I had to break the news to my mother last night. Mr. Peanut is gone, sacrificing himself to save the lives of others.
She looked at me, a bit sad, and said, “I remember Mr. Peanut. He used to come to town every summer and parade around. You could always tell when he was coming. You could smell him.”
Wait… smell him?
Apparently, Mr. Peanut would arrive each year and bring some of his friends… other peanuts that would be slowly roasted and handed out to the waiting crowds… for a small charge.
Fresh roasted peanuts were a thing. It was never part of my life, which makes me a bit jealous. Sure, maybe my parents had to walk to school through six feet of snow, uphill, both ways, but they also got fresh roasted peanut served up by a cool mascot. Not a bad trade, in my mind.
But my mother spoke of Mr. Peanut with the same sort of reverence used for people like Babe Ruth, who would also show up occasionally and sign autographs. Only Mr. Peanut seemed a bit more special, because he brought food.
But you just don’t see a lot of mascots these days. Mr. Clean is about the only one I can think of that still makes regular appearances. There area few others that show up from time to time, but not on the street, and not with fresh roasted peanuts.
Is Mr. Peanut really gone after being with us for one hundred four years? Or will he somehow make a comeback during commercial breaks in a certain football game? We’ll have to wait and see. But we could still use a few more advertising mascots. One’s that show up on the streets of our towns. With food.
