A sweet tooth runs in my family. Before this past Thanksgiving, I had gone to the candy shop on the lower level of Macy’s On State (formerly Marshall Field’s) to buy some Chicago-specific treats for my nephews and niece. This uncle can’t keep track of everyone’s dietary issues, and few things seem worse than being the recipient of something you’re not allowed to have. I texted my sister-in-law to ask if their children were allowed to have sweets and/or if any of them had any restrictions. Her almost immediate response to the former question literally made me laugh out loud in the store: that the kids can have candy, and that their penchant for sweets was “stunning”. That was the word she used. In fact, I’m laughing again now as I type this.
The candy shop at Macy’s on State (formerly Marshall Field’s). Sunday, November 20, 2022.
It’s true that it would take the digits on more than one hand for me to count the number of times I had to have all of my hair buzzed completely off after falling asleep with bubble gum in my mouth and having it wound up all around my head like a rubber band ball. This seems particularly ironic in 2023 as: a.) I have unmaskable male pattern baldness; and b.) Also stunning was one particular year of my adolescence when I had to have thirteen fillings at the dentist’s office due to a combination of my love for sweets, poor self-esteem and, related to second thing, questionable dental hygiene practices. (I’m all about giving the young me grace these days.) Before all of that went down, though, I had become a connoisseur of candy with my weekly, Saturday afternoon bike ride to the convenience store not far from my house to spend my allowance on sugary things.
At some point in the ’80s, I remember gummi (or gummy) bears becoming a thing. I have a pretty good memory and honestly didn’t remember seeing gummi bears anywhere before a certain point during my elementary school years. As it turns out, my recollection was entirely accurate this time, as gummi bears were first sold in the United States in 1982. I’ve always had a taste for the novel or things out of the mainstream, and when gummi bears arrived to the racks of the Sunshine Food Store outpost in my neighborhood, they immediately piqued my curiosity. There was that spelling, with the “i” at the end that indicated they were from Germany (fancy!), and they came in an assortment of flavors. They were chewy, sweet, and tart, almost like gum you could eat. As an aside, I have actually been to Bonn, Germany, the city where this candy originated.
Gummi bears soon became a favorite, and I can fondly recall trips to Sears at the Genesee Valley Mall in Flint Township (the “good” mall) where the candy counter was near the Atari video game display area with consoles and test cartridges, not far from the riding mowers and car repair shop entrance. I’d ask the person behind the counter for a dollar’s worth of gummi bears, which wouldn’t get you squat today (like five bears, maybe?), but was enough then to feel like there was a little weight in the plastic baggie fastened with a twist-tie. Each individual piece had this melty, rounded, soft, squishy look and feel, but was still recognizable as a bear.
This 1995 Geo Prizm has a melty, rounded, soft, squishy look to it, but is still recognizable as a car. It is almost early-’90s Hyundai-esque in its lack of distinctive external features. I think the only straight-appearing line on this thing might be the black side rub strips on the doors. That isn’t to say I find it unattractive. There seems to have been that apogee in the mid-’90s when automotive styling was as round as it was going to get before the pendulum started swinging the other direction. This Prizm represents one example of the extreme of the rounded look on a mainstream car.
NUMMI, an acronym for New United Motor Manufacturing, Inc., was the former General Motors-Toyota joint venture that manufactured vehicles between 1984 and 2010 before that partnership was dissolved and the plant was sold to Tesla. You can read more about NUMMI in this excellent post by Jeff Nelson that ran back in 2011. The gist of this partnership was to help GM improve their build quality, efficiency, and employee morale with lessons learned from Toyota, and also for the Japanese powerhouse to gain a footing in the U.S. for making vehicles here, as well as an understanding of the dynamics of the union workforce. My family of origin had owned an ’87 Chevy Nova born of the NUMMI partnership. That was a great car, with its Toyota Corolla-sourced mechanicals.
This ’95 Prizm is the direct descendant of that capable compact. This example has the standard 1.6 liter four-cylinder engine with 105 horsepower. In addition to the base car, there was a more nicely equipped LSi model available that had an upgraded interior, a folding rear seat with access to the trunk (why couldn’t this have been standard on the base model?), a tilt steering wheel, and access to a few other optional niceties that included a 1.8 liter twin-cam four with 115 horsepower.
Being the mechanical twin of the concurrent Toyota Corolla, a car that continues to be a small car benchmark, the Prizm was smooth, quiet, efficient, unexciting, reliable, and often less expensive than the Toyota due to lack of name recognition. Speaking of the name, the “z” in “Prizm” always bothered me. There was also the rainbow-named Spectrum sold by the same dealerships, which was spelled correctly. Why wasn’t that one called the “Spectrym”? Because that would also have been stupid.
“NUMMI” is typically pronounced “noo-me”, and “gummi” / “gummy” is pronounced “guh-me” by most people, so I’ll admit that my titular metaphor, as far as naming is concerned, may be slightly off. There was this kid named Jason who lived across the street from me who pronounced it “goo-me” bears, which I would then pronounce “gummy” after he said that word, as if to try to casually slip my correction into conversation. He and I would just end up pronouncing those words louder and louder. We didn’t hang, as we just didn’t click. I hope he’s okay and that his pronunciation of the names of candies has improved.
If the Tropical Green Mica finish of the featured car was a flavor, what would it be? Most of the green gummi bears I remember were a much paler or darker shade of green than this car, and they tasted like sour apple. This NUMMI bear would probably taste like Kiwi or something else ’90s-appropriate. (Snapple, anyone?) Regardless, seeing one of these in such remarkable shape last month put a huge smile on my face. Just like a bag of gummi bears I would be snacking on as I watched a movie or television, suddenly all of these long-lasting Prizms seemed to be gone without a trace.
Andersonville, Chicago, Illinois.
Thursday, December 15, 2022.
I remember seeing a small handful of Geo Prizm models on UK roads in the 1990s.
I seem to remember in the 1990s that Vauxhall and Opel were supposed to be getting the Prizm, but in the end it never happened, I wonder why?
IIRC, wasn’t there a Holden version of the Prizm in Australia, but with different engines?
Australia had the Holden Nova a rebadged Toyota Corolla from memory they were 1.6 engined and the Holden Apollo a rebadged 4 cyl Camry in return Toyota had the Toyota Lexcen a rebadged Holden Commodore V6.
You see Gummi Bear, I see Frango, my favorite Marshall Field candy.
×2! Grandma Stern always used to bring us Frangos (Frangoes?) from Seattle when she and grandpa came visiting us in Denver. I’m kind of afraid to try getting hold of some today; there was something of a schism in the Frangoverse along the years; they were originally a Frederick and Nelson (-go) item, then mergers and acquisitions and shutdowns and lawsuits and that sort of thing, and now if you can get them, which you pretty much can’t, they’re made according to some imposter of a recipe from Chicago. Nope! This is like that old Pace picante sauce ad (“New York City?!”).
But now I dig into the matter, I’m reminded of the existence and relevance of Seattle Gourmet Foods, who still make the candy in question—now called Dilettante Trufflecremes. The weird part is I knew this; there used to be a Dilettante chocolate shop in Capitol Hill, a district we frequented when I had a house in Seattle. Somehow I just forgot—probably because I get sad when I think of that house (RIP).
Next step: figure out if they ship to Canada!
I love Frangos and bought boxes for two of the kids for Thanksgiving (the other kid got gourmet candy canes).
I have a box of Frangos on my fridge from Christmas that I may have to treat myself to this weekend. Macy’s On State (former Marshall Field’s flagship store) had a year-end sale where pretty much all holiday boxes were half-off, but when I got there last Thursday, the only ones they had left were the chocolate-raspberry ones. Which I’m sure are good, but I wanted more mint chocolate!
I love the gummi bear connection! And I will agree that the color of this Geo is a bit off from the normal green gummi we have all consumed too many of. When you started the comparison with green candy, the color on this car immediately took my mind back to those kind of shimmery hard candies that came out at old peoples’ houses at Christmas when I was a kid. I never really liked them, but that green is pretty close.
“Because that would also have been stupid.” – This bit of blunt truth made me laugh.
This was one of those cars with which I could find no fault at all, but which were so completely character-free that I could never get interested.
JP, in turn, your picture reminded me exactly of the hard candies that would be at my grandparents’ house… in a milkglass candy dish with a cover. Sometimes two would stick together, and I’d be like, “Oh, well! It counts as one candy if they’re stuck like that!” Never my favorite from a flavor perspective, I liked them well enough – and loved them for the association with being at my grandparents’ house.
Well, this one is still quite mobile if you found it in Chicago and it has Idaho plates. Not too shabby…
A male friend of my daughter’s drives a ’97 Prizm (I think it’s a ’97) that is still of this body-style, but it is a cinnamon color. It had belonged to an old lady who bought it new and it was spotless with just over 50,000 miles a couple years ago. Now, not so much. That ball got rolling when he rear ended a car at a signal light. His defense for doing so was because the light was green…
People who don’t have a sweet tooth just don’t understand those of us who do. The inclination is real.
The inclination is very real.
I have watched friends and acquaintances end up dogging once-nice cars because they don’t care or recognize them as special. I get that sometimes a once-pampered car sometimes has to go into real-time duty, but still. Does it really take that much extra effort not to carelessly bang it against things? Shaking my head…
When I was very young my favorite candy bar was “Three Musketeers”. Unlike today, those early bars were the size and shape of a deck of cards (about 2.5 inches by 3.5 inches), cost 5 cents, and was indented into three sections “so you could share two of the three segments with friends”. (TV commercial below).
Yea right… I ate all three segments; my friends could find their own nickles if they wanted any.
NUMMI also made the Pontiac Vibe/Toyota Matrix twins that were big hits in the early 2000s. The “wise word” on the street was get a good deal on the Vibe and end up up Toyota quality.
I noticed a few years back the confectionary industry rebranded the extra-large portions that used to be labelled “king size” or such as “share size”. I wonder how many of these actually get shared.
Not many.
Oh, wow – hence the name “3 Musketeers!” I would not have put that together if you hadn’t pointed out the three-bar configuration of the original candy bar! Thank you.
I remember a similar marketing thing when I first started paying attention to Twix candy bars. I’m sorry, but my meager allowance was too meager to be eating just one of my Twix bars and sharing the other one with someone else – especially one of my brothers. No dice.
As a kid of the ’50’s and ’60’s, I wouldn’t say that the “Three Musketeers” bar was my very favorite. However, it was the one that I usually bought when I got my hands on a nickel. I recall it as being about 50% larger than all the other bars for the same price. There was always the “Mr. Goodbar” at 3 cents, but they were terrible IMO. They were good enough for gifting to girls.
I probably wouldn’t want to actually own one, but I do love the green of that Prizm. It does look confectionary; evoking both Gummi Bears (a candy that came along well after my childhood fascination with candy had ended) and the “grandma” candy in JPC’s picture. I definitely knew of grandma candy, and it always seemed “pre-dusty” to me…something that did not do much for its desirability.
My mother-in-law had a Prizm like the one you feature. As I recall, it was a generally dependable car (owing I suppose to its Toyota roots) but suffered from considerable build quality issues. It was one of those cars that was always shedding parts. Things like switches, door handles, lights, etc. were always broken or breaking and over time came to just litter the interior. Even before it was out of warranty, a liberal amount of duct tape, electrical tape, and sometime scotch tape (if it’s tape, she’d find a way to apply it) was employed to hold on and strap down various non structural pieces of the vehicle. She had it for a while, but ultimately became convinced that the Prizm represented the nadir of “American Cars”…and so went over to a brand new and considerably more expensive VW Passat AWD (basically, an Audi A4 in VW clothing), which represented its own set of issues.
Happy New Year Joseph! Thanks for another interesting recollection.
Thanks so much, Jeff, and Happy New Year to you (and everyone else), as well!
These Prizms would have been two generations removed from the ’87 Nova (also based on the Toyota Sprinter) that my family owned, and I don’t remember any of the switchgear or interior parts being particularly susceptible to breaking. And we didn’t baby that car, plus it was baking in the Florida heat. Maybe there was a shift in interior plastics between ’88 (the last of the reborn Novas) and when the second-generation Prizms were made.
Given Japanese design and American build, how rust-resistant were these? I don’t know, because they are so anonymously styled as to be virtually unrecognized on street or at curbside…and cars don’t rust here, anyway.
The story about poor build quality is unsettling. Maybe they should have bought a Toyota after all.
I don’t remember any Prizm being particularly rust-prone, but the 1985 – ’88 Novas seemed like they were. I believe the ’87 Nova my parents owned had Rusty Jones protection and didn’t rust at all, but I’ve seen some with terrible “acne”, like this one I wrote about back in 2018:
https://www.curbsideclassic.com/curbside-classics-american/curbside-capsule-1986-chevrolet-nova-hatchback-bad-acne/
This car is about as bland as it gets. The color of it is its only redeeming value. Not that it was a bad car – it was a good car. Sadly, it was given zero styling features beyond existing.
I love food in bright colors – it just makes me happy and I want that happiness in my belly. I love Jello, Skittles, Kool-Aid, Jolly Ranchers, and anything with strong artificial coloring. When I lived in Germany, I hated the “natural coloring” of those foods, with only Haribo products showing the bursts of colors I loved ot see. America makes these ridiculous foods. Red dye number two? YES PLEASE!
However, this green color isn’t flavorful to me. The metalic sheen on it reminds me of toxic liquids. It isn’t a rich color. It is a “stay-away” color like anti-freeze or the oozing of a mine shaft. I see poison green.
I have been a fan of Haribo since they arrived in the States. I am not supposed to eat candy due to diabetes, but I do breakdown once every four months to indulge in a serving of the Cola Bottles or Bears. To survive these cravings without insulin injections, I buy a small bag for someone who knows that once I’ve had one serving, they get the rest, so that I don’t overdo it.
Three Musketeers? Disgusting! Instead of chocolate, it is mock-late covered circus peanuts without the orange or any flavor at all. The Big Mac of candy bars – no chewing required.
Haribo macht Kinder froh und Erwachsene ebenso!
Amen to this!
Oh, dude – I love Three Musketeers. Another bite-size candy bar I’d love to get at Halloween, because unlike others with caramel (Snickers, which I also), it wouldn’t stick to your teeth or to the roof of your mouth. And the fluffy “mock-late” (LOL) tasted pretty good to me.
The color of this Prizm is such that I realize I could have likened it to Prell shampoo and taken this essay in that direction, but the gummi bear metaphor worked much better for me in more than a few ways, including the roundedness of both candy and car.
Another good one from Mr. Dennis. The earlier NUMMI cars don’t really have that same confectionary vibe, for sure. (See what I did there? Vibe! get it?) I’m surprised to see one located in Illinois still in good condition. Isn’t that the epicenter of the Salt Belt? And Prizms have a reputation for sheet metal made out of compressed garden slugs… Although I drive a Prizm, I wouldn’t know this by personal experience, since I live in the Pacific Northwest where we don’t even put that much salt on our food, let alone the roads. Here’s a pic of my ’92 along with an older relative.
Second attempt with a smaller image…
Thanks, Mike. The picture you posted of your car and the Nova reminded me of how much more “grown up” the Prizm looked at the time compared with the Nova. While the Nova was a high-quality compact, it always looked tin-cannish (and no offense to anyone who liked they way they look).
The Prizm, by comparison, looked more substantial – which I’m sure it was.
The featured car had Idaho plates, and while I don’t know that much about the use of road salt in Idaho, my guess is that this car had probably belonged for much of its life to someone who didn’t drive it a whole lot. Maybe an elderly owner.
There was an endless stream of these in my life when new due to my Father’s business using Prizms almost exclusively as their company delivery cars. I lost count of how many between all the generations and following Corollas (when the Prizm succumbed to the Vibe) that spanned some 25 odd years… Unkillable, every last one of them. This generation was the high water mark; a very significant step up from the previous car if 7A-FE + 4AT powertrain equipped, with peak torque of 115 lb • ft at only 2800rpm. Ultra refined and relaxed for an economy car. It also was a big leap (at least as a Geo) in available content. There was a dark teal LSi in the fleet for a time that had nicely done leather, powerful integrated CD stereo and a moonroof, unheard of circa 1994 in that segment. Besides the exterior, the interior was also unique from the Corolla, featuring what I felt to be a more appealing driver-angled control layout with pleasingly tactile rotary HVAC controls versus Corolla’s sliding levers. The following 1998 redesign had further powertrain improvements but a big chunk of cost cutting was apparent in interior execution, and neither I or my father thought it the better car.
Thanks for this perspective. It’s interesting how this car’s successor went retrograde. I don’t remember seeing as many of them around as these cars.
Sorry, but gummi bears are gross. They look gross, they taste gross, and they’re usually spelled wrong. At least bears are intrinsically cute; some of these are gummy worms to make them even more gross. Somebody must like them though, because they’ve not only taken over the candy aisle but the vitamin aisle too, replacing chewable tablets. That’s a problem for me, because chewy candies sometimes pull my teeth (or crowns or other tooth substitutes) out. I can barely find adult chewable vitamins anymore; they’ve mostly been replaced by gummie vitamins. The non-chewable tablets are too large for me to swallow and taste terrible if you chew them. I do like jelly beans (aka jelly babies) which temper the soft insides with a hard shell, and Rowntree Fruit Pastilles (a delicious British import sold in U.S. candy stores) which have a powdery coating and tangy innards, though I have to be careful eating them due to the stickiness and the aforementioned tooth-pulling problem).
I had a former in-law (brother’ wife before they divorced) who drove a bright-red Prizm, this one a less-common hatchback style (may have been the previous generation; I can’t tell them apart easily). The NUMMI cars were always bargains because the word never seeped out amongst the masses that they were Toyotas in drag, and sold for lower prices both new and used. The Geo marketing was always muddled – though they would never admit it, they were marketed as small cars for people who had sworn off Chevrolet and GM after a string of losers like the Vega and Citation. As opposed to Saturn, which was marketed as small cars for people who had sworn off Chevrolet and GM after a string of losers like the Vega and Citation. For all the “brand managers” GM hired at this time, they had two lines of cars that competed for the same buyers, which isn’t good brand management. At least Geos were cheap to build being based heavily on Japanese designs from other companies, whereas they spent (and lost) a fortune launching Saturn. Plus there were still a few small economy cars from Chevy and Pontiac (Cavalier, Sunbird, Daewoo LeMans) to self-compete with.
Sorry, but I agree! I simply cannot stand the way this candy gums up between (pun intended) my teeth! I am not willing to try anything, whether candy, vitamins, etc. if it is gummi! 🙂
Like the “Gummi’s” because I never want a lot of them. A little goes along way.
The wholesale replacement of chewables by gummies is one of those things that puts me in an old-man-yells-at-cloud mood.
Another: the replacement of effective, economical dishwasher powder with overpriced, overpackaged tablets and pods.
Excellent examples! You don’t have a lighting-related example?
What about dishwasher liquid? That’s still pretty common. Is powder cheaper? I have to admit we use the pods and find them very user friendly and effective. We buy Costco store brand. I think I figured out once that it was not more $ per wash than typical grocery store liquid.
If I were to grouse about the primary main lighting example here, it’d spoil a future article.
Dishwasher liquid: flat, hard no. I’m not paying for bottled water or generating unnecessary plastic waste.
As for pods and tablets: my washed dishes smelt strongly of detergent, and water sudsed in glasses, despite my faultless new dishwasher. I did an experiment: I put a tablet in a bag and crushed it to powder with a hammer, then measured the powder: 2 tablespoons. That is a massive, wasteful overdose—maybe appropriate for the dishwashers of the 1980s, which used a whole lot more water and were less effective, but much too much for today’s machines. Now I keep a yogurt container under the sink, filled with Finish or Cascade powder. Two teaspoons of powder gets a full, heavily-soiled load completely clean with no residual detergent.
Factoring in that dosage control, my math tilts heavily in favour of powder.
(and this also means I have dishwasher powder around when I need one of its feats of miraculous magic in re laundry)
That’s long been my beef with either dishwasher or clothes washer detergent pods. Recent dishwashers use much less water than old machines, like the Hobart-era Kitchenaids that seem to be indestructible, but the pods are one standard size. Same thing with laundry pods which ignore that fact that my 24″ wide Miele front-loader from the ’90s uses much less water than today’s oversize machines, much less typical American top-load washers from two decades ago that filled the tub to the rim with water. Also, my washer has a convenient detergent dispenser that can’t be used with pods. I use powder for both my dishes and clothes.
The topic of Consumer Reports magazine is a trusty debate firestarter, so let’s have a go: Decades ago, CR bellyached about the likes of a decorative embossed curlicue on the side of a toaster adding pointless frippery with no benefit. That CR would’ve included powders in the rating and filled column-inches by explaining why powder is the wiser choice. But today’s hep, edgy, with-it CR instead justified excluding powders from their ratings by saying most people buy pods or tablets. H’mm, could that maybe be on account of those are the products aggressively advertised and marketed, and up at eye level on the supermarket shelf, d’y’think, maybe?
Yep on that last one.
Put me down as a Gummy Bear fan. I’m kind of picky, though. I like my gummy soft, so I am NOT a Haribo bear lover. I find them too tough, like overcooked chicken (or probably bear, too). Walmart for years sold king size bags of bears, which were very soft and sweet and much, much cheaper than the overpriced Haribo. They used to be Brachs brand, then Walmart brand but they tasted the same. I haven’t looked for them in years, but now that I think about it I’ll have to see if they still have them!
It’s really interesting and apt that you bring up the Geo-Saturn comparison in that they competed for the same market, as a friend had made basically the same comment when I shared this essay on social media this morning. I can still remember the first (?) Geo tagline: “Getting to knowwww youuuu… ♪♫” What does that even mean? I suppose I’ve heard much worse.
And I also like gummi worms. The really tart ones. Me and all of my old dental work. I don’t really have a sweet tooth anymore, but I do enjoy a little candy from time to time.
The “Getting to Know You” adverts were actually one of two marketing campaigns that introduced the Geo brand. GM wanted to try out two completely different ad pitches to see which worked better, so depending on where you lived you got either the sedate “Getting to Know You” or these funkier “no matter what” commercials:
I got the “no matter what” ads for a few months, but they evidently lost out because they were replaced with the “know you” ads within months.
That’s interesting – I don’t remember the “No Matter What” ad campaign at all… but like Joseph, that “Getting to knowwww youuuu” song has never left my head.
That is the Greatest Generation of the Corollizm. I owned one of that gen and another from the next gen, both loaded LE and LSi models with the “big block” optional 1.8L over the base 1.6L. The ’93 was a stick and came off like a mini Lexus (yes I have owned several Lexuses to compare). The build quality was palpable, driveline smoothness, the whole package. The ’98 was “fine” but the cost cutting was clear. I’d love a 1.8L Corolla wagon of that 93-97 gen.
It’s really interesting to read about the apparent cost-cutting of the third-gen Prizms. Cjiguy said the same thing above.
This generation was completely developed during the Japanese asset price bubble, and was actually introduced to Japan in June 1991 prior to the burst. The amount of resources thrown into it was much greater than what followed because the economy was roaring, money was pouring in, and the budget for excellence was in hand. When that ground to a halt in 1992, pretty much all Japanese manufacturers had to significantly change course in how they approached new vehicle development, not just Toyota. Introductions of pretty much anything all-new from Japan after 1994 show this to one extent or another, and it is very much why most people refer to the 1989-1993ish era of Japanese automobiles the “peak”. The following generation was indeed deliberately cost-cut as a result, with a May 1995 introduction in Japan, some two plus years before we received them Stateside. In my experience the 1998 generation was just as durable, but the perceived material richness, sensation of refinement such as the smoothness of switchgear resistance, and minor features like vanity mirror lamps were conspicuously absent. They felt more utilitarian and definitely less sophisticated.
I would agree that the ’89 to ’93 Corolla/Prism’s were the stuff of reliability and quality build. I would also say the same thing about Nissans of those years. My only experience was with a used ’90 Prism that I had bought for my stepson at one point. Other than a timing belt, water pump and new injectors, it served for many miles. Chassis and body rust eventually ended it. I was somewhat impressed by the drivability with only a 1.6 lt. engine. Even with a 3-speed automatic. An easy 30 mpg commuter.
These were the better Corollas, the next gen burned oil if the owner didn’t strictly follow oil change intervals.
Hey. Now you mention it…yeah! They were suddenly a thing, weren’t they. The popular kids had them first, because of course they did, and they lorded it over the rest of us, because of course they did (@ 7:56).
You will steer far clear of the sugarless ones, if you know, even dimly, what’s what.
Spearmint, like it says in the bible.
I’ve never trusted those things.
https://www.forbes.com/sites/samlemonick/2016/10/28/that-time-gummy-bears-gave-everyone-diarrhea/?sh=1ee992483618
🙂
Unbelievable!
HEY!
There’s a fart in every Bear when maltitol is in the ingredients. And, if you eat only ONE SERVING – diarrhea CITY.
As a diabetic, I thought I found nirvana with these and with sugar free Jelly Bellys – but NO – it is better to avoid eating Gummi Bears or other sugar free candy if maltitol is being used as the artificial sweetner.
What I do is check my blood sugar level to see if it low enough for a few REAL Gummi Bears. Then eat the real thing.
Same with many sugar-free flavorings at coffee shops. You will get the “runs” if you drink them.
I liked this piece! The car IS kind of like a big piece of gummi candy. Very, very boring candy. Actually, I find real gummi bears more exciting but excitement was not what this car was ever about. I had a friend with a similar vintage Prizm. It replaced the 1984 Olds Custom Cruiser she inherited from her parents, so that was a major strike against it in my book. Still, like a king sized bag of gummis, it was economical and reliable if a bit bland.
Jon, I’ll bet your friend could go four times as far on a tank of gas in the Prizm versus the Olds, but undoubtedly it was a much less memorable experience!
Oh yeah, infinitely more practical for her needs. But how much is style worth?
I’m under no illusions that normal people would have the same automotive priorities as me:)
I liked the “Geo Storm” and the “Metro Convertible”!
Things I learned today:
1) That NUMMI is pronounced “noo-me”. I’ve always assumed it was pronounced “nummy” – but then again, I wonder if I’ve ever actually used that acronym in actual speech. Probably not.
2) That Gummi Bears originated in Germany.
And truthfully, I’ve never eaten a gummi bear – I’m one of those odd people who doesn’t like sweets at all.
I agree that Geo’s alternate spelling of Prizm was annoying. There would have been nothing wrong with spelling it correctly, and it’s not as if the car was some sort of x-treme or unorthodox-type vehicle that would suit an alternative spelling. Then again, for some reason, I feel that the word prism is often misspelled as prizm anyway.
Eric, after I read your comment, specifically bullet point No. 1, I had to go on the internet / YouTube to double- / triple-check the pronunciation of “NUMMI”. Whew! I’ve mispronounced things and quoted incorrect song lyrics for years. I wanted to make sure I hadn’t done that here. LOL
Joseph, were you getting these?
Those were the ones! Minus that great logo in the upper left. I had saved a “Marshall Field’s” shopping bag for years and have no idea what had happened to it. Going to the beautiful, iconic flagship store on State Street for the first time was just one of the exciting things I remember about the time period in my life when I had first moved to Chicago. Marshall Field’s was like Macy’s (which it later became), and Carson-Pirie-Scott was “Gimbel’s”.
We were one of those who owned a Prizm. We were looking to lease as it was going to be a business vehicle. The salesman at Chevy explained that if I wanted to buy, he’d suggest a Cavalier, but the Prizm was a better lease deal.
Anyway, one and a half years into our three year GM lease, I was rear ended, twice, by the same truck. Stupidly the insurance company didn’t total it because it was within $1000 of book. So it was fixed. About a month after getting it back, we took a family road trip to Charlotte. The rear doors leaked air and water and it was never right. I drove into a Chevy dealer, told them I had driven it up from Florida and I wasn’t driving it home! We traded it in a new Blazer.