It was silly. It was inconsistent. It was impossible to read in the dark.
Tucked inside every comic, between the bad puns and the offer for a "Secret Agent Decoder Ring," was a box. Inside that box was a . And next to that fortune was a squiggly line of gibberish.
Depending on the decade, the printing plant, or the alignment of the stars at Topps Company headquarters, the icons meant different things. In the 1950s, a "sailboat" might be the letter S. In the 1970s, it might be a period. bazooka joe code
Did you ever actually own a working Bazooka Joe decoder ring? Or did you just guess the symbols? Let me know in the comments below!
So the next time you see a dusty box of Bazooka at a retro candy store, buy it. Don't chew the gum (seriously, it’s like chewing a candle). Just look at the comic. Find that little box. And remember a time when a secret code only required a piece of gum, a dream, and a complete disregard for dental hygiene. It was silly
The "Secret Code" turned a $0.05 piece of stale gum into an interactive puzzle. It forced you to buy another piece tomorrow to see if the symbols changed. (They usually didn't, but the hope was there.) One of the most fascinating things about the Bazooka Joe Code is that there was no single code.
But for 60 years, it was .
You read the adventures of Bazooka Joe and his gang (Mort, Herman, and the perpetually eyepatched "Jersey" Joe). But you weren't just there for the jokes. You were there for the .