Is That So?
Category: Advertising
Joltin’ Joe
I’d never seen this ad before. My new KU magazines are filled with cigarette ads. I’m not on an anti-smoking propaganda campaign here; I’m just sharing the interesting ads.
However, it did contribute to DiMaggio’s demise. DiMaggio, a heavy smoker for much of his adult life, was admitted to Memorial Regional Hospital in Hollywood, Florida, on October 12, 1998, for lung cancer surgery. He returned to his Florida home on January 19, 1999, where he died on March 8. His last words were, “I’ll finally get to see Marilyn.” (wikipedia)
Fight ‘Em, Then Light ‘Em
In the fall of 1945, WWII had just ended, and colleges anticipated increased enrollment from students on the G.I. Bill. Soldiers had received free cigarettes while enlisted, so it’s not surprising that the habit remained when they returned home. Tobacco companies had initially targeted the military during WWI through the distribution of cigarettes to servicemen, and by WWII, they were included in rations. The Red Cross even distributed free cigarettes to the troops.
Despite mounting evidence in the 1950s of the adverse health effects of smoking and tobacco use, the military continued to include cigarettes in rations until 1975 (wikipedia). Old habits died hard. This image from the fall of 1945 shows a student lighting up before class.
Swollen enrollment meant swollen ashtrays.
Pipes were popular, as evidenced by students, as well as advertising.
I admit it; I enjoy the smell of pipe smoke. 
Even student protesters paused for a smoke break.
And as we know, sex sells. Hence, the cigarette girl. She was the Coyote Ugly of cigarettes.
In the event that some students may have forgotten their ABCs, this strikingly colorful ad on the back cover of this Jayhawker reminded them. Chesterfield=home runs!
Vulcanizers In The Motor Age, Part II
This 1919 Motor Age magazine is chock full of great images, so make sure you checked out Part I.
Perfection Asbestos. Isn’t that redundant? 
But it’s not just ads; Detroit was concerned with safety. 
And they had plans for the car of the future. 
One article discussed autogenous welding in automotive repairs. 
And of course, there are the cars themselves, including this bullet-shaped Fiat.
Thanks for spending some time in the past, in a time before all of us were born.
Vulcanizers In The Motor Age, Part I
I spent last night, flipping through a 1919 Motor Age, browning and brittling as it nears the century mark. I wish I could post all 150 pages, as interesting as they are, but of course, you would fall asleep by page 20. As I am no Kerbey the Riveter, I know nothing about machines or cars in general, so most of these words my mouth had never spoken. Vulcanizers, carborundum valves, aloxite wheels?
I don’t know what a “jobber” is, but the magazine is filled with the term. And who’s this Dutch girl?
Between the Velie Six and the Cleveland Six, I hadn’t heard of half the automobile manufacturers. See how many of these you recognize.
Here’s the Cleveland Six. Ain’t she a beaut?
Check out this handy luggage carrier. So convenient!
With “The War” having ended only the year prior, life was getting better and better.
Stay tuned for Part II, as we discover more of the 95-yr-old Motor Age.
Give With The Glow
Right On The Beam
As you can see, this ad dates from Christmas 1946, when the term “Coke” was becoming part of popular jargon. The gang says this little towheaded sprite (fun fact: Coca-Cola didn’t introduce Sprite until 1961) looks just like Coke tastes. Delightful? Effervescent? All I know is, I like his hat.
And in case you’re looking for a Coke Date, Miss Clough here is available for appointments.
Now That’s Progressive
Before the current era (in which people wear pajama bottoms to Wal-Mart), folks dressed up for work. They took some time. They put in some effort. And if you saw a man in a derby and a double-breasted suit, you knew he was somebody, earning money for a new pair of wing-tips.
Here’s an interior shot.
My favorite part of this one is the view outside the window; the man crossing the street, the jalopy idling at the crosswalk. When’s the last time you saw curtains in an office? Where are the monitors? Is that faux marble trim on the counter? And an ashtray for smoking inside the office?
How refreshing to see the calming images of The Grand Canyon and lakeside fishing, without those ridiculous motivational taglines beneath them. But why aren’t the pictures framed? Look at those employees: no emails to check, no online bill pay, no texts, no sexts for dang sure. Just envelopes and stamps, back when a stamp was THREE CENTS. And just a bit of trivia for you here: stamps cost three cents from 1933-1958. Yes, for TWENTY-FIVE years, stamps stayed the same price. Can you imagine that? By comparison, stamps were 44 cents in 2011, then 45 in 2012, then 46 in 2013. That’s the game we play these days. You can barely catch your breath before the rules change. And that applies to everything. You think WordPress will exist in 2025? Don’t count on it.
It’s Magically Delish
In an effort to distract myself from current health issues (apparently 40 is the new 110), I picked up a 50 cent copy of the April 2012 Country Living and start flipping through the pages of flea market finds, cedar gazebos, and vine-ripened tomatoes, in reds and green pretty enough to frame. I think about how great it would be to slice those babies up and shove them between bacon and lettuce.
I skip past Easter eggs covered with temporary tattoos of larks and butterflies. I pass a page on how to prettify your potting shed. I lament that I have no potting shed. And then I come to this. 
Are you kidding me? I like dogs, people, but are you freaking kidding me? This is nicer than my freshman college dorm wall-pull-out bed. This is nicer than my junior year’s papasan, which by the way, Pier 1 still sells. 
Because who doesn’t love the marriage of a satellite dish balanced on a wicker frame? BTW, do they sell pagers to go with them? And bottles of Clearly Canadian? And cassettes from Toad the Wet Sprocket?
If your dog is a CEO of a Fortune 500 company, then, yes, he needs a $70 monogrammed canvas bed or a $208 linen sleeper. Heck, why not get him a Select Comfort bed while you’re at it? To think of all those childhood Christmases I spent sleeping on a shag-carpeted floor with a sheet and a blanket at my grandparents’ house, and I could have had a doggie duvet? Psh!
Look, before my son was born, I thought my dog had hung the moon. I brushed his teeth, I took him jogging, I trimmed his nails, he slept inside my home. Now my two dogs stay in the backyard, free to run and irritate one another, lucky to get a daily pat on the head from me, along with a heartworm pill every month. That’s reality. I roll my eyes and scan the adjacent page. Apparently, this is the dog-themed section: 
Real meat? No corn, wheat, or soy? Are dogs gluten-intolerant now? My childhood dog ate his own poo. I can say with certainty that he’d be down with corn and soy. If your lifespan only averages a decade, I say live it up.
Now, I know two years have passed since this product came out, and folks are free to do as they wish with their disposable income. But viewing it, in combination with the plush dog beds, made me think how delighted a homeless person would be to enjoy either. Or someone in a Third World country, sleeping in a dirt hut, drinking contaminated water, feasting on seeds. I bet they’d love a plastic tub of Chicken Paw Pie (with real chicken paws!). 
The folks at http://www.dogfoodadvisor.com say the Hearty Beef Stew contains beef broth, beef, dried egg product, chicken, pea protein, potatoes, carrots, and peas, as well as many vitamin supplements. If it looks and sounds better than McDonald’s, it probably is.
So what’s in a Big Mac? Two all-beef patties? All-beef? Isn’t that the meat that lives forever? I’m sure it’s great, now that the pink slime has been removed. Remember this picture from last April’s big news story?
That burger was from 1999. Yes, before the Twin Towers fell. Before any of today’s high school freshmen were BORN, that meat existed. Ew.
And let’s not forget the bun, made of bleached white flour, with a dash of ammonium sulfate, ammonium chloride, and a whole lotta other junk I can’t pronounce. Plus four sesame seeds on top. Pair that with a square of rubbery processed American cheese and the Special Sauce (soybean oil, pickle relish, distilled vinegar, water, egg yolks, high fructose corn syrup, onion powder, mustard seed, salt, spices, propylene glycol alginate, sodium benzoate, mustard bran, sugar, garlic powder, vegetable protein, caramel color, extractives of paprika, soy lecithin, turmeric, calcium disodium EDTA), and you’re in business!
It’s enough to make you resort to a box of Triscuits!
The bonus is–your dog will eat Triscuits, too. But only the flavored kinds. Dogs are picky like that.
Friday Night Milk Pong
Because I Don’t Have Time To Wait For Seven Packets Of Sugar To Dissolve
Why isn’t it Sweet ‘N’ Low? With an apostrophe before and after the N? This bothers me. It stands for Sweet And Low, no? Not Sweeten Low. Saccharin be damned; it’s the grammar that concerns me. But isn’t this a cute ad? It’s enough to make me tear open a pink packet and pour it into my next cup of coffee.
Yes, There Is A Dublin, Texas
I Don't Get It 