I know what you’re thinking.
#extra
In fairness, these Aborigines were all gussied up for the corroborree (lively social gathering), where they had plans to perform a “wild duck dance” wearing said grass and feather head ornaments.
They don’t look too thrilled about the pending festivities. Personally, I wouldn’t chance the neck pain or misalignment of the spine that such weight could cause. And that’s why I don’t get invited to corroborrees.
Among my granddad’s things is this gloriously colorful 24 x 18 map. My guess is that Gramps mailed his request to General Foods, as Grape-Nuts was one of the foods Byrd took on his journey.
Per curtiswrightmaps.com,
It depicts Antarctica from a polar perspective, with the tip of South America visible at the very top of the image. Large areas are labeled as unexplored, inaccessible, or “claimed.” Inset maps of Byrd’s route south and the area near his camp are provided to the audience as a helpful aid. As explained in the decorative title cartouche, Byrd’s second expedition was the first to feature live two way radio broadcasts. A radio station sponsored by CBS was set up on the base camp ship and relayed weekly updates to New York via Buenos Aires.
Below, you can see the copyright of 1934. One wonders if, at age 14, Gramps ever put this on his wall. It does not appear so. Or has it simply sat inside this envelope for 86 years, going from house to house each time he moved, packed away in a box and never tossed away?
Among my granddad’s endless child-of-the-Depression-era keepsakes (honestly, I should start a blog just called THAT, since it could last into the next century), was this signed (pawmenship, not penmanship) image of Rin Tin Tin himself. Does he look focused or forlorn? They really should have posed him looking up. In any event, he died the next year in 1932. Other RTT’s succeeded him, but he was the legit and only German Shepherd rescued from a World War I battlefield.
Far be it for Ken–L-Ration not to send advertising and pimp their products to young kids (like my gramps) who sent off for them. After all, it’s what Rin Tin Tin ate.
Ooh, la la, ladies! Somebody just upped the charm bracelet game! Look how beautifully it lays (or is it lies?) against the skin. What’s not a lie is how it will subliminally encourage you to eat protein each time it scrapes against the keyboard as you type.
It compliments any outfit you have in shades of peanut shell or Baptist red brick. It’s nutty, all right.
During this time of Easter and resurrection, it’s important to remember that Mr. Peanut did NOT in fact die for good, but was (as the Super Bowl commercial revealed) reborn by the tears of the Kool-Aid Man (oh, yeah!) in a much less spiritual or legitimate manner.
Freckled marionette Howdy Doody was kind of a big deal at the onset of the 50s, so it was no surprise that LIFE magazine hosted a lookalike contest. 
Wondering what galluses were? A pair of suspenders. Nobody says that now.
Poor kids. Surely George Ford grew into those ears. I imagine he never lived this article down. Pity.
The winner was five year old Billy Oltmann (Old Man at this point). Cute as a button in his bandana and western wear!
Time to celebrate his big win with Hostess Twinkies!
Y’all know I love proboscis monkeys.
Young ones and female ones have smaller noses.
But even a snub nose can frighten!
By the time a male reaches adulthood, he possesses quite the appendage.
It doesn’t slow him down.
In fact, scientists say that droopy snout actually is there to impress the ladies.
And to distract from stained, unseemly incisors.
Who could resist this alluring fellow?
Other options include:
and even a colorful understated hat for the menfolks
I may have conquered using apps on a smart phone or removing jams from testy copy machines, but the technology of yore frightens me. I don’t get it now, and I certainly wouldn’t have gotten in back in 1955, at the University of Colorado.
Nope. Too many wires.
Next up: isotopes. Haven’t talked about proton/neutron stuff since high school, and I’m not gonna start now.
She is clearly steering a cardboard ship, but I know not what the men do.
Too many black holes and knobs in the cube. It doesn’t even fit in my pocket.
Get a load of this jet engine compressor! I’d rather feed a porcupine.
And this last one takes the cake, with “nurse aids performing the pleasant task of hairbrushing for a paralytic.” Pleasant? That looks like a nightmare. 
Rapture, take me now.
I Don't Get It 