Discontinued Snacks and Drinks We Miss from the 80s and 90s

The Surge Incident, 1997

The first time I tried Surge was at my friend Kevin's house. His mom had bought a case because the commercials looked cool - people doing extreme sports, that neon green color, the slogan "FEED THE RUSH."

I drank three cans in about an hour.

I have never been so awake in my entire life. My heart was beating like a drum machine. My eyes were open so wide my forehead hurt. Kevin's mom asked if I was okay and I said "I'M FINE I'M FINE I'M GREAT ACTUALLY" in one continuous stream of words.

That was Surge. Coca-Cola's answer to Mountain Dew, except more. More caffeine. More sugar. More extreme.

I still miss it.

The Drinks That Shaped Us

Every generation has their drinks. For us, it was:

Jolt Cola - "All the sugar and twice the caffeine." This was the choice of programmers and gamers before energy drinks existed. My older cousin Dave, who worked with computers, lived on this stuff. He'd drink them while playing Doom until 3 AM. He's fine now. Probably. Crystal Pepsi - Clear cola. It tasted exactly like Pepsi but was see-through. This blew my mind as a kid. Why was it clear? How was it clear? Was it healthier? (It wasn't.) The Van Halen commercial made it seem like the most important product launch in human history. It lasted about a year. Orbitz - Okay, this one was weird. A clear drink with little edible balls floating in it, like a lava lamp you could drink. The balls were supposed to make it fun. They made it terrifying. I tried it once. The sensation of drinking something while solid objects bumped against your lips was too strange to repeat. OK Soda - Coca-Cola tried to market a drink specifically to cynical Generation X teens by being intentionally uncool. The cans were gray and had weird art. The slogan was "Things are going to be OK." I thought it was the most brilliant thing I'd ever seen. It failed spectacularly.

The Snacks That Haunted Me

Dunkaroos were currency at my elementary school. The vanilla cookies were fine, but the rainbow sprinkle frosting was everything. I'd eat the frosting first, using my finger when the cookies ran out, then scrape whatever remained stuck to the plastic container. 3D Doritos arrived in 1998 like a transmission from the future. Hollow, puffed, canister-shaped packaging. My friend Eric discovered you could fill them with cheese dip, like edible cups. We thought we were geniuses. They vanished in 2004 and took a piece of my heart with them. PB Crisps were peanut-shaped snacks filled with peanut butter - my daily after-school ritual until 1995 when they disappeared without warning. I still think about them more than I should.

Breakfast Was Better

Saturday morning meant cereal, and we had cereals that would probably be illegal today.

Oreo O's turned your milk chocolate. My mom saw that milk, said "absolutely not," and I never saw a box in our house again. But for one glorious week at my grandma's house, I lived like a king. French Toast Crunch - little maple-syrup-flavored pieces shaped like tiny French toast slices. They brought this back in 2015 and I'm not ashamed to say I stockpiled boxes in my basement.

Fast Food Mysteries

Did you know McDonald's made pizza in the 90s? They did. It took forever and tasted like a school cafeteria pizza that got lost on the way to McDonald's, but it existed. Nobody believes me when I tell them.

The Wendy's Superbar was unlimited pasta, salad, and Mexican food for like five bucks. In a Wendy's. Food safety killed it eventually, but for a brief moment, you could eat infinite taco meat from a Wendy's hot bar and nobody stopped you.

The Ones That Keep Me Up at Night

Jell-O Pudding Pops had this perfect frozen texture - not ice cream, not popsicle, something magical in between. The swirl ones were my summer obsession. Bubble Jug was powdered gum in a tiny jug that you dumped directly into your mouth. This was a real product. Real companies made it. Real parents let us buy it. The 90s were different.

Why They Left and Whether They'll Return

Here's what I've learned as an adult: companies don't care about our nostalgia. They care about money. When stuff doesn't sell, it dies.

But sometimes - if enough of us yell loud enough - they bring things back. French Toast Crunch returned because people wouldn't stop asking. Dunkaroos got a 2020 revival.

So I keep hoping. Somewhere, in some corporate office, someone is running numbers on PB Crisps. Somewhere, a marketing team is debating 3D Doritos.

And somewhere, there's a former kid like me who just wants one more package of Dunkaroos with rainbow sprinkle frosting, eaten the same way we ate them in 1993: frosting first, dry cookies second, childhood forever.