The Economist has a thorough obituary for a man I never thought to blame personally: Robert Rich, the guy who invented the prototype for what’s now known as Cool Whip.

Man, I was a sucker for that stuff when I was little. Because at my house, of course we could only have real cream (yawn), and only with very good dessert, on special occasions. Whereas at my friends’ houses, I could eat Cool Whip every day after school, by the giant spoonful, before it could even find its way to the bowl of ice cream, the kind that was very fluffy and came in those square cartons. And then we’d watch The Dukes of Hazzard and argue over who was cuter, the blond one or the dark-haired one, or we’d dance around while Kenny Rogers sang “The Gambler.”

Boy, those were the days–before I thought to read ingredient lists, and didn’t know quite how chilling the words “whipped topping” were. I’m afraid that Cool Whip is all still in my digestive tract somewhere. I hate to imagine.