Articles of Mastication

Thoroughly Un-Vigorating

I used to drink a LOT of coffee before I tried Viso. But since moving to Portland last year and discovering the amazing properties of this locally produced energy and vitality beverage, I’ve cut back to four cups of coffee a week or less. Not only does Viso contain the full recommended daily allowance of vitamins and minerals, but four of its eight flavors also deliver a 300-milligram payload of pure, naturally derived caffeine - and no jitters. I would venture a guess that workers in Portland’s bar and restaurant industry are at least 80% responsible for the success of the beverage since it almost entirely eradicates any vestige of hangover within minutes. Verily, Viso is amazing stuff that tastes great, and its inventor, Alex Ilica, has been on my Christmas Fruitcake list since I began drinking it. But I now reluctantly consider removing his name from that very short list of recipients…

When I stopped at the Plaid Pantry on NW 23rd for my daily dose of Viso Vigor yesterday, I couldn’t find the familiar blue bottle you see pictured above. The lemon, lime and strawberry-flavored Vigor is the best-selling variety of Viso - and my personal favorite - so I assumed that the stock had been depleted. When I asked the cashier if there were any in the back, she informed me that Viso would now be coming in a can, and that Vigor was the first flavor to get rotated due to its high-performing sales. I went back and located the new arrival in the Viso family, and at that moment a vaguely unsettling emotion registered deep within my psyche. I couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but I managed to make it to the cashier, settle up and then step outside to enjoy my vitamins in the sun.

I popped the tab and tilted the can to my mouth. The unsettling feeling deepened as the cool liquid washed over my palate. This Viso Vigor tasted… incorrect. I looked on the side of the can to find that Vigor’s formula is now bereft of the balancing tartness of natural lime flavor, without which lemon and strawberry are kind of clueless. I looked around the parking lot for something black to affix to my arm in solemn public mourning. What’s more, the can imparts… How you say? A metallic flavor? The rationale for the shift in packaging is attributed on the can to improved environmental friedliness, as cans are apparently softer on the environment than plastic bottles. This may be true, but what of the environment in my mouth, where my taste buds are located?

The assault on the senses doesn’t stop there. Not only does the new canned Viso Vigor taste like Aluminum with Strawberry Nothing, but it comes in a yellow can. Yellow is a high frequency color that roots into the hidden corners of the awareness like a badger digging into a rotting log full of honey. The walls of some eating establishments are painted in a shade I refer to as Pissss Yellow to promote faster table turnover. Patrons are subconsciously rattled by the high-frequency hue, and so they are propelled by an mysterious impulse to eat briskly, pay their tab and escape the unsettling feeling of which they cannot locate the source.

“How fortunate, ladies! Your table has just come available and you shall wait no longer to enjoy a light repast of chicken salad on toast in our bright, breezy hall of nibbling. Leave your worldly cares at the podium and follow me…”

To me, yellow is a direct affront which cues my fight-or-flight response. I abhor the color yellow nearly as much as I loathe filthy, screeching baboons, and its presence on walls, drapes, floors or cans immediately causes me to scan the environs with a furrowed brow for whomever is responsible. I cannot ride in yellow cars without needing to be forcably restrained to the seat and blindfolded.

And the fact of my daily energy and vitality drink coming in yellow cans would be bad enough, but the text on the can has been amped up as well. Now Viso Vigor in a can recalls a particularly discomforting episode of Three’s Company. What was previously for me a positive lifestyle change in highly quaffable beverage format is now a dubious lifestyle accessory for  hipsters in skinny jeans?

Observe:

But I really shouldn’t trifle over package design when the product within is a functionally superior nutritional supplement. I forgot to mention that the new, improved Viso is now made with organic fruit juice. Natural flavoring for Vigor is derived solely from organic strawberry and Meyer lemon juices. But no lime…

I understand the need to remain dynamic in business to capture and retain the fleeting American attention (which I probably lost after the 300th word of this post). I understand that cans are cheaper to package beverages in and easier to recycle. I understand that a yellow can will subconsciously inspire people to drink Viso Vigor more quickly and get rid of the can. And I hope that in addition to the organic improvement in the recipe, the developments in packaging will move Alex Ilica’s vision forward in health, environmental awareness and prosperity. I really do, because with all of its healthful and stimulating benefits, Viso is still a superior beverage in a market saturated with undernourishing, artificially flavored run-off.

But I may have to switch to green tea and multivitamins. Viso Vigor just doesn’t taste right anymore.

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