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No more Sky Bars? New NECCO owners shut the whole thing down today

The Globe reports.

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Arg. And no Clark bars, either.....#SadNews

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Heartbroken. Those are my favorite Christmas candy.

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of cleaning my cookies for that site!

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Good journalism is worth paying for.

(And don't start with "The Globe is not good journalism." If they suck so much, why do you keep going there?)

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Every other news story I've found online referred to the Globe story. I didn't see anything in the Herald at all.

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Although some wouldn't care if it failed, it would seem.

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I set my browser to clean cookies on exiting it. All cookies are treated as session cookies.

There's also "incognito mode" in Chrome, "private browsing" in Firefox (and probably similar features in other browsers) that don't even save the cookies past closing the tab.

Over the years I've also gotten in the habit of just using "clear recent history" reflexively when I'm "done" with whatever specific thing I'm using my browser for, about as reflexively as one turns off a light or closes a door when one leaves a room. A good habit to get into.

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on Sunday morning, a few dimes and quarters apiece, a little more for the elder kids. I pined for the day when the annual raise would get me to actual paper money like my oldest brothers. After church, we always stopped by this weird local farm supply / garden shop / convenience store, where the whole big brood would pile out of the station wagon so Dad could pick up the Sunday papers and the kids could buy a candy bar or a Yoo-hoo or whatever. For a good couple of years when I was seven or eight or so, the Sky Bar was my favorite. I also regularly bought pumpkin seeds or corn nuts, a slightly weird thing for a kid that Dad taught me to like: sooo salty.

A fond memory, but I bet I haven't had a Sky Bar in 20 years. The last one I had didn't live up to my nostalgia, dredging up an old question: did it go downhill, or did my tastes just evolve past it? It's usually a little of both.

Necco Wafers, despite the chalky texture, I've still enjoyed a few times since those days. (Sault, a cool men's clothing store in the South End, carried all-chocolate rolls by the register: I crunched through one of those a couple years ago.) Always liked the chocolate and the tongue-blackening licorice and whatever flavor that lavender one was (clove, maybe?) the best, in that order. My sisters and I felt really transgressive playing Communion with those. Conversation hearts, despite presumably being made from the same bone meal or limestone base, never moved me.

I have even earlier memories of a different convenience store in another small New England town: the proprietor, a bony, crusty Down Easter, always frightened me slightly just for being about 100 years old. There I spent my meager Sunday allowance on penny candy, including Squirrel Nut Zippers (eventually owned by NECCo). They're like the Empire State Building in that everyone stresses the wrong syllable: Squirrel-Nut Zippers and the Empire State-Building, when it's actually Squirrel Nut-Zippers (originally made at the defunct Squirrel Candy Factory near Kendall Square, now a park), and the Empire-State Building (for obvious but universally ignored reasons).

I also liked the 90s retro-jazz/klezmer/blues band of the same name, shared their annoyance with them being lumped in with the brief swing-band revival that was happening at the moment they finally had a hit. (Or maybe "Hell" and the band would have languished in obscurity if not for lucky timing. Still.)

My other favorites from my pre-kindergarten days included these things that looked like flying saucers, hollow shells of Communion-wafer-like material, filled with chocolate jimmies or multi-colored sprinkles. And those tiny wax bottles you'd bite the top off of and drink the sickly-sweet syrup out of. My siblings liked the candy dots you had to chew off of strips of waxy paper: blech. I liked the dusty, chalky candy cigarettes with the little pink ring on the end to simulate a smoke-coal. Individually-wrapped caramel cremes and Sweet-Tarts. The cinnamon-flavored Atomic Fireballs that were the spiciest, hottest thing you'd ever tasted. Weird what you remember: until tonight, I hadn't thought of any of those things in many years.

Still jamming on the salty snacks to this day. (Recently rediscovered New Bedford's awesome Antoniio's brand of pumpkin seeds, corn nuts and favas, which one can still find all over the South Coast.) Would enjoy a Nut Zipper if someone offered one. Clark Bars, I was happy to get in my Halloween pillowcase, but never bought on my own. Other NECCo products, I didn't support as an adult and won't miss much. Bet on somebody at least keeping those awful, twee candy hearts going: NECCo sold 50 tons of them every year in the run-up to Valentine's Day.

My empathy to the hundreds of local workers who are suddenly out of a job. RIP, the shitty, beloved candy of my childhood.

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Thanks

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I loved those, and I loved those candy dots you could eat off the paper. I also remember those candy lips, fake cigarettes, and the candy necklaces you could buy. Also, remember pixie sticks?

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"I also liked the 90s retro-jazz/klezmer/blues band of the same name, shared their annoyance with them being lumped in with the brief swing-band revival that was happening at the moment they finally had a hit. (Or maybe "Hell" and the band would have languished in obscurity if not for lucky timing. Still.)"

One of my "got aways", from summer 1999, was a girl from North Carolina summering here and doing City Year, and hanging mostly in Harvard Square. I always remembered the Squirrel Nut Zippers patch on her bag. And I always remembered how weird it felt to like to be kinda into someone who was into (what I assumed was) swing music, when I was 100% in street punk and the like, and cross-pollination of scenes was verboten (save for the kids in my orbit dabbling in creepers and Stray Cats era Brian Setzer).

So in short, today I learned that SNZ weren't actually part of the swing revival.

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stylistic breadth, a very 30s-jazz small-combo feel, plus some bluesy stuff, plus some klezmer rhythms, etc. Their big hit had a strong calypso feel to it.

I always felt they had more in common with early Madeleine Peyroux, when she was more of a nerdy 30s-flavored jazzbo, than with the Big Bad Voodoo Daddies and their ilk.

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Our college memories are infused with the smells wafting from the Necco factory on Mass. Ave. by campus. I posted this article on FB tonight and can easily tell which friends went to MIT and which didn't by whether they are lamenting the candy or the olfactory memories.

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my first job in the city, when one of our many bygone candy-makers, maybe an outpost of Schrafft's, was still making some kind of chocolate-covered peppermint patty right across from the T stop. The smell of that candy now evokes a very specific sense of callow first-job anxiety and excitement and optimism in me. It's one of many memories that is vividly tied to scent: I believe it's because the area of your brain that processes those sensations is adjacent to a part that stores long-term memories.

I don't have the greatest long-term memory anymore, but certain smells suddenly, powerfully evoke recollections of very specific times and places from long ago. Rotten leaves: the little pond in the woods where my fifth-grade buds and I set up a tiny ice-hockey rink, with three logs frozen into the ice to form a goal. Gasoline: a fuel stop on the way to a family reunion when I was eight. Some fragrant species of tree: playing with Tonka trucks at the edge of a quiet side street in front of my house when I was five. A particular perfume: my first teenaged fumbling in the dark with a strawberry-blond beauty I was mad for.

I wish I could recall those things at will, am still surprised when a faint whiff of something brings back not just memories, but lucid sensations, emotions. It's all packed in there somewhere in my brain, only gets unlocked when I catch those aromas. A dazzling, nearly heartbreaking thing, and too rare.

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That was the Haviland candy factory across from Lechmere. It had several owners over the years, but ultimately was part of Necco before they sold it (the factory, not the brands) to a developer. I also remember enjoying its scent when getting off the 87 bus to walk to work at Lotus.

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Speaking of smells, what about the aroma of fresh-baked bread from the Stop & Shop bakery as you pulled into the elevated North Station T stop?

Back to Sky Bars--when my mother bought them for me they were a special treat because as I recall they cost a dime when Hershey bars and the like were only a nickel.

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You're on fire today, MC. Great stuff. I was considering sharing a few olfactory memories but you've nailed it and I daren't for fear of comparison.

Suldog
http://jimsuldog.blogspot.com

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I'm a 1990 MIT grad who remembers the factory on Mass. Ave, as well as eating rolls of NECCO wafers at my local movie theater in the 70's while growing up in Manchester, VT.

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Such a sad day.

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Sky Bars last month. They sit in my freezer to be enjoyed, from time to time. It may, for some, be a "shitty" candy bar, but it was one of my faves from childhood and I will eat them with relish and fond memories.

Much more upset to hear about how the employees were treated. I wish them all the best of luck.

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But like you, I am worried about the employees and kind of sad that the era of locally produced candy might be going away.

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to keep the product lines. Right now, no one really knows.

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Other than equipment to make them, it’s the only asset.

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the pink Canada mints. In the late 1960s, when visiting my grandmother in Manchester, NH, my father would take me to a local grocery store. The store would buy the mints in bulk and repackage them in meat trays wrapped in plastic. Getting a package of those mints was always a special treat, and remains a great childhood memory.

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I forgot about those! My father would bring them home (he worked in Cambridge at a machine shop) from work to us (we lived in NH) when I was little in the 1970's.

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The pink ones were wintergreen, the green ones were spearmint, and the white ones were peppermint. Of the three, the pink ones were the best.

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The pink ones were the ones I loved.

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A matrix, maybe 3 x 8?, arranged flat in a shallow, monochrome-and-white-lettering cardboard box, no cellophane wrapper, in the innocent days before some asshole started poisoning Tylenol.

Gonna guess I liked the peppermint best. Same shit as the wafers and hearts, mostly pure cane sugar, like deliciously sweet, minty classroom chalk. Ate a lot of those, had forgotten completely about them.

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Are the new owners actually discontinuing the product lines or just moving their production to another facility elsewhere in the country and closing down the Revere plant?

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"... That, ... is the question."

When Hostess closed someone bought up the product lines and re-instated them out of other production facilities.

Also... this is a ready-made candy factory. Unless they plan to demolish it, only another candy manufacturer will be interested.

Of course, if you close and go out of business -- be it on paper -- it allows one to re-open down the road and hire all new people, of course it is helpful if you have experience. The act also allows for changing job titles and resetting wages lower.

Wait for it.....

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The only article I've found so far that doesn't just rehash the Globe is from the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review. They have a special interest, because the Clark Bar originated there.

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buncha pricks. Hopefully they start production someplace soon and those laid off find work that pays comparably.

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shifting jobs to lower-wage areas. Our mills closed back in the 30s when jobs moved to the South: sorry, Fall River and Lowell and Haverhill. For the last 30 years, it's mostly been about moving low-skilled labor offshore. Once the current inventory runs out, your next candy heart will probably be made in Bangladesh.

The West built the Internet and the supply-chain applications that made large-scale outsourcing efficient and profitable. The current folly is that tariffs can bring those jobs back, when we should be moving to reskill workers for a global economy in which you can never win the race to the bottom on low-skill labor costs -- never mind how robotics is imminently about to undercut many of those countries -- or trying to resuscitate (figurative and literal) dinosaur industries like coal mining when we should be emulating China, investing in the renewables that are clearly the highly-profitable and geopolitically strategic future.

Germany did right by its class of workers that isn't suited for service-industry jobs, building a parallel education track to cultivate good-paying, high-skills manufacturing jobs that can't easily be replicated in third-world countries, and protecting those where necessary. To remain competitive over the next 20 years, we need to arm our workforce with the kind of education and skills that can't be replaced by AI, machine learning, big-data analytics, and robots. For one simple example: work in a fast-casual restaurant? Check out Spyce in DTX, an MIT student project that uses robot chefs, and tremble.

About them AI-assisted robots: they're software, too. Your clerical, administrative, customer-service, IT support, HR, marketing, telesales or writing job may also be toast, the more routine and less driven by judgement or artistic talent, the worse. Those technologies will further cripple our working- and middle-class economy without dramatic action very soon. President Chinese Ugly-Necktie Factory has no goddamned clue about any of that, and that's going to seriously fuck many of the voters who felt left behind by the current global economic reality, and trusted him to improve their lot and that of their kids.

We're facing the prospect of the sunset of America as the world's greatest economic power, and that clueless asshole is watching Fox News for four hours a day and tweeting about the lawyer he once needed to cover up his extramarital dalliances. Don't think for a second that Putin and Xi aren't pinching themselves every day at their luck. (Okay, Putin is thanking his hard work to put Trump in office, not luck, but he's still grinning over every breakfast at the unprecedented weakness and stupidity of this American President as a global adversary.)

If you're not already rather wealthy, and want your children to hold onto some small prosperity in the coming years, encourage them to gain the education, emotional intelligence, and ability to continually learn and adapt that will let them work as a guiding manager and complement to the coming workforce of AIs and hardware and software robots. Many of the working- and middle-class careers of 2018 are going to disappear in their lifetime, and there won't be enough jobs in the trades and elder care to go around.

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