Few people write songs about pizza and beer, chocolate and peanut butter, or gin and juice. Foie gras and Sauternes? Forget it.
Yet dozens--just a rough estimate--of hits and near hits have referenced the combination of tooth-decay inducing sugar water and tooth decay-inducing chocolate-covered marshmallow creme-filled cookies that became a Southern favorite.
Which reminds me: What's a good pick up line in Alabama? "Nice tooth."
Sorry...Anyway, for such an iconic combination, it's odd that no one seems to know how--or why--the RC Cola and MoonPie were brought together in the first place..
Most likely it was a slick marketing ploy--one company or the other paying lyricists to scratch out a tune, but that's speculation on my part.
The known facts are as such: RC Cola was created in that burst of early 20th century creativity that gave us several other soft drinks, though the brand didn't really make its mark until a few decades later. MoonPies first hit the shelves during World War One, the product of a Tennessee bakery.
Nostalgia writers will tell you the large size of RC bottles, the heft of the MoonPie and the price of both made them Depression-era staples. They will also point out how the combination of cheap cola and cheap snack became popular during the post World War Two boom years--the Eisenhower years, to be specific. By the early 1960s, the pairing was considered part of Southern lore, a pleasure from some previous generation.
Something curious about that account. Oh, well--both cocktails and food are subject to origin myths.
Now, I've never personally met anyone who dined on the two--at least not at the same time. But I did have a collection of RC Cola cans from the late 70s decorated with baseball stars. I had Ralph Garr, Thurman Munson, Bobby Grich, John Montefusco and others. But for some reason I could never get my hands on a Lou Brock can.
And why else would you spend good money on RC Cola?