Jenifer’s Shelter Island Journal: Feb. 26, 2024

Discontinued. 

One of the most hated words in the English language. Who among us has not suffered the sudden shock, disbelief, and eventual despair of learning that a favorite salad dressing, or hair product, or TV series has been “discontinued.”

It’s always a shock because no one ever prepares you — there’s no due process, no jury trial. Instead, for reasons that are never explained, that beloved item is banished, usually forever. Like the Pretzel Shake ‘n’ Bake that brought even my humble pork chops or chicken to a new level.

I relied on that stuff. Then came the day that I looked for it on its accustomed shelf in the supermarket and it wasn’t there. Mildly alarmed, I asked a clerk, who asked another clerk, when it would be in. “Next week,” I think he said. But it was never “next week” for my pretzel Shake ‘n’ Bake. Finally, a month or so later, the head clerk finally uttered that awful word: “I guess it’s been … discontinued.”

No rhyme, no reason, no recourse.

I don’t think I’m the only one who takes this brutal practice of discontinuation personally. It’s happened to me so often, in fact, that I’m afraid to become fond of any product lest it be consigned to product Siberia. I can only conclude that it’s possible, if not probable, that I’m being watched.

I know I’m not the only one. I Googled “popular products that have been discontinued” and discovered all manner of sites created for the sole purpose of providing platforms for those lamenting the loss of an endless variety of products. Here’s a sampling:  Mexican Pizza from Taco Bell; a green rubber toy rabbit called “Bunny Splat;” a microwave egg poacher; and a nylon bristle-brush-suction-cup-mounted backscratcher for the shower.

A particularly poignant post came from R.W. Thomson on quora.com: “The Seven Up candy bar was a 1930s candy made by the Pearson Candy company. It was a chocolate bar that was made with seven unique chambers of different fillings … filled with different flavored fillings over the years, but the mainstay of the candy bar’s flavorings was usually coconut, butterscotch caramel, buttercream, fudge, Brazil nut, cherry cream, and orange jelly …[it] was discontinued in 1979, but still has a very devoted base of fans. This bar was so popular because eating it was always a little bit of a mystery.”

Fascinating, but only one sad casualty in the huge category of canceled ice cream and candy items  including Nabisco’s  “Crème Savers,” Callard and Bowser’s “Altoid Sours,” Good Humor’s “Candy Crunch Center Ice Cream Bars,” Haagen-Daz’s “Black Walnut,” Hershey’s “Bites” and licorice Chuckles.

And always — as with any summarily banished product — the maddening question remains: Why?

In my research, I discovered several sites dedicated to a particularly sorry group, lovely women in the prime of life, brides-to-be, in fact, who, trusting and hopeful, had spent long hours selecting and registering their desired china and silverware patterns only to be coldly informed at some point that one or more of those patterns had been discontinued. Heartbreaking. I know because it happened to me. 

I had chosen Wedgwood’s opulent “Red Damask” china pattern a few months before my first wedding and had received four lovely dinner plates when suddenly, soon-to-be-wedding-guests, (not the company), started informing me that the pattern was discontinued. Hardly a harbinger of nuptial felicity.

The years passed (along with the marriage) and, as a single mother I moved here to the Island with my two daughters. Those beautiful, orphaned plates must’ve been somewhere, but I hadn’t seen them for decades. It hurt too much.

Then, some 20 years ago, the Home Shopping Network was featuring a service-for-12 china set for $49.95 which, in terms of pattern and style, bore a remarkable resemblance to those fancy, fruitless plates, at least from a distance. That set was the last thing I needed, but I ordered it on the spot.

It’s come in very handy when matched china is called for. Festive and good-looking, it’s done faithful service at many a birthday, or anniversary or engagement party. And now it has won a starring role in the upcoming production of A.R. Gurney’s “The Dining Room” (April 26-28 at The Southampton Arts Center; for tickets: 631-283-0967). 

At first, I saw my china’s second career as a back-door vindication against the original’s discontinuation, but then …

If “Red Damask” had never been discontinued, I never would’ve purchased that knock-off Home Shopping version, and I never would’ve even considered allowing my high-born Wedgwood to embark on a life on the stage. Saint-Exupery says, “We are fertilized by mysterious circumstances.” Perhaps, along with other imponderables like infinity, the afterlife, and traffic jams, the mystery of “discontinuation” may have to be accepted as part of a larger plan. 

Or not.