Raisin Hell

Life, October 7, 1940

...These Sun Maid Raisins sure taste swell!
But is that any reason
To use them randomly, committing
Culinary treason?

A sticky icky raisin brick
From the Sun Maid box you'll fish
In order to enliven roasts
And any plain old dish

That may be sitting unsuspecting
On the counter, ready
To serve to diners who don't know
There's raisins in their spaghetti*

And in that fancy cheese souffle
And also in Mexican rice
Sure, stick some raisins in each course
Because they're really nice -

Now, in fruitcakes and in puddings
And in pies, you should be able
To add some dehydrated grapes
And stick them on the table

But salads? Souffles? Sandwiches?
All raisin free, I beg.
On this, grinning Sun Maid heads can't stand
Upon a single leg.

* Yes, the ad up there is suggesting that we put Sun Maid raisins in spaghetti. Also in meat loaf, cheese souffle, salads and sandwiches. And Mexican rice. Ugh.

The Floor Show and the Critics

Graphic Design TJS Labs

Oh sure, now I can polish my floor without rubbing.

But apparently there is a price to pay for that. I seem to be on display to any snoopy old snobs who happen to wander into my house.

How on earth did Mr. and Mrs. Sneering-Codger get in? I'm pretty sure I locked the door when I came home after buying this very floor wax.

I guess they brought along that gold-plated heirloom lock-picker that Esmeralda Sneering-Codger was bragging about down at the Piggly Wiggly. I don't think she really shops there, it's not fancy enough for her, she just follows me around and tells me what to buy. And shows me all the expensive stuff she carries in her purse.

Anyway, I wasn't in a very good mood to begin with. It was one of those days, full of burnt toast and soured milk and the last thing I felt like doing was the wretched floor but someone has to do it and oh, guess what, it turns out to be me! Catch Harold doing it? No sir, he's too busy polishing his hair with Brylcreem.

Now if only this Old English stuff makes the floor really really shiny - and slippery - maybe I could just show my guests out...the quick way.

Uncle Matt and the Meatball

Life, August 5, 1940

I usually try to find a hilarious (sort of) title for posts on my own, but this lovely ad from 1940 (bigger version here) already had a title that I couldn't improve upon. Perfection. Just like Millie's dinner dilemma and its thrilling outcome.

Gee, I was mad! Joe's Uncle Matt invited himself to dinner at the last minute.

Sing it, sister. I would be, too. But I guess I'd just serve Uncle Matt what we were going to have anyway. Hope you like leftover chili, sir. But Millie decides to go All Out with Birds Eye this, that and the other: Birds Eye chopped meat made into meatballs (big surprise!), Birds Eye frozen spinach, and Birds Eye wax beans. Why, Millie loves Birds Eye so much she even appears to have a Birds Eye plaque up on her wall. Maybe Biff put up the painting of Uncle Matt next to it.

But I don't know why she's so darn happy that Uncle Matt is a man about whom one says not "He is so much fun" or "Oh Biff, look at the nice bottle of wine your uncle brought" but "Gee, can that man put away food!"

Result, aside from everyone talking about the merits of Birds Eye all evening? Uncle Matt declares that he is coming to Sunday dinner every week from now on. Millie, you really should have just dished out a scoop of last week's chili.

Fred and Antiknock Ethyl

Life, Feb. 3, 1947

Well, there are some mighty strong opinions flying around about Ethyl. Never mind. Everybody smile! And hold up the stuff you've been getting Ethyl to clean for you.

Ethyl is not some poor lady who lives down the hall from Lucy Ricardo and has to cope with Fred Mertz. No, Ethyl is a Cleaner full of Chemicals. And if you take a look at the container in the ad - well, it looks like it belongs in the garage. Not in your sink or washing machine.

[Short research break here...]

Popular Science, Aug 1943

Apparently, in the 1940s, the Ethyl Corporation (which is still around, see here) was mainly known for selling Ethyl gasoline to service stations. This explains the car-polishing man in the Bing Crosby hat whose folksy "I think you're both right!" has averted a neighborhood feud fought with frightening smiles, easy-to-throw plates and sopping-wet woolens.

The Ethyl Corporation also made "Ethyl fluid" to put into regular gasoline "to prevent knocking." Note: this does not mean Ethyl is going to prevent Fred Mertz from knocking on the door dressed up in something he found in that old vaudeville trunk of his, ready to do a little song-and-dance number for Ricky's new revue down at the Tropicana. You can't stop Fred when he's in one of those moods. He's a free spirit, don't you know! The only known free spirit who wears trousers belted under the armpits.

Equally unrelated to gasoline is the "What's In A Name" booklet you could have ordered from Ethyl and friends in 1943 (above right).

On your left is a lovely antique gasoline pump decorated with Ethyl's mark of approval (this is from Wikipedia). That antiknock fluid was full of pollutants, I'm sorry to say. I can't imagine what was in the dishwashing compound, but - I didn't see any ads after 1947, so I dfon't think it was on the market for very long.

All of which is just another reason that it's just better to let the Mertzes get up on stage and have at it. You know they're going to find a way to sneak into the Tropicana anyway.

On Greasy Street

Popular Mechanics, July 1935

Never mind freelance writing. Just think of all the money I could be making in my kitchen with this incredible potato chip business. Look how happy the woman in the ad is.

It looks easy enough. First I have to "install the wonderful new machine." It appears to be a large tin box with a potato peeler attached to the side. Oh sure, that'll fit in my little kitchen. Unfortunately, the only place I have room for it is where the table and chairs are now. You know, where we eat meals.

Oh, never mind. No one will object, I'm sure - not when they realize how much money we are going to be pulling in! They can just eat sandwiches, standing around the box. Admiring it. Maybe even watching me make "Greaseless" Potato Chips.

Maybe I will even throw a "Greaseless" Chip or two on their plates. So, there will be fine dining and big, big profits. 

Do not call them "Greaseless" Chips when you are selling them. You must call them "Hi Hat Chips." Why? No one knows, really. Oh, and mind the hot oil that we're cooking them in. No, it isn't grease. It's -"grease." And also, we are going to extract the oil from the chips. Somehow.

This amazing 1930s-era opportunity comes to you direct from the retro capital of weird ventures - where else but - Chicago! Yes, just hit that "Retro Chicago" tag below for a whirlwind tour of everything from cake shampoo to exciting detective work - all courtesy of the Windy City. I am absolutely going to write a retro-ads guidebook to Chicago, one of these days.

Eating Your Hat

TJS Graphic Design Labs

It's easy to create menu magic, to turn even the simplest dishes and dinners into feats of appetizing color and flavorful goodness, when you serve fruits and vegetables that are Freshness Controlled.

Everything is controlled here, all right. The string beans are lying down straight, terrified. The corn-filled tomatoes are strategically placed at each corner, guarding everything, making sure that the hard-boiled eggs don't try to make a break for freedom.

And then there's the pièce de résistance: a Vegetable Hi-Hat.* Yes, here is the phrase "I'll eat my hat " come to life. But do we really want to eat this particular hat, made of "vegetable loaf" and boiled white rice, with cherries and pineapple rings stuck into it, topped with hard boiled eggs? No, we do not. And let's also hope that "menu magic" does not include attempting to pull anything out of this hat.

More hi hats in the kitchen next time - and the hat association in this case is quite bizarre.

*The hi hat here is, of course, a "high hat" and not the cymbal and stand called a hi hat today.

Ale Be Seeing You

Vintage Ad Browse

The young Colonel went up in the air and the world went with him...PICKWICK is something else again but its flight of popularity has covered every corner of the nation.

Even in the 1920s, the advertising people were trying to make the consumer feel like a super-active superhero just by sitting in an armchair and swigging ale. Ale is a slightly sweet, fruity, full-bodied type of beer made with malted barley and hops (more about ale right over here).

Pickwick Ale was among the most popular beers brewed by Rudolf Haffenreffer (whose tiny Wikipedia entry is here) at the Naragansett Brewing Company of Rhode Island. Pickwick was later made by the Falstaff Brewing Company (lots of Haffereffer info and a picture of a Pickwick bottle over there). In 1999 they started making Pickwick Ale again, so you too can pretend to be Lucky Lindy making aviation history.

Almost a disembodied head, but not quite, Charles Lindbergh's cartoon alter ego sails into the sky in a miniature version of the Spirit of St. Louis - in this case, I guess it's the Spirit of Pickwick Pale Ale, really. The enormous Lindbergh Head looks happy, despite the Moe Howard haircut he has just had courtesy of a Three-Stooges-inspired barber armed with a gigantic mixing bowl.

I doubt that he's going to get across the Atlantic like that, though.

The Partified Forest

Life, Oct. 4, 1943 [big version here]

If you are having a party, then you must partify. Oh, haven't you heard about this verb? No? Well, it involves Jell-O. Of course it does. Because nothing says "fancy" like a box of Jell-O.

Potato salad on its own, for example, is very boring. Add lime gelatin and a lot of deviled eggs and some yellow sauce on top (I couldn't figure out what it was, they don't say in the recipe). And voilà - it is partified! Or possibly petrified. One or the other.

For added uneasiness, garnish with one singing disembodied head (this one is singer and radio personality Kate Smith). Yes, another eerie, floating head! They seem to keep popping up in these old ads. I am definitely including some of these in my novel because they make me laugh and then, on further reflection, seem very weird and strange. A perfect combination, in other words.

Title - which was nearly "Lime and Again" (an equally almost-but-not-quite title as "The Partified Forest") - from the 1936 movie The Petrified Forest, which just happens to be set in a diner. Where they may have served frightening gelatin molds. It would make sense artistically, I think. Take a look at the movie poster: Bette and Leslie have the exact expressions of guests who have just been confronted with Humphrey Bogart and Party Potato Salad.

A Thrilling New Tooth Powder

Life, Sept. 13, 1937 [big version here]

Do you ever get bored with everything...the same old things every day?

Um, yes. Yes, I do! How did you know? I am tired of getting up and doing the same things every day: working, cleaning things that just get dirty again, cooking the same old dinners, and don't get me started with what's on television... 

Right now, I'm sick of using the same old tooth powder.

Oh, right. Tooth powder. That's toothpaste's dry boring ancestor. Back in the 18th and 19th centuries, tooth powder (also called dentifrice) would have been made of things like salt, or powdered chalk or brick or even charcoal. And in Britain tooth powder might have meant crushed-up cuttlefish bones or china! The cuttlefish bone mixture was sold as "white coral-powder" in the 1870s. Frightening, don't you think? Now in the up-to-date 1930s, you could always have used some baking soda to brush with, I suppose - but that wasn't exactly peppy, is it?

Just like pearls maybe, but not thrilling (Vintage Ad Browser)

Well, brace yourself, dear. There is a new one. LISTERINE TOOTH POWDER made without soap.

Wow, without soap! That really is good news. My teeth will be thrilled. They are tired of all those suds. And foaming at the mouth is not my best look, really.

Yes, this is going to change my whole life. I know it. Just promise me that Listerine Tooth Powder doesn't have any cuttlefish bones or chalk in it, all right?