POP CULTURE CHRONICLES
By Mike Olszewski
For many of us who grew up during the golden age of television, our holiday wish lists were filled with toys we saw on our black-and-white TVs. When ad executives realized the powerful influence of commercials, advertising took a dramatic turn; the electronic babysitter doubled as a salesperson.
Persuasive Jingles
On television, WEWS-TV spun a daily yarn about some adventure that had often used the day’s featured toy to resolve the situation. It was followed by the familiar: “Available on Halle’s seventh floor.”
Many old local commercials are on YouTube and are fun to watch. You see now how those letters to Santa often had brand names included. Plus, they directed the audience into specific gender roles. Young girls were encouraged to prepare food in their Easy-Bake Ovens and to master baby’s hygiene needs with Betsy Wetsy, a doll that…you guessed it… wet itself. They apparently loved the doll; it was sold by the millions. Young moms-to-be couldn’t wait until the next diaper change, preceded by a carefully poured cup of water.
The boys were directed to Alpha Male Land with G.I. Joe, phony machine guns, helmets and hand grenades. Robots directed us into a macho-fueled future. Remco’s Whirlybird helicopter came under fire from angry parents who had to explain to distraught children that the helicopter didn’t fly as shown in the commercial.
It wasn’t only phony military weapons we were pitched. You can’t forget “The Untouchables” toy replica of the Thompson M1 submachine gun, which no home should be without. You never knew when mob boss Frank Nitti might come knocking on your door. His kids had the same guns he did.
TV took this to a new level, but the tradition of the department-store catalog had staying power. TV ads were over in a minute, but the catalogs from Montgomery Ward, Sears, May Company and others were huge. Each weighed two to three pounds and had color photos you could moon over until you were disappointed on Christmas morning. Talk about disappointments. My parents would buy the toys but not the batteries to run them; batteries were a luxury that wasn’t part of our holiday plan. Anything that ran on batteries just sat there; my “Lost in Space” b9 robot became a statuette.
Surprisingly, many of those catalogs are being reprinted for nostalgia fans. Years back, they were mailed free to your home and tossed during spring cleaning. Now we’re paying to put them on our bookshelves.
While we welcomed the annual Christmas catalogs, I know a group of people who had a different view of the holidays: mail carriers. I had the same mailman for many years and heard plenty of stories about the back-breaking work, especially during the holiday card crush.
I commented to him one time, “I bet you loved the catalog season.” There was a pause, his eyes glassed over and his face sported an uneasy look. Let’s just say, his reaction didn’t match the spirit of the holidays.
BOOMER TRIVIA: Last issue, I asked about an actress who grew up in Lakewood and was best known for her role in a TV series about a character who could fly. Some folks contacted me with possible answers and I would only say they were close. They were right that it was “The Flying Nun,” but not Sally Field. It was Marge Redmond who played Sister Jacqueline. Next time, according to legend, this Ohio-born performer turned down an offer to sing the final song at the Woodstock festival.
