Big Stars and Baby Boomer Ads

Stars and celebrities have endorsed products for years. In the late 1920s, movie star Louise Brooks modeled for Maybelline, and--a few years later--so did Paulette Goddard and Joan Crawford, Al Jolson, Gary Cooper, Claudette Colbert and many other stars--in fact, two-thirds of Hollywood's top fifty stars--hawked cigarettes in print and on the radio before World War II.

Heck, Bette Davis showed off her General Electric appliances in 1933 in a three-minute long commercial that you can watch on YouTube.  That's her--very blonde--on the right.
But it was television that created the celebrity endorsements Boomers remember.

Like Dinah Shore singing "See the USA in your Chevrolet." (You can watch a full 90-second commercial from 1952 on YouTube.)
In fact, Dinah was so closely associated with Chevrolet that when her 15-minute TV show expanded to an hour in 1956 and stayed that way for seven years, it was called The Dinah Shore Chevy Show.
Those old commercials may look and sound a bit cheesy now, but in the mid-1950s they were state-of-the-art. The jingles and slogans stand out in our memories . . . and they worked! With or without celebrities, when products appeared on television--any products, from PlayDoh to convertibles--sales took off into the stratosphere.
Of course, fifty or sixty years later, the glimpses of very young or very old stars makes the vintage ads all the more interesting. Vaudeville comedians, glamorous sex symbols, sitcom stars back before "sitcom" was a word, and serious actors all took a turn selling shampoo, cars, food, and more on TV.
Back then, the host of a TV show didn't always cut to a commercial--they often held up the sponsor's product and told viewers how great it was. Or, like Jack Benny and Arthur Godfrey, they'd work a mention of the sponsor into their opening monologue or sign-off.
Here are links to some nearly-forgotten classic commercials;

• Lucy and Desi lit up their Philip Morris cigarettes at the end of their show, right in their TV living room. "The finest king-sized cigarette in America today: smooth, mild, and mellow, and easy on your throat."
• Lucy and Desi also filmed a 1957 Ford Skyline commercial for their I Love Lucy sponsor.
• Roy Rogers shilled for Jello, "the swellest dessert in the world." He even invited the viewers into his house to see all the neighborhood kids making Jello for him and Dale Evans. You can see that ad--which ends in a sing along with Roy, Dale, and the kids--by scrolling to "Jello" at the Internet Archive. 

• At the same site, you can watch Buster Keaton in a beer commercial (scroll to "Keaton"); Chico and Harpo Marx yuck it up for Prom Home Perms ("Prom"); or the Three Stooges clown for Simoniz ("Stoogies")
• Eddie Fisher's TV show, Coke Time with Eddie Fisher, left no doubt who his sponsor was. Fisher enjoyed a glass of Coke while rhapsodizing about how good it tasted. And by today's standards, it was a very small glass. In this 1954 complete show at the Internet Archive, Eddie's add comes about 10 minutes in, and he seems to be at Sardi's.
• Marilyn Monroe--yes, Marilyn!--and Jack Paar did an ad for Coca Cola too. 
• A 24-year-old Angie Dickinson sings while sitting in a Christmas sleigh for a Halo Shampoo Commercial.
• Mattel hired a young, pre-Brady Bunch Maureen McCormick for their 1964 Chatty Cathy ad. McCormick also filmed a Twist 'n' Turn Barbie commercial (pictured below). WHen Chatty Cathy was rereleased six years later, guess who got to be Chatty's voice, recording all the new phrases the doll would say? Marcia, Marcia, Marcia.
  

Remember when Art Linkletter's picture appeared on the money that came with your Life game? Now that was a unique gimmick! Linkletter advertised the game on his two shows (People Are Funny and House Party) on two different networks (NBC and CBS, respectively), so his name and picture went on the game's $100,000 bills. And he got some real cash as well.

We might share more in another post someday but first, here's a word from our sponsor:

Vickey Kall, who blogs over at Boomer Book of Christmas and other spots, loves writing about bygone days and pop culture. Her latest book,The Boomer Book of Christmas Memories , tells the hidden histories behind Baby Boomer traditions like aluminum trees, Green Bean Casseroles, the TV specials and songs of the 50s and 60s, and of course, all those wonderful toys--including Life games and Chatty Cathys.
The Boomer Book of Christmas Memories is available as both a print or eBook--both in full color.

Ten Things Everyone Should Know About Halloween

Once again, it’s that time for ghastly ghosts, ghoulish goblins and glowing jack-o-lanterns so I have put together a list of important stuff everyone should know before they go trick-or-treating:

• Halloween's origins date back 2,000 years ago to the ancient Celts who celebrated their new year on November 1st.  They believed that on the last night of the old year (October 31st), the dead returned to wreak havoc on earth.
• The first jack o'lanterns were carved out of turnips in Ireland.  It was Americans who decided that pumpkins worked better.
• During the eighth century, the Catholic Church designated November 1st All Saints Day and declare the night before All Hallow's Eve. 
• Trick-or-treating had its beginnings in ninth-century Europe.  Back then, it was called Souling.  People trudged from place to place begging for soul cakes (square pieces of bread made with currants.  The more soul cakes they collected, the more prayers they promised to say.
• The name jack o'lantern came from an Irish tale about a mean drunk named, (what else?) Stingy Jack who tricked the devil into climbing a tree. Jack then carved a cross on the tree trunk effectively trapping the devil out on a limb.  When Jack died, neither God nor the devil wanted him, so he was forced to roam the earth carrying a burning ember inside a hollowed out turnip to light his way.
• To protect your home from evil spirits on Halloween, walk around your house three times backwards in a counterclockwise direction before sunset--after all you can never be too sure.
• If you happen to see a spider on Halloween, pay close attention.  It could be the spirit of a loved one who is watching you.
• If the spirit is no one you know, you may scare the spider away by ringing a bell.
• All the single ladies, if you wish to see an image of your future mate in the mirror, wait until Halloween and then carefully peel an apple in front of it.  If the peel remains unbroken, your intended will appear in the mirror.  Sorry guys--it only works for girls.
• In ancient times, people disguised themselves after dark on Halloween to confuse the evil spirits.  Nowadays, they just confuse each other.

 So now that you know the important stuff--go out and have a.....

The Black Maria (pronounced ‘muh-ri-uh’)

On the grounds of his Menlo Park laboratory, inventor Thomas Alva Edison and his right-hand man, William Kennedy Laurie Dickson, designed America’s first motion picture studio.  While many believed that Dickson was really the brains behind the operation, Edison was still the boss after all and demanded his due credit.  They called their creation the Revolving Photograph Theater, or more formally, The Kinetograph Theater, when it opened in early 1893.  With a total cost of $637.67, the odd-looking building would not have won any architectural prize for beauty.  Wrapped in black tar paper on the outside, the austere structure’s interior was also painted black to ensure that filming resulted in the sharpest of images.  It was no wonder that Edison’s employees began calling the unwelcoming place ‘The Black Maria’—a contemporary term that referred to another inhospitable spot—a police paddy wagon.  

Lacking indoor lighting, sunlight was a crucial element in those early days of filmmaking so the studio’s hinged roof opened via a series of ropes, pulleys and weights.  The building itself even sat on heavy rollers allowing it to rotate and follow the sun’s movement throughout the day.  

All of the action occurred on a single stage and was captured by a Kinetograph (early camera) that rested on a nearby table. The table was mounted on tracks allowing limited camera movement.  Films were approximately 50 feet in length and ran for about one-half minute.  With Dickson acting as producer and often directing as well as manning the Kinetograph, subject matters included anything or anyone that might entice a spectator to take another look when visiting their favorite nickelodeon or peep show.  

Sports were highly favored.  Even boxing champion James J. Corbett took on his challenger Peter Courtney inside The Black Maria.  Corbett knocked Courtney out cold right in front of the camera on September 7, 1894.  Agile gymnasts, flexible wrestlers and quick-footed fencers also performed at the studio.  Even strongman Eugene Sandow, often referred to as ‘The Modern Hercules’ and the ‘Father of Modern Bodybuilding’, flexed his considerable muscles on film.  

Animals mimicking humans were another crowd pleaser.  Dancing bears, boxing cats and drum-beating elephants almost always brought spectators back for another peep.  Celebrated names also graced the laboratory grounds.  Wild West stars Buffalo Bill Cody and Annie Oakley both took aim and demonstrated their sharp-shooting skills complete with smoking guns.  And those that couldn’t shoot straight simply whirled their guns.  Rifle twirler Hadji Cheriff who was better known as Sheik Hadji Tahar, left the live stage long enough to perform part of his high-speed act at Edison’s studio. Exotic dancer Little Egypt, with her titillating hips, shimmied her way around the camera.  Even Ena Bertoldi, a female contortionist, happily twisted her limbs inside The Black Maria. 

Despite the wide assortment of subjects, it was a simple sneeze and an ordinary kiss that many spectators liked to see again and again.  When it was originally filmed, Edison Kinetoscopic Record of a Sneeze (1894), the footage was only supposed to illustrate an article appearing in Harper’s Weekly.  The moving picture featured the mustachioed Fred Ott, Edison’s chief mechanic, as he inhaled a pinch of snuff, which resulted in a substantial sneeze.  As viewers experienced a good laugh, Edison had the film officially copyrighted.  

While Fred Ott caused giggles, stage actors Mae Irwin and John C. Rice set off some moral outrage—but that didn’t hamper ticket sales.  Re-enacting a scene from their hit play The Widow Jones, the pair engaged in what seemed a tender conversation resulting in a kiss that lasted a scandalous 15 seconds.  The film, so brazenly called The Kiss (1896), was condemned for such a lewd display.  Many declared it unfit for any decent citizen to view.  Some even thought the police should be summoned.  Of course, the negative buzz didn’t stop the paying patrons who just couldn’t help themselves despite, or perhaps because of, the ballyhoo.  

Eight years and hundreds of films later, America’s first movie studio had served its purpose.  Edison shut the place down opting for a modern filming facility in New York.  In 1903, he demolished the building, but the fledgling industry he launched there was about to soar.

 

 

Ch'a Ching!

According to Chinese legend, tea drinking began over 5,000 years ago.  It is believed that Emperor Shen Nung sampled the very first cup in 2737 B.C.  It seems that the Emperor thought water should always be boiled before drinking.  Supposedly during one of his travels, he and his posse stopped to rest.  As a faithful servant boiled water underneath a tree, several leaves fell into the pot.  The water turned a dark rich color and so intrigued the Emperor that he tasted it.  With royal backing, tea became a popular drink throughout China.

Credited as refreshing AND healing, the dark colored brew was known as ch’a and in 780 A.D. Chinese author and Buddhist monk, Lu Yu penned a three-volume masterpiece all about it.  Titled Ch’a Ching, Yu’s words became the definitive source on all things tea.  Proud of their fellow monk, other Buddhist holy men took their tea to Japan.  The Japanese, however, didn’t develop a taste for the drink until 1191 A.D. when Zenn Buddhist leader Yeisai brought seeds from a tea plant to Japan.  He too wrote a book about tea.  A shrewd salesman as well as a writer, Yeisai even ‘cured’ an ailing Shogun with his tea and then presented the Japanese leader with a copy of his book.  With a royal seal of approval, the book and the brew became instant hits.

It took a while longer for the Oriental drink to reach Europe.  The Portuguese first opened a trade route to the Far East and transported tea back to Lisbon where it was distributed by Dutch ships to the Baltic countries, as well as France and the Netherlands.  As more tea was imported, the price lowered and tea went from being an elite drink to a common brew enjoyed by all.  The Dutch even brought tea to their recently established colony, New Amsterdam—now New York.  Unwittingly, the colonists set the stage for a revolution, but it wasn’t until tea reached England that all the trouble began.

Believe it or not, England was the last to sip tea.  It wasn’t until after 1650 that tea was served at coffee houses throughout Great Britain along with coffee and chocolate.  King Charles II imposed a tea tax in 1660 and several years later, the crown outlawed the imported drink, but at the same time gave Britain’s East India company their very own tea monopoly.  By 1720, tea became a staple in the New World, but the tax issue embittered many of the settlers.  As taxes increased, the outraged colonists refused to drink English tea.  The whole debacle resulted in The Boston Tea Party when rebels dumped a shipload of tea into Boston Harbor, which eventually led to the American Revolution. 

Throughout the nineteenth century, tea remained a popular drink around the world.  In 1904, however, tea plantation owner Richard Blechynden gave the brew another twist.  That summer, he planned to pass out samples of his tea at the St. Louis World’s Fair, but the warm summer weather left him with few takers.  Desperate to drum up business, Blechynden cooled his tea with ice.  To everyone’s amazement, it was just as tasty cold.

Four years later, New York tea merchant Thomas Sullivan bagged tea leaves for the very first time.  The pre-measured sacks assured a good cup of tea with little effort.  The teabag soon became a staple in almost every home.  So the next time you sip some tea, you now know that you have something in common with both royalty and revolutionaries.

 

A Better Idea

One-hundred and twelve years ago, an engineer for the Detroit Edison Company, built a horseless carriage and, in the driver’s seat, he won a car race—the only one he ever entered.

In front of thousands of onlookers, Henry Ford beat Alexander Winton at the Detroit Driving Club in Grosse Pointe, Michigan in the fall of 1901.  While Winton’s car overheated, Ford crossed the finish line averaging a heady 44 miles per hour.  He not only won the $1,000 purse, but also the interest of various investors who thought they should cash in on this mechanical marvel.  So with $28,000 in ready money, the Ford Motor Company was incorporated in 1903.  Ten workers earning $1.50 per day built the first two-cylinder Model A in what was once a Detroit wagon factory.  When Ford sold the vehicle to a local physician for $850, it became a hit.

But Henry Ford had an even better idea!

The four-cylinder Model B did not live up to the company’s expectations, but the Model C certainly did.  By 1907, the Ford Motor Company reaped a whopping $1,100 profit.  Ford continued identifying his automobiles alphabetically.  Some of the models were never mass produced, but considered only concept cars.  The Model N represented a total redesign.  Instead of a two-cylinder engine under the seat, the Model N boasted a four-cylinder engine under the hood.  By the time Ford was ready to build his most famous vehicle, he had exhausted the alphabet from A through S.  His next car represented the most modern automobile to date and he simply called it the Model T.

Ford formally introduced his Model T to the general public on October 1, 1908.  Known for its dependability, the car was soon nicknamed the ‘Tin Lizzie’ (‘Lizzie’ being a contemporary slang word used to describe a reliable servant).  The stripped down version minus a top, windshield and gas lamps went for $850.  After the first 500 cars were made, Ford enhanced the vehicle by adding a new starting crank.  In 1909, more options were featured:  robe rails, footrests, auto chimes and the tops (if you preferred one) could be ordered in either gray or black.

By 1910, Ford was producing 100 Model Ts per day.  The cars remained stationary while workers scurried all over the factory retrieving parts.  In order to meet the increasing demand, however, Ford had to improve production so he experimented with a crude assembly line at his new factory in Highland Park, Michigan.  Eventually production time was reduced to one hour and 33 minutes.  This in turn dropped the car’s price down to $360 making it available to middle class families.  In 1924, the price hit an all-time low of $290.  Over 15 million Tin Lizzies were sold in the United Sates alone with almost one million more going to Canada and another 250,000 shipped to England.  Up until 1927, the Model T represented one half of all cars built and as a result motoring evolved from an idle pastime of the rich into a way of life.

Will Rogers once commented:  “It will take a hundred years to tell whether, he {Ford} helped us or hurt us, but he certainly didn’t leave us where he found us.”  Well, 100 years have come and gone and it is clear that Henry Ford and his Model T revolutionized not only the way we work, but also the way we get there.  And life on the farm has never been the same.

Strangers No More

I usually don’t blog much about myself, but a few weeks ago, I published a post about finding family after 50 years of wondering where they were.  To my surprise, readers were interested!  I was even encouraged to write more about me.  Who knew?  So today, I decided to tell you all about a picture project I recently finished and how that exercise helped me meet two strangers—my father and mother.

Like many of you, I have lots of old black and white photos that have been sitting in boxes for decades—great-grandparents, grandparents, weddings, birthdays, holidays, etc.  Occasionally, I pull them out to peak at the past.  For me, my past includes two parents I never really knew.  My mother died when I was three, leaving me with very vague memories of her.  I have no idea what her voice sounded like or what made her laugh.  I only know what other people have told me, but these stories are their memories not mine.  I do remember my dad—Hollywood handsome, funny and with a silly streak that I believe I inherited.  Very young and unable to cope with my mother’s death, he left me in the care of her parents.  No blame.  No anger.  I wish he had stayed a part of my life, but he didn’t and that’s just how it was.

As my parents’ only child, I have their wedding album—an oversized blue book that captures the highlights of that summer day in 1953.  I also have envelope after envelope of candid shots taken in the church and the hall so I decided to buy a photo album and put all of these loose wedding pictures together.  After hours of sorting and assembling, I found two people who were obviously in love and made each other very happy. 

Starting with their wedding shower, I saw them unwrap gifts and smile at their good fortune.  Next, I discovered that they had a party the night before the wedding at my grandparents’ house complete with folding chairs set up in the backyard and beer!  My mother had written ‘bridal dinner’ on the envelope I found them in.  Then there were scads of pictures of their wedding day—the fun they had getting ready, the solemn church service and finally, the reception.  I saw them cut their cake, dance their first dance, and share a kiss—I could almost hear the clanging utensils that must have gone along with it. 

The next day, according to another envelope my mother had written on, they left for their honeymoon—Niagara Falls.  I had always known about this honeymoon destination (after all, it was a popular one in the fifties), but what I didn’t know was that they also traveled to New York City.  You can’t imagine how surprised I was to see my mother sitting in front of the Statue of Liberty and visiting Central Park—places I’ve been myself.  And she was smiling as my dad snapped away.  They even took pictures of each other standing at a hotel elevator and in unknown restaurants where they must have grabbed a bite and a drink.

Somehow, after I was finished with my new photo book of old pictures, these two people, whose time together was cut short, came alive for the very first time.  No longer strangers, I finally met my parents. 

The Aristocratic Mountain Man

Jean Baptiste Charbonneau, better known as Pomp, was only 8 weeks old when he joined Lewis and Clark on their great expedition traveling west on his mother’s back.  The son of Sacagawea and her French-Canadian fur trapper husband, Toussaint Charbonneau, Pomp had but one calling:  adventurer extraordinaire.

As an infant and toddler, Pomp won the hearts of the rugged men who traveled west with The Corps of Discovery.  It wasn’t unusual to find any one f them bouncing Pomp on his knee.  William Clark took an exceptional liking to the boy and, after their expedition, offered to raise Pomp as his own.  He assured Sacagawea and Charbonneau that their son would get a good education.  Trusting Clark as a man of his word, they left Pomp in his care.

Raised in St. Louis, Missouri by Clark, Pomp was a student of classical literature, math and science.  Not only could he read and write in English, but he also mastered Greek and Latin, as well as the violin.  Despite his formal education, however, young Pomp was still Charbonneau’s son.   At the age of 16, he joined the Missouri Fur Company and headed west to seek his fortune. 

In 1823, he met Duke Paul Wilhelm, a young German noble, also known as Prince Paul and the nephew of the King of Wurttemberg.  Prince Paul had come to America to study the unique wild plants and animals native to the western territories.  The two men drummed up a great friendship and when Prince Paul returned to Germany, Pomp went with him.  Once in Wurttemberg, the pair was welcomed into the royal fold.  It’s even said that Pomp played his violin for Beethoven at one particularly grand soiree.

After Prince Paul married Princess Sophie Von Turn und Taxis in 1827, he invited Pomp to move into their recently renovated castle.  Pomp then learned to speak German, Spanish and Italian while traveling throughout Europe and Africa with Prince Paul.  The princess didn’t approve of their wanderlust and the couple separated.  Pomp eventually returned to the United States preferring the life of a mountain man to that of an aristocrat.

For the next 15 years, Pomp worked with Antoine Robidoux’s fur brigade trapping beaver for their fashionable pelts.  Known for his quick thinking and cleverness, as well as his outgoing personality, he made friends with the likes of Joe Meek, Jim Bridger and the legendary Kit Carson.  By the 1840s, mountain men faced extinction as beaver fur became passé so Pomp moved on.

With his multi-lingual abilities, his vast knowledge of the west and his keen hunting skills, he soon found work as a guide.  The U.S. Army even hired him in 1846 to escort the Mormon Battalion from Santa Fe, New Mexico to San Diego, California during the war with Mexico.  Once on the west coast, Pomp became Alcalde, or mayor, of Mission San Luis Rey.  Because he was part Native American, however, local white men accused him of playing favorites and inciting rebellion.  Irritated, Pomp abruptly left his post and headed for northern California.  There he met acquaintances from the Mormon Battalion who were now building a mill for John Sutter.  They let Pomp in on Sutter’s big secret: GOLD!  Pomp was probably one of the original forty-niners.  He didn’t strike it rich, but he did stay on for 17 years, most likely providing some sort of service to the gold diggers.

In 1866, Pomp heard of another gold discovery—this time in Montana.  Even though he was 61, he took two friends in search of yet another adventure.  By the time they reached Oregon, Pomp fell ill with pneumonia.  He died on May 16, 1866 at Inskip Station.  The Shoshone, however tell a different tale.  They believe that Pomp was reunited with his mother on Wyoming’s Wind River Reservation where he died in 1885.  Either way, he led a full life embracing adventure wherever it came.