September 12, 2006:
Jones Soda always had its cult following, but the company used the holidays to transform itself to a walking, talking viral campaign. Beginning with "Turkey & Gravy" soda, a product developed as a sheer novelty that caught on so hard that even news outlets had no choice but to pay tribute, Jones later used every big holiday imaginable, from Christmas to Valentine's Day, as an excuse to come out with more balls-first crazy soft drinks. And here's the real kicker: Nobody cares if they're any good.
Halloween is no exception to Jones Soda's holiday attacks. Last year, the company released four spirited flavors, sold in baby-sized cans with creepy graphics. The flavor choices were odd and the food dyes used to make them even odder, but to be honest, I really didn't give them a fair shake in last year's review. I didn't chill them enough, and frankly, after drinking things like "Brussels Sprout Soda" from Jones, I just figured that all of their holiday offerings were meant to be disgusting.
I'd hoped I would have a chance to give them a more objective review this year, and lo and behold, Jones Soda has come out with twice as many new Halloween flavors as anyone could've anticipated.
The mini-cans are back, and joining "Candy Corn" from last year's batch are three new flavors, or maybe that's one new flavor and two repeats given new names. Jury's still out. Less debatably amazing are the three new bottled flavors, marking what's probably the first time Jones Soda has ever rewarded Halloween with its own swank glass bottle editions. Considering the flavors, one can assume that the cans are meant for kids, and the bottles -- with flavors easy to consider as mixers -- for adults. Fortunately for me, I am both of these things.
Best part is, these holiday Jones Sodas are an easy thing to rally behind as one of your new yearly traditions. They've done well, they've been marketed well, and even people who forget that Jones Soda exists during off-months can't keep from blogging about them. So long as there's a Jones Soda company, there will be new Halloween flavors. This I command.
Below are my honest appraisals of each flavor. The reviews are being written pretty much live, with me grabbing each particular can or bottle from the fridge just before sipping and jotting. Isn't that incredible?
Spider Cider: It's possible that "Spider Cider" is simply a renamed edition of last year's "Caramel Apple," but I'm not too sure. Picture a dash of seltzer in a glass of apple juice, and that's what Jones has managed to create here. As I'm judging the flavors simply on whether I'd voluntarily drink them if nothing else besides water was available, I'm going to give "Spider Cider" a thumbs up. I'd make it sit in the corner with a dickhead dunce cap on if there was a Coke in the room, but if I already drank the Coke...c'mere, baby.
You'll be surprised by how natural the apple flavoring tastes. If Sesame Street ever gets hip, they'll swap out that shit on how to make 10,000,000 orange crayons in favor of a new "How Do They Do That?" vignette -- about how Jones Soda makes something taste exactly like apples without using any apples.
Gruesome Grape: See, I'm not the right person to be talking about this. Not at all. I hate grape soda. Like, you could hold a vial containing the cure to my rare disease against my face and offer it to me only on the condition that I drink a glass of grape soda, and I'd still sit there and die because, well, no fuckin way dude. There have been rare occasions where grape soda touched my tongue, and remembering those experiences tells me that "Gruesome Grape" tastes just like any other grape soda on the market. It's totally carbonated, totally fruity on a deep level, and totally purple.
My misgivings with grapes aside, this is probably the standout of the 2006 mini-cans, because it's the only one that's definitely not a rerun. I really like the can. All of the Jones Soda Halloween mini-cans have pumpkin faces, but "Gruesome Grape" has the only one I could actually carve correctly. I'm always willing to get behind something I can master.
Candy Corn: I'm not a fan candy corn, and that's not a new thing. Either is Jones Soda's "Candy Corn" flavor, which came out last year and promptly made me want to burn the company's building down. Now that I've had a chance to try it with a forcibly more open mind, I can confirm that "Candy Corn" soda is sick and twisted, and it deserves to die many horrible deaths. I hate hate hate this shit. I didn't read last year's review before giving this a swig, but what I wrote then still rings true: "It tastes like something that came out of a bottle of Orange Slice left open in the background since 1992." That's what it's like -- really, really flat soda. Subjectivity aside, I think that after two straight years of saying that this stuff sucks, it must really suck.
I also talked about the soda's strong color dyes last year, and they're just as impressive twelve months later. This stuff is yellow in ways that make piss look black. And it...will stain...anything. Jeans of mine, washed twice since a late day spill, are still going to make me look incontinent this week.
Berried Alive: Probably a reissue of last year's "Scary Berry Lemonade," this is the flavor that will drive children wild, because wild children love drinking things that are blindingly blue. "Berried Alive" is this year's cleverest name, and yet, it's so obvious that I'm sure someone high up at Jones smacked his head two weeks after "Scary Berry Lemonade" cans went into production last year, only then realizing what a cooler name "Berried Alive" would've been. Finally, he's had his day.
The soda is unforgivably tart, but with the unmistakable taste of candy candy candy. Not any candy in particular, mind you. It's just...candy. It's also one of those drinks that you can't chug a lot of, because it coats your stomach with whatever causes stomachs to be in pain. I don't think kids will mind that, but even as someone who can't give it more than a few sips, I do appreciate its ability to make my tongue feel like I'm doing the 9-volt-battery-on-my-tongue trick.
Now that I've tried the 2006 mini-cans, I can admit that I was a little harsh in last year's reviews. Really, these drinks are supposed to be a bit weird. There's a lot of stuff we eat during the Halloween season that we couldn't possibly make a daily ritual, so while I still consider these cans as things I more just want to have around than actually want to drink, they're perfect for ghoulish galas. Except "Candy Corn." That one...BLAM.
Time to see how the bottles fared. Just so you know, I'm probably going to say they rule even if they're terrible, because I love the way the bottles look and it's going to affect me.
Lemon Drop Dead Soda: I'll be damned...this stuff is great! If you went to college for fifteen years and got so addicted to Mike's Hard Lemonade that the courts ordered you to stop drinking it, this is a good weaner-offer. It tastes just like Mike's Hard Lemonade, save for that extra bit of "hardness" that makes you feel icky after the second bottle. As for an alcoholic accompaniment to "Lemon Drop Dead Soda," I think I'm gonna go with gin. This is easily the tastiest of all the 2006 Jones Soda Halloween varieties. Lemon Drop you so get the trophy.
Creepy Cranberry Soda: With more genuine sugar than previous Category: Cranberry Jones Soda holiday offerings, "Creepy Cranberry Soda" ends up being perfectly acceptable. I'm not the world's biggest vodka fan, but this would so have great sex with vodka. I'm amazed at how well cranberry translates as a carbonated soft drink. When I have something like, let's say, cranberry wine, I throw up with such force that I could easily spell "Eat Lead Tracy" on a nearby wall if I tried. You wouldn't think cranberry could work so well as a soda, but it does. It took me forever to finish this paragraph, because swigs were more attractive than completed sentences.
Monster Mojito Soda: "Berried Alive" was the most colorful and "Lemon Drop Dead Soda" was the best-tasting, but make no mistake, "Monster Mojito Soda" is this year's Hulk Hogan. The mojito cocktail has risen to ultrafame in recent times, not so much because it's a wonderful drink, but because people love to say it and love to know how to spell it. "Mojito." What a fun word.
I didn't think they'd pull this off, but again, it's another Halloween Jones Soda fighting for the forces of good. It kinda tastes like a lime version of "Lemon Dead Drop Soda," and if I have to use the word "soda" one more time in this article, it is your fucking head. The fact that it's colorless -- or colorless if you don't count "opaque white" as a color -- adds to the mystique, and all told, "Monster Mojito Soda" is the...actually, I don't have a payoff to that "all told" business. I just wanted to write "mojito" again.
So, the bottled flavors are terrific, but there's just one catch: Cranberries, lemon drops and mojitos aren't exactly "Halloween flavors." If Poland Spring slaps orange labels around its babies and calls them "Wicked Waters," it doesn't really mean that they deserve statues erected in Salem. Then again, the only reason I'm pointing that out is because I feel this article has been too positive overall. Bitchy sells, ya dig.
