Latest news with #ArizonaIcedTea
New York Times
7 days ago
- Business
- New York Times
Can AriZona's 99-Cent Iced Tea Survive Trump's Tariffs?
Don Vultaggio leaned over a table and spun a giant lazy Susan until a 22-ounce can of Arnold Palmer appeared before him. It was 2 p.m. and time for Mr. Vultaggio, the founder and chairman of AriZona Iced Tea, to hold his daily two-hour lunch and board meeting in his Southwest-themed office in central Long Island, N.Y. Behind him was a wall of dozens of bottles and cans from the company's deep roster of products, and a security monitor showing a live feed of the robot-powered storage and retrieval operations of its largest factory, which is in New Jersey. It has been from this perch that Mr. Vultaggio has spent the last few weeks contemplating what he's insisted, for most of his company's three decades of existence, he would never do: raise the 99-cent price of its canned iced teas, AriZona's calling card since 1997. The Trump administration's 50 percent tariff on aluminum imports may leave him no choice. If the price of a tallboy of AriZona Iced Tea had kept pace with inflation, the company would today be selling it for $1.99. Instead, the 99-cent price remains so central to the company's identity that the numbers are displayed on the can boldly and prominently. AriZona uses more than 100 million pounds of aluminum a year for its cans, and about 20 percent of that comes from Canada. Mr. Vultaggio is hopeful that the tariff dispute will be resolved, but if it is not, he said, 'at some point the consumer is going to have to pay the price.' Want all of The Times? Subscribe.
Yahoo
16-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
The Internet Just Discovered Arizona Iced Tea Isn't Actually From Arizona
Fun fact: Arizona Iced Tea wasn't actually started in Arizona. People are just discovering this after @JoelElman tweeted about his own personal Arizona Tea origin journey: "I'm googling this right now before my whole worldview collapses." That's when the beverage confirmed, "we are from New York baby." Their X bio also says it: Related: "We Are VEGETARIAN! We Eat CHICKEN!": Chefs And Servers Are Revealing The Unhinged Orders That Will Haunt Them Forever And their official website says it was started in Brooklyn in 1992. The founder told CNN, "I always associated Arizona with a healthy, clean and dry feel that was different from the Brooklyn feel." Related: If You Can Guess These 12 Dishes Just By Their Ingredients, You're A Culinary Genius Let's just say people are feeling *quite* perplexed by the news. The replies are full of people feeling betrayed, confused, and also upset. "I have been lied to my whole life!" seems to be a common sentiment. This person called it "Arizona appropriation." And another person joked, "Who the fuck lies about being from Arizona." As Stefani Germanotta once said, "It was a perfect illusion." Also in Food: You Can't Be Mad At The Result, Okay? But I Know Your Soulmate's Height, Eye Color, And Career Based On Your Sweet Tooth Also in Food: I'm Sorry, But I HIGHLY Doubt Any Adult Can Name All Of These Food Logos, Despite Them All Being Iconic Also in Food: Most People Won't Be Able To Score 15/15 On This Fast-Food Burger Quiz
Buzz Feed
16-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Buzz Feed
The Internet Just Discovered Arizona Iced Tea Isn't Actually From Arizona
Fun fact: Arizona Iced Tea wasn't actually started in Arizona. People are just discovering this after @JoelElman tweeted about his own personal Arizona Tea origin journey: "I'm googling this right now before my whole worldview collapses." That's when the beverage confirmed, "we are from New York baby." Their X bio also says it: And their official website says it was started in Brooklyn in 1992. The founder told CNN, "I always associated Arizona with a healthy, clean and dry feel that was different from the Brooklyn feel." Let's just say people are feeling *quite* perplexed by the news. The replies are full of people feeling betrayed, confused, and also upset. "I have been lied to my whole life!" seems to be a common sentiment. This person called it "Arizona appropriation." And another person joked, "Who the fuck lies about being from Arizona." As Stefani Germanotta once said, "It was a perfect illusion."
Yahoo
15-04-2025
- Yahoo
Ex-Mass. State Police trooper pleads guilty to driver's license scheme
A former Massachusetts State Police trooper from Wareham pleaded guilty last week for his role in a conspiracy to falsify records to certain people who failed taking their Commercial Driver's License tests, United States Attorney Leah Foley's office said. On Friday, Perry Mendes, 64, pleaded guilty to one count of conspiracy to falsify records, three counts of falsifying records and two counts of making false statements, Foley's office said in a statement released Tuesday. U.S. District Court Judge Indira Talwani scheduled Mendes' sentencing for July 15. Mendes was charged in a 74-count indictment in January 2024. Between May 2019 and January 2023, Mendes and three other members of the Commercial Driver's License unit gave preferential treatment to at least 17 CDL applicants, Foley's office said. Mendes and others gave passing scores to those applicants who took the CDL test regardless of whether they actually passed. The men used the code word 'golden' to identify the applicants, the statement read. Butner texted comments to another co-conspirator: 'Golden mess,' 'Total mess this guy[.] i think some time[s] we should just do what we can but not golden. I'll tell you about it later,' among other messages. Mendes was among several retired or suspended state troopers previously indicted in connection with the scheme. Sgt. Gary Cederquist, 58, of Stoughton; retired Trooper Calvin Butner, 64, of Wareham; Trooper Joel Rogers, 54, of Bridgewater; civilian Scott Camara, 42, of Rehoboth; and Eric Mathison, 47, of Boston, were all named in the January 2024 indictment. Cederquist gave passing scores to several applicants who actually failed the CDL skills test, and others who only took a partial test, federal prosecutors said. He did this in exchange for bribes of free inventory from the water company. The free items included bottled Fiji, bottled Arizona Iced Tea and coffee and tea products. Mathison delivered these items to an office trailer at the CDL test site in Stoughton. Cederquist and Rogers were both suspended without pay. Federal prosecutors said in one case, Mathison admitted to getting texts from Cederquist that described one CDL applicant as an 'an idiot,' who had 'no idea what he's doing,' and 'should have failed about 10 times already.' Cederquist gave this applicant a passing score. On March 21, Mathison pleaded guilty, as did Butner on April 7. The charge of conspiracy to commit extortion provides for a sentence of up to 20 years in prison, up to three years of supervised release and a fine of up to $250,000. DA identifies man killed in late-night shooting in Lynn Ten men charged in Berkshire County child predator sting operation Quincy man guilty of 1st degree murder, killing Dorchester man in 2019 shooting Weymouth man suspected of 'peeping Tom' incident outside apartment complex Charges dropped against men accused of fatal fight at Patriots game
Yahoo
05-04-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
I Spent a Night Out With the Happiest Democrat in America. I Want to See What He Sees.
Sign up for the Slatest to get the most insightful analysis, criticism, and advice out there, delivered to your inbox daily. The final sunset of Ramadan last week found me below a mosque in the Bronx, in a basement cafeteria, elbow to elbow with hungry Muslims awaiting that last fast-breaking meal of the year. It was the first stop on Zohran Mamdani's nightlong mayoral campaign blitz into the robust Muslim constituency that dots New York City. At 33, Mamdani looks less like a politician than like someone's cool older cousin. He held the mic loosely, like a tall can of Arizona Iced Tea. He had, in his typical beaming fashion, been charming and catching voters off guard all night. But here he turned serious. 'In this city and in this country, many people feel like they can say whatever they want about a Muslim in public life, that they can call any of us a terrorist,' he said. 'On this June 24th, we have an opportunity to say that Muslims don't just belong in New York City. We belong in City Hall.' This is what Mamdani does, in a nutshell: He disarms his audience with easy charm and infectious energy, and just as easily dives into the most vexing issues facing them with both force and a smile. It seems to be working. Mamdani is suddenly everywhere. A recent surge of glowing profiles and features have underlined the New York state assemblyman's unlikely No. 2 position in polls for mayor, behind only Andrew Cuomo, the disgraced former governor who leads the race. They tend to point to his acumen online, especially on TikTok—this kind of video is a prime example—and his ambidextrous appeal to different voters despite his unapologetic democratic socialist politics. His fundraising, driven by small donors, has topped $8 million. He is the rare Democrat who is meeting the most stark and uncertain moment in the party's recent history with a message that's both urgent and, against all odds, upbeat. Post-meal, we hopped in a car—though I'm told that Zohran prefers the subway—and sped to Parkchester for our first stop for Chaand Raat, the massive South Asian Eid street festival. Light-up toys flashed in every kid's hands and fireworks exploded overhead while henna artists inked swirling patterns onto excited patrons. I stopped to take in the atmosphere—an enormous display of Muslim pride, from the extra-large neon 'Eid Mubarak' sign to a troop of young girls reciting Quran verses on a huge stage in the intersection. When I looked up again, Mamdani had already melted into the carnival ahead of me, going row by row, shaking every hand he could. A teenager screamed, 'Oh my God! It's the guy from TikTok!' Suddenly, Mamdani was posing for endless selfies like a celebrity. 'I'm excited. And caffeinated,' he told me, smiling. The previous weeks of campaigning through Ramadan fasting had left him depleted, he said; he'd passed out asleep on his couch in his suit a few nights ago. But tonight, he was fully alive. He recited his core campaign promises effortlessly: 'Freeze the rent. Make buses fast and free. Deliver universal child care.' 'I say it so much that voters can finish the sentence,' he said. Soon, he ended up on the large stage yelling 'Eid Mubarak!' to a cheering crowd, where he proudly proclaimed himself to be the first elected Muslim official to run for mayor. A host took the mic afterward, improvising an endorsement to loud applause: 'If we just stick together, all the rights we always complain about—we have to fight for our rights. Inshallah, we will support him.' None of this was planned. From there, the night only ramped up. Our next stop, Jamaica, Queens, was louder, wilder, and much more packed. Music blared from huge speakers where older men belted out Bollywood karaoke. Mamdani jumped right in, clapping wildly, mouthing the words, and then grabbed the mic: 'Remember to vote June 24th!' The crowd roared. Mamdani thrives here, in this joyful chaos. 'I've been coming to Chaand Raat for years,' he said, sweating slightly. 'Our dream has always been to break out of the world of New York City politics and into the world of New York City. We may be the first mayoral campaign that has ever campaigned at Chaand Raat! And that is the dream—to watch uncles sing songs and then take a moment to give the mic over where we can talk about Election Day and then go back to the songs, because that's what life in New York City is. Life is busy. Life is so many things all at the same time.' I continued to struggle to keep up as he ducked into random storefronts to introduce himself. Wherever there was a microphone, Mamdani grabbed it and urged people to vote. He kept disappearing into the street party as he danced his way up and down the block. Along the way, Mamdani listened intently as a frustrated uncle vented about the city denying their permit to close the street. 'Look around, it's crazy out here,' the man gestured, pointing at a city bus inching its way carefully through the bustling, jam-packed street. Mamdani nodded emphatically, echoing, 'Unacceptable.' He leaned toward me and added, 'Muslim voters want the same thing every community wants—respect and equality.' In that moment, Mamdani zagged the way he often does, turning serious and channeling righteous anger. He knows intimately the origins of Muslim New Yorkers' distrust of the government: After 9/11, the New York Police Department rolled out a sprawling surveillance operation targeting mosques, college campuses, students, halal spots, and even neighborhood barbershops. Thousands of Muslims were hauled to jail without charges, some put in solitary confinement for months. The crackdown never turned up any terrorism leads, but it permanently soured relationships between Muslims and law enforcement just as hate crimes surged. 'I've seen firsthand the impacts,' Mamdani said. 'I went to high school with New Yorkers who were entrapped.' Mamdani sees dark echoes in what's happening now with Mahmoud Khalil, a Palestinian former Columbia University student and activist who is currently imprisoned awaiting trial despite never being accused of crime. Mamdani protested the arrest by shouting down Tom Homan, the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement acting director, at the New York Capitol in Albany. 'I would never have sent the NYPD onto Columbia's campus,' Mamdani said. 'That led to a police officer discharging their weapon. It was the least safe that those students have been.' Mamdani's unwavering stance might make an easy target for his rivals when the race heats up. While his solidarity with protesters has drawn cheers from many progressive voters, it has also earned bitter accusations of antisemitism. In a political landscape where that kind of controversy usually spells trouble, Mamdani's willingness to stand his ground might be his riskiest gamble. Indeed, as his profile continued to rise, the New York Post ran a cover story on Wednesday titled 'DANGEROUS MAM: NYers must stop the anti-Israel forces trying to elect radical Zohran Mamdani as mayor.' Unbothered, Mamdani insisted this stance carries a potential for unifying Democratic voters. 'We talk about freedom, justice, safety for everyone, but suddenly we draw lines about who 'everyone' is,' he said. I asked if he is ready to accept that this stance might end up splashed across attack ads. He shrugged it off. 'I'm proud I've always stood for consistency and universal human rights. And plenty of New Yorkers feel the same.' By the time we got to Jackson Heights, the energy was dizzying. More fireworks popped overhead and music blasted from every alley. College kids draped in keffiyehs recognized Mamdani and yelled, 'Say 'Free Palestine!' ' He cheerfully obliged. 'One state or two?' shouted another. 'Equal rights for all,' he answered. The teens burst into laughter, gently ribbing him for his diplomatic answer, and Mamdani smiled back warmly, completely unphased. At one point, he discovered a travel agency storefront blasting live music, slipped inside, and grabbed yet another microphone: 'Vote June 24th!' Before leaving, he spotted a paan vendor selling betel leaves loaded with sweet and spicy fillings. 'This'll get us through the night,' he said, handing them out to his laughing staff. Standing in a circle, they ate in sync. One of them nearly gagged. 'Tastes like incense,' the staffer said. Mamdani laughed uncontrollably. By 11 p.m., I was spent. Fasting had taken a lot out of me, too. But Mamdani looked ready to go until dawn. I asked him the question that inevitably comes up in any profile, no matter how glowing: 'Can you really win?' 'We're nowhere near our ceiling,' he said. 'I'm very excited to keep building this campaign until we win this race, and to show New Yorkers they don't have to choose between the past of a disgraced former governor or the present of a disgraced current mayor. They can choose the future, and that's what our campaign represents.' Mamdani's position in the polls has been impressive. But after the rolling disaster of Eric Adams' mayoralty and Donald Trump's bruising attacks on the city, voters seem drawn to a familiar executive like Andrew Cuomo, despite the sexual harassment and COVID nursing home scandals that drove him from the state's top office. All night, New Yorkers seemed curious about Mamdani but some, particularly ones who've never voted before, remain skeptical about veering into politics at all. One man stopped me as Mamdani bounced ahead into another crowd. 'He's the only one out here meeting people like this,' he said. Would he vote for Zohran? The man shrugged. 'If the right candidate comes along, I'll consider it,' he said with a hint of sarcasm. Who would that be? He smiled. 'I'll know when I feel it.' By then, Mamdani was already gone, clapping, laughing, dancing deeper into the Queens Eid night, fueled with joy and the belief that politics could, at least tonight, be genuinely fun. He seemed sure that voters would follow him.
