Cavemen and Dinosaurs

I wish Flintstones chewable vitamins were still a staple of my daily diet. They were like SweeTarts, or Smarties, fortified with just enough iron and riboflavin. Basically, they were healthy candy.

I considered it cruel and unusual punishment that I could only take one per day; using my ingenious, Kindergarten-honed sense of logic, I figured more of a good thing was invariably and unequivocally better.

I'm aware that, in addition to the expected characters, they also make them in the shape of the Great Gazoo now; I don't remember if they had those back when I was young or if they added him to the line-up after the fact.

I vividly remember the catchy jingle they played during the commercials: "Ten million strong...and groooowing."

Now they offer two distinct options, the latter not being available to me as a child: chewable vitamins and gummi vitamins; I maintain the notion that current generations always have it better than the generations that preceded them.

The Flintstones helped push a lot of product; their faces adorn boxes of Cocoa and Fruity Pebbles, beloved household items. But it makes me wonder, why didn't any of their other contemporaries get any endorsement deals? Did some advertising agency conduct a scientific study that proved the Jetsons couldn't sell merchandise? Did Snagglepuss not have the necessary clout to carry his own brand of breakfast cereal?

It seems so obvious now -- just push down and twist at the same time -- but those child-proof bottle caps really did what they were supposed to. They were impenetrable.