When you were little, summer time was the jam. There was no school, and you got to run around in the back yard like a retarded hummingbird with a Thundercat figure in one hand and a summer snack in the other. But man, summer was fucking hot. When I was a kid in the 80s, I lived in Memphis, TN… and thanks to the Mississippi River being in pissing distance (and really, Memphians probably did piss in it a bunch which would explain the funny smell downtown) it got pretty humid during the summer. My Genera Hypercolor shirts would be a permanent different color around the neck and pits during summer. We needed something to keep our asses cool, and sometimes the Slip N’ Slide just didn’t cut it. Thankfully there were Otter Pops… the 80s summertime nectar of the gods.
Otter Pops came in 6 different flavors (primarily) with their own characters: Louie-Bloo Raspberry, Strawberry Short Kook, Poncho Punch, Sir Isaac Lime, Little Orphan Orange, and Alexander the Grape. After some research, there were apparently other flavors that I don’t recall: Rip Van Lemon, Kiwi Kensie, and Mystery Miles. If memory serves, I was a Little Orphan Orange and Poncho Punch kinda guy. But these weren’t your average freezy-pops. No… they had fucking otters on them, and that increased the taste tenfold. Again, if memory recalls, the syrup in these were a bit sweeter than other freezable pops. The best thing was that you could get a box of 200 for like $5. But it was always a great thing when you had one of these in your hand, especially after spending hours of digging in the dirt with an old spoon and burning fire-ants with your magnifying glass. Your parents would look out the window and see your red-faced ass about to keel over, so they grabbed a life saving Otter Pop and threw it at the back of your head from the doorway and told you to go sit under a tree. You’d sit under that tree eating your Otter Pop and your health regenerated like you just caught a fairy in Zelda, thanking Sir Isaac Lime for saving you from overheating.
Otter Pops were awesome. There’s nothing like being refreshed while tantalizing your taste buds and having a friendly character tell you that weren’t going to die from the sun’s hydrogen-helium death grip. Although looking at the box now, Louie-Bloo seems like he was probably on the registered sex-offender list. But whatever, as long as he doesn’t touch my front-bottom… I don’t care. We salute the Otter Pops and kinda owe our lives to them. The ice cream man only came around once a day, and the Otter Pop was there to make sure we didn’t end up face down in the sandbox from a heatstroke when he wasn’t around. Also, if anyone can find images of the 3 rogue otters (Rip Van Lemon, Kiwi Kensie, and Mystery Miles)… shoot them over. I’m sure the world wants to see their faces.