Flea markets are replete with old Coke trays and posters. The 10-ounce Coke bottle is a paragon of American pop art.

Russians drink Pepsi, Americans drink Coke.

FURTHER, the real reason for Pepsi's recent market surge can be spelled M-I-C-H-A-E-L.

Taking a cue from the old, familiar "I'd like to buy the world a Coke" theme. Pepsi bought the world a superstar. And ever since Michael Jackson and Lionel Ritchie have been plugging Pepsi on TV to starry-eyed youngsters, sales have been up.

But like Pepsi, Jackson and Ritchie are fads--flashes in the pan "Thriller" is no American classic, but Coke is.

To compete in the short term. Coke has only to hire an androgynous superstar of its own.

"This is Prince and I would die for you, so believe me when I fell you Coke, the official soft drink of short, sexually ambiguous Minneapolis rock stars, is it."

Well, on the other hand, maybe Coke is right to sit tight with its present spokesman, the incomparable Bill Cosby.

After being off the air for a long time, Cosby came back to prime time last fall and his sit-com vaulted into the top spot in the Nielsens midway through the season.

Nothing sells like quality.

It's a lesson in patience Coke could learn. But rather than sit back and count on what may be the greatest product in manufacturing history. Coca-Cola's pouring sugar into America's soft drink.

Coke is due to turn 100 years old next year, but it's a birthday it'll never be able to celebrate.

It just died.