

The dealer margin was still solid. A 1981 report in Record Business noted that the UK version sold at 2.99 retail, giving shops about a thirty percent margin. The U.S. structure used different wholesale figures, but the principle was the same. Stores had reason to push these albums because they could sell them cheaply without cutting their profit. For smaller shops it was an advantage, since they could restock proven titles without tying up money in expensive imports or untested new releases.

This placed Nice Price albums in their own category. They were not as cheap or random as cutouts, which were often seen as failed records and could be identified by purposely damaged covers where a corner was clipped or a notch was sawed into the sleeve, a permanent reminder that the record had not sold. They were not as expensive as brand new full price LPs either. Nice Price struck a middle ground, giving CBS a way to present its back catalog as both valuable and accessible.

For a lot of us The Nice Price became the doorway into an artist’s history. A teenager in 1982 might have bought Born to Run at full price but then filled in the rest of Bruce Springsteen’s discography through Nice Price reissues. Fans of Dylan, The Clash, or Toto could suddenly explore large parts of their work with less of a cost barrier. The rise of cassette culture made this even more important. People were buying whole discographies to tape for their Walkmans, and Nice Price editions made that habit affordable. The line turned casual fans into collectors because it was much more reasonable to dig deeper than the hits.

Record stores often set up dedicated bins or racks for the series, making it easy to browse. That visual presence helped the branding stick, and you soon found yourself looking just for the stickers if you were on a budget. Especially once you figured out what the stickers meant.

CBS like other music companies, had catalog numbers for all their records. For The Nice Price, they set aside a dedicated range within their existing system to keep the program organized. In the United States many Nice Price LPs were placed in the 32000 block, usually from 32001 through the upper 32800s. This distinguished them from the original editions, which kept their first catalog numbers. For example, Planet Waves by Bob Dylan and Sounds of Silence by Simon and Garfunkel both appeared in this budget run. Planet Waves was the first Nice Price album (catalog 32001), followed by Simon and Garfunkel’s Sounds of Silence and Teddy Pendergrass’s Greatest Hits.

The purpose was practical. Retailers and distributors could order either the original full price release or the Nice Price edition, and the numbering kept billing, reorders, and chart tracking clear. For collectors today, the 32xxx series is often the surest way to identify a Nice Price pressing if the sticker is missing.

The same principle carried over to cassettes. Tape editions often mirrored the LP numbers but used a prefix to mark them as cassettes, keeping the program consistent across formats. Compact discs were handled differently.

By 1988 CBS Records had been folded into Sony Music and the industry was moving quickly into the CD era. The Nice Price branding carried through the transition. In the late 1980s and early 1990s the program was common on compact discs. CDs usually kept their original catalog numbers, but the cases carried a Nice Price sticker or logo on the tray card. The same logic of the vinyl program applied. Booklets were stripped down, packaging was simplified, and the savings were clear. In the expensive early years of the CD market, having a midline option helped. Sony used the program not only in the U.S. but across its international branches, and Japan continued issuing Nice Price CDs well into the 2000s.

The program grew quickly and was a big success. By mid 1981 trade papers reported that more than ten Nice Price titles were moving onto the album charts. CBS added titles steadily through the year, with fifteen more in June and another twenty five by September. By 1983 the U.S. program reportedly carried close to one thousand titles, covering nearly every major act on the label.

CBS also introduced The Nice Price Plus, a sticker applied to double albums and box sets. They looked different in color with a pink and purple theme. A Cash Box feature in February 1982 described these at a suggested retail around 8.98. That was still cheaper than normal double sets but high enough to reflect the added costs of producing them. It showed that CBS was willing to adapt the idea beyond single LPs.

Other labels had their own versions of The Nice Price. Warner had the Super Saver Series, RCA had the Best Buy Series, and MCA had Value Priced reissues. These worked for these companies but seemed less visible. CBS treated The Nice Price almost as a brand of its own, backing it with recognizable stickers and consistent marketing. That branding mattered. It turned a discount program into something official and trustworthy. Buyers felt like they were getting a deal on classics rather than picking through failed stock.

By the mid 1990s the retail landscape shifted. Discounting became common across the board, and large chain stores routinely sold new releases below suggested retail. That made a formal midline program less necessary. At the same time the CD market matured, and digital distribution began to loom. The Nice Price logo slowly disappeared in the U.S., though it remained in use longer overseas, especially in Europe and Japan. International markets tended to keep curated catalog lines longer, reflecting stronger collector cultures and a slower move to digital.

In its American heyday, however, it was everywhere. Entire racks in record stores, long lists of catalog titles, and regular mentions in the music press made The Nice Price a familiar part of shopping for music. It was more than a sticker. It was a careful balance of branding and economics that gave old albums a second life. For CBS it was proof that classics could be made profitable again when priced and packaged the right way. For fans it was a chance to explore more music without breaking the bank. Though the logo has faded, the idea lives on in every lower priced reissue and value priced collection that keeps older music in front of new ears.

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In March of 1985, my snack-eating habit changed forever when Keebler’s newest salty snack arrived in my supermarket in New Jersey. They were called Tato Skins and it was love at first sight. The appeal was instant. I already loved when my family ordered potato skins as an appetizer when we went out to eat. Chips were not all that common in our house, but luckily my mother liked novelty and we picked up a bag of the Cheddar Cheese n’ Bacon. My first bite when we got home was a taste experience. I was hooked by the crunchy crisp combined with the strong flavors. I knew right then I had found a new favorite snack food.

If you grew up in the eighties there is a good chance you remember Keebler Tato Skins. They were not just another potato chip, and technically they were not really a chip by most definitions. Made from potato, they were thick, two-toned, and shaped to look like tiny baked potato halves. One side was pale and soft-looking like the inside of a potato, and the other was darker, peel-like, and crisp.

That look was not an accident. Tato Skins were a carefully engineered snack, developed by Miles Willard and his company, Miles Willard Technologies, in Idaho. Willard was one of the most influential figures in shaping potato-based snacks in the late 20th century. He began his career at the USDA Eastern Regional Research Laboratory, where he contributed to advances in potato dehydration that later made fabricated snacks possible. In the 1970s and 1980s, after founding his own firm, he created snack products under contract for major companies.

Keebler hired Willard’s team for new potato-based products, and Tato Skins emerged in 1985 as one of the company’s most successful non-cookie launches. Willard’s expertise was in taking dehydrated potato material and transforming it into snacks that were crunchy, uniform, and visually distinctive. Tato Skins has all of those traits being designed to resemble the crisped edge of a baked potato skin while still being a manufactured product.

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Among the many snacks attributed to Willard and his company are Hula Hoops in the U.K., O’Boisies, Ripplins, Chachos, CC Ricers, and of course Tato Skins. Each drew on his knowledge of how to make potato-based ingredients appealing in both texture and appearance.

I know some of you might be thinking, are these really chips? You are right. Tato Skins were better described as crisps than chips because of how they were produced. Traditional potato chips are cut directly from whole potatoes and fried, which gives them the irregular natural slices people expect. Tato Skins were made from a dough of dehydrated potato flakes, starch, and seasoning that was shaped and fried. This process allowed Keebler to control thickness, texture, and the two-tone look that resembled a real potato skin. Since they were fabricated rather than sliced, they fell into the same technical category as Pringles, which the FDA required to be labeled as potato crisps. Keebler marketed them as chips because that is what shoppers were looking for, but technically they were crisps, not classic potato chips.

Keebler was known for cookies at the time, but the salty snack market was hard to ignore. By 1984, the U.S. salty snack market was worth more than $6.1 billion in retail sales, and sales were growing by double digits. This was not their first step into that world. Since 1980 they had been making Butter Flavored Pretzels and Krunch Twists, but Tato Skins were something different.

They arrived at the right moment. While not a new food, America in the eighties loved baked potatoes loaded with toppings, and potato skins had become a staple appetizer in casual dining. TGI Fridays and Bennigan’s helped make them popular, and Wendy’s alone was slinging 600,000 a day. A baked potato split in half, scooped a little, and topped with cheese, bacon, and sour cream was everywhere. Keebler’s idea was to take that familiar appetizer and reimagine it as a portable snack.

Keebler’s pitch was simple, take the “baked potato appeal” and put it in a bag. Their commercials leaned into this message with the Keebler elves cheerfully explaining that the crisps were made “from potatoes and skins that are real.” The jingle hammered home that they were more authentic than regular potato chips.

Testing started in early 1985 and the first bags reached stores on February 24 of that year. By late March, they were available nationwide in 8 ounce bags. That was when I was lucky enough to see my first bag and try them myself.

The launch flavors were Cheddar Cheese n’ Bacon, Sour Cream n’ Chives, and Tasty Baked Potato. For me, Cheddar Cheese n’ Bacon was the star, a salty-sweet cheese powder amped up by artificial bacon flavor. Sour Cream n’ Chives had a cool tangy base with a mild herbal note. Tasty Baked Potato was more straightforward, aiming for the flavor of a simple savory potato. In 1988 Keebler added Barbecue, which did seem to be a major oversight as a flavor.

One thing that I always liked about the chips were how, because of their construction, very few of the chips in the bad would be broken. At least a lot less than what I got in a bag of chips. This was due to their construction not because of any special packaging.

The flavors were bold, but there was more to the experience than seasoning. Every Tato Skin had two sides. One stayed pale like the inside of a potato, the other browned to resemble the skin. That darker side carried a faint bitterness that made the flavor feel closer to an actual baked potato. It also created a visual hook that made the crisps instantly recognizable. Paired with a thick crunch you could not find in other chips, Tato Skins stood out.

Keebler ran plenty of promotions for Tato Skins. One of the most memorable was the Great Tato Skins Top-Off contest. Fans were invited to submit a topping or dip recipe in 150 words or less, along with proof of purchase seals. Entries were judged on originality, appetite appeal, and ease of preparation.

The prizes were generous. The grand prize included a 1988 Mercury Sable station wagon, a diamond pendant, and a Hawaiian vacation package. Other winners received Caribbean cruises, trips to Disneyland, and Oster kitchen appliances. It was a novel attempt to keep Tato Skins in the public eye. I only found one person who won that September who has made a baked dish with Tato Skins as a topping. Not sure they followed directions, but they got 4th place and an Oster kitchen appliance.

But the snack market moves fast. By the early nineties, kettle-cooked chips were gaining ground, baked snack lines were expanding, and extreme flavors were dominating the shelves. Tato Skins still had fans, but they were not the high-impact flavor bombs that new marketing demanded.

The big shift came around 2000 when Keebler no longer owned the brand. Poore Brothers, later known as Inventure Foods, bought the Indiana plant that produced Tato Skins and licensed the TGI Fridays name. The crisps returned to shelves as TGI Fridays Potato Skins Snack Chips, branded with the restaurant that had helped make potato skins famous in the first place. The flavors were familiar, but longtime fans noticed changes. The seasoning was lighter, the texture less rugged, and the Keebler elves were gone. Still, they survived, and you can find them even now under the TGI Fridays label, though they are more of a niche snack than the nationwide hit they once were.

This rebranding explains why many people thought Tato Skins disappeared in the nineties. In truth, they never fully vanished. They shifted into a restaurant-branded snack rather than one fronted by elves. That twist is fitting, since they were always meant to capture the flavor of a restaurant appetizer.

Even though the original Keebler bags are long gone, the memory of Tato Skins lives on for anyone who tried them in the eighties. They were a potent mix of food science, marketing, and timing. They turned a casual dining appetizer into something you could eat anywhere, and they stood out in a crowded aisle. The fact that they still exist in another form shows how strong the idea was, even if the Keebler elves are no longer on the bag. For those of us who first opened one decades ago, the crunch and flavor of Tato Skins remain a marker of a very specific snack moment in time.

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I have very mixed feeling about Jaws: The Revenge. On the one hand, I found it disappointing when compared to earlier films, on the other hand I am fascinated that it was made and audiences reaction or lack of reaction to it. It is the last of the Jaws film, but was it the killer of the franchise or was the franchise already dying and this was just the last gasp?

I saw most of Jaws: The Revenge by myself. I don’t think I had a critical eye at the time, because even though I wanted it to be better, I was entertained enough by it, especially once it started. The FX did stand out as bad, but I liked the change in setting and the silliness of the shark seeking revenge. On this episode of the show, I will talk about the road to making the sequel, the writers, the director, the music, its reception and much more. Its a messy film that might not be critically great, but that doesn’t mean its not interesting.

This was a weird movie for me to cover in that I don’t think its a great film. That is not something I usually do. The thing is, the more I started watching it, thinking about it, and reading the novelization, the more interesting I found it. As you move further along in the Jaws sequels, fewer and fewer people see them. With this one, things have flatlined. Its reputation precedes it so much that people have avoided it like a shark plagued Amity beach. So will you think the movie is great after listening to this? Probably not, and I am not trying to convince you, but I do hope it makes you think about the movie.

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• This is the 348th episode of the Retroist Podcast and episode 22 of the new season.

• This is a sequel to my Retroist Jaws, Jaws 2, and Jaws 3D podcast and it will be helpful if you listen to the others.

• The movie theater in my town was a hub for activity for so many years. A surprising amount of drama and just growing up experiences revolved around it. Communities need more spaces like this.

• I had a lot of retro audio I wanted to add, but I limited myself. I think at least 2.5 minutes were cut there.

• Its hard to say a movie is “Bad.” The expectations for this movie are higher than other films that get called “bad.” A lot more films are worse.

• The tone of the film jumps around a lot. I think most of the Bahama shifts work well enough, but the scenes in “Amity” are not a great way to start the film. They feel more like TV movie reactions and drama.

• I remember sitting on the steps of the theater, it had 3 small steps or so. Waiting for my friends and watching people come in and out of the theater. I could smell the popcorn.

• Not John Williams, but a really nice soundtrack.

• Shame Murray Hamilton passed away, I love the idea that after all that happened, he is still somehow the mayor of Amity.

• Bonus Clipping should be up at the same time the episode comes out and see if people prefer it that way.

• Music on the show is, as always, by Peachy.

Thanks for listening to the show and I hope you have a great weekend.

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