The Freshness Seal

In college, a fellow resident of Babcock Hall known as the Weed-Man -- because his surname was, in fact, "Weed"; I do not mean to imply anything else -- and I were sitting in a lounge or a dorm room or perhaps both, as he and his roommate had more or less opened up their room as an unofficial lounge, computer room, and bar.

But the location is not so important.

The Weed-Man and I, I say, were somewhere, in the same place, and talking.

We were eating Pringles. This is important.

One of us noticed, suddenly, the legend written at the top of the canister:

Look for the Freshness Seal.

The Freshness Seal! But what is this? We discussed various things it could be: anything from a sticker or piece of wax that closed something to an aquatic mammal that personified the essence of Being Fresh.

All we knew is that we had to look for it.

Well, as time went on, we would occasionally compare notes and agree that we were not having much success. The Freshness Seal continued to elude us. Eventually, we both graduated and lost contact with one another. I don't know where the Weed-Man is today, I am sorry to say. I hope he is well.

Today, I noticed something shocking: the can of Pringles in my office says "Look for the Flavor Seal"!

Does that mean that the Freshness Seal has been found? Has the Weed-Man found it? Or someone else -- some dark rival of whom we were ignorant, who is even now using the Freshness Seal for evil, and only by the power of the Flavor Seal can we hope to defeat him?

Or perhaps I, with my past failures, am now thought unworthy to seek the Freshness Seal, and so must be content with a lesser quest.

I do not know, my friends. I wish I did, but I don't.

All I know is that if I were to put a webcam in my office window facing the library steps across the sidewalk, I could make a mint with some sort of upskirt voyeur website. Did no one teach these undergrads how to comport themselves while so clad?