Books Where You Actually Turned the Pages Made from Real Paper

I was looking around for something to read, bored out of my mind by some Sinclair Lewis novel I downloaded for free from the Gutenberg Project, when I noticed that someone in the house had removed an old Time-Life book from the bookshelf in the dining room so they might employ it as a mousepad for some murderous game played on a laptop while sitting on the couch eating Goldfish and watching Family Guy. That's the level of respect we have for books these days, They're mousepads. These old Time-Life books, a series called "The Old West", belonged to my wife's father, and they've done nothing but collect dust since the turn of the century and well before that, I'm sure. And it was not with purposeful disrespect that the person in question decided it made a good mousepad, but a careful study of its smooth, leather-ish exterior determined it had the right reflective properties and gripping strength to be used for something. What are those stupid decorations in the dining room all about? The things with the paper inside them that look like perfect laptop mousepads?

And now I'm reading them. I feel like I'm getting the quality middle-school education I carelessly neglected all those years ago, too concerned was I with skipping class and trying to make girls pay attention to me. And the books are full of pictures, too, which is perfect for a wandering mind like mine. Here's the commercial that advertised this expensive set of volumes when it was newish.

Thank you, spoiled 21st Century child who thought this made the perfect mousepad for your gaming pleasure. Alas, I was just like you when I was your age, and never would've thought these books were good for anything, unless someone had told me they had pictures of naked Native Americans in them.

I Trust They Killed Everyone Involved

First the writer. Then the art director, the producer, director, talent - and finally the client who signed off on this. I share this only because misery loves company.

The Ad That Launched a Thousand GoDaddy Crap Ads

This is said to be the ad that started the Super Bowl ad wars, when the commercials themselves started to get as much (or more) attention as the game. I am too lazy to research this right now, so just watch it and believe me.

Your Trade-In as Downpayment, Liberal Credit Terms

No, not cars. Refrigerators. "See your GE dealer," says the affable spokesman. The spokeswoman is equally friendly and the pair give off a mysterious and almost creepy vibe, like they're going to cut you into little pieces and store you in their new refrigerator that they love so very much. I enjoy the cadence of the old way of speaking. She even says, "none at all" as if "at" and "all" are one word. You almost want to join them for mint juleps on the veranda of an evening, perhaps come summer. They will most certainly offer us cigarettes, as that is the proper and polite custom when entertaining company.

Beyond the fun of the time travel this ad provides, the spot reminds me that Americans have been "living beyond their means" for a long, long time.

Accidentally came upon this while trying to find a GE spot from last night's game that deviated from the usual GE commercial. Employees goofily singing and not staring at the camera in that "so proud to be a GE employee" way. Wait, that's Boeing's template. Whatever. This is more fun.

Serve Cold. Drink Fast.

"Your Majesty! The people have no wine!"

"Let them drink Ripple."

From the vault they call YouTube. If you search it, it will come up.

Ripple, from Gallo, long regarded as the cheap wine for...winos, was once "the new drink for lively people." Marie Antoinette is winking at you in this old spot that follows the classic Mad Men era format of sickening jingle followed by zealous announcer.

"Twice the pleasure" is copywriter language for "a quick buzz."

Pure, Wholesome Refreshment

Return with me now to a simpler time, to another era of economic disaster, when life as an advertiser meant just telling blatant lies about your client's product. Listen as Coke is positioned as the end of all your suffering, the unifier of the masses, the common bond that will take us to a shining city on a hill.

Code Blue for Polaroid

At our house, we watch "House." Actually, I provide the running, snide commentary as we watch it, much to the annoyance of the others who are trying to enjoy it. EVERY SINGLE EPISODE OF HOUSE starts with someone collapsing. Throughout the next 45 minutes, House and his crew of genius doctors-in-training proceed to exhaust every possible remedy as they change the diagnosis six times, torturing and often killing the patient briefly. Toward the end, as House is talking to someone about a sub-plot that is completely unrelated to the mysterious case of the collapsing, dying patient, he stops in mid-sentence with a puzzled gleam in his eye. Something he has just said holds the answer to the mystery. He then rushes off to order the magic surgery/drug/treatment that will end the baffling case. (With animated body inner-workings diagrams coinciding with House's narration of the simple diagnosis to his crew.) Then he leaves the building, lonely, hurting and still angry, but ever-so-slightly buoyed as some bluesy piano or guitar follows him into the rain/wind/snow/dark of night.

Anyway, here's Hugh Laurie (who does an excellent job of disguising his English origins on the show) looking super-80s in an old commercial for Polaroid, a dying patient.

Drinking The Kool-Aid

While I know Jim Jones and the Jonestown Massacre gave birth to the phrase "Drinking the Kool-Aid" to refer to people blindly following someone or something, this old spot I just happened upon while I was supposed to be working (how does that happen?) is pretty scary. The jingle is kept simple and repetitive, the better to brainwash these well-mannered youth of yesteryear.

Frisbee® - Non-Toxic, Since 1958

Remember the good old days, when toys didn't get recalled for deadly paint? But there are many things about the good old days that are best left back there. Like this dude's shorts. And stupid jingles.



No longer an American company, Wham-O, makers of the Frisbee, sold to a Hong Kong company last year - toy and game manufacturer Cornerstone Overseas Investments, Limited.

So if your dog dies after catching too many Frisbee tosses in the backyard, maybe something in that Chinese glow-in-the-dark plastic killed him.