Retrosnark

I assume that wrinkle in time is smoothed out now

Somehow, despite my best efforts, I found myself last night looking at the short side of the night, with nothing suitable for blogging, and no energy to do so. I'm not kidding, I seriously had to wrack my brain to remember what I had for lunch. Ergo, no blogging last night. I've once again credited all your accounts for the shortage.

In addition, I'm going to throw in a few cheesy seventies (but I repeat myself) radio hits. Howzabout C.W. McCall's "Convoy," Jimmy Buffett's "Cheeseburger in Paradise," AND--for a limited time only--Boz Scaggs' "Lowdown." (For my money, Scaggs is the best Boz in the biz.)

Tonight's a bit of a mixed bag. The first two selections are from the March, 1972 Good Housekeeping, while the rest are from the October, 1961 The American Home. Here's why: Sometimes, I come across a collection that doesn't really have enough snarkbait for a whole post, but does have a few good'uns, as we are wont to say in Alabama. And I've decided to clean out a few of those types, so you'll be seeing more like this. Hope you don't mind.

Please keep spreading the Retrosnark gospel. You can also check out my other blog, follow my Tweets if you'd like, become a fan on Facebook, and, if the mood strikes you, drop a penny or two in the tip jar up there at top left. I'd appreciate all five.

Whole lotta symbolism in that basketball net

AMC's ad company got the nice-enough-looking lady right, they got the shaggy, loveable dog right, and they did the best they could in terms of minimizing the exposure that Hornet Sportabout showed. No need in sickening people before they even get in the showroom, although I told Murray not to get the brown model.

But just look at that basketball goal. It's drooping down, and the net is almost gone, but the lady is unfazed by the eyesore hanging on the side of her carefully faux-aged, old red barnesque house. This is a house for people who don't care, just as the Hornet was a car for people who didn't care. The AMC people go ahead and tell you that you'll be on a first-name basis with the customer-service rep, for crying out loud.

Poor dog. I hope he at least got fed every now and then.

Somebody really should tell him

Here he is, tooling around the sand in his bronze dune buggy, surfboard in the back, four lovely sweet thangs with him, and no male competition in sight. Sure, he's a little dorky-looking, but beggars can't be choosers, and they are riding with him, right? Plus, he's got that David Gates and Bread 8-track ready, and that's just guaranteed love-getting music right there. Shows 'em his sensitive side.

What could possibly wrong in this target-rich environment?

No cord, but plenty of weight and low fidelity

Ain't technology great? Here's a phenomenal bit of sonic engineering from what appears to be a small Japanese company. It only weighs 3.5 pounds, and--amazingly--allows you to carry all the beauty of AM radio with you, no matter where you go! (Unless you go under a bridge, or inside, or on the wrong side of some lightning, or near a wall, or if you're not oriented just right.)

My position as a 2009 blogger affords me a little bit of snarking room, but this was actually a pretty spiffy little unit. That's some nice styling it's sporting, with the handle and cantilevered speaker lines, although it was a little pricey. In 2008 dollars, that $44.95 is $323. But hey, what's a few hundred dollars when you can take the stacks and stacks of red-hot wax wherever you go?

Note also the Pocketable Automatic Watch Radio, which was even more expensive at $49.95, or $359 in current dollars. But this little jewel turned itself off and on, AND came with an earphone! Singular!

Hubba-hubba, Mrs. Cooley

I know it's pretty tragic to give a virtual wolf whistle to a woman from 1961, a woman who's most likely dead, or at least gone from having wrinkles to having pleats, but that's a lovely young lady. I'm just saying.

Moving on, that's a lovely young lady who's most likely got a bruise or two concealed with that hair-do. Check out the cabinets, which are all at convenient forehead-bruising height. And notice where the knobs are, just to the left of the "in the new" copy. They're several inches up from the corner, where your leverage is decreased, so you end up pulling harder, and blam! The Cabinets O' Death have claimed another victim.

Also, unless there's a mighty pillar where those two walls of windows meet, behind that lady is some drafty, leaky, most likely heavily caulked space.

The best part of the whole thing? That pineapple-and-cherry asterisk on the ham in the oven.

"Welcome home, Mr. Eddie's Father"

I know this magazine predates the show by a few years, but that's just what came to mind.

It would have gotten old about the second week of looking at it, and within a year, it would have been irritating enough to make a Quaker visit UziRentals on his way to a belltower, but for at least a couple of days, I'd have liked this. And I suppose you could always sell everything to Golden Panda Restaurant, once the cool wore off.

Baskin-Robbins called

They'd really like for you to return their furniture. Oh, and your therapist called, too. Says your regression into childhood might get you in a psychology textbook, and, if he can pull enough strings, get a syndrome named after you. Score!

Get a bouffant AND heatstroke

What's not to snark about this ad? You've got a hair dryer that Norge trumpets as coming in three parts, which is a tacit admission that the flange grommet is going to scamper into a laundry room netherworld the first time you use it. Then there's the price, which in 2008 dollars was about $215 dollars. I would imagine that would have bought a lot of rinse and sets down at Ethylene's Curl Up and Dye salon, as well as affording the opportunity to look at the latest Redbook spread on Jackie O's pillbox hats.

And finally, there's the little matter of roasting your dorsal side while you dry your hair. Nothing like cozying up to an appliance designed to drive off the moisture from a load of extra-thick towels to really put a spring in your 'do.

Put a junebug on your wall

First, I love Mr. and Mrs. John Q. Public there. Seriously. I like the expressions on their faces, the clothes, the fedora, everything. Classy.

And I like the thought of a mechanical yet programmable thermostat. But I wonder if all the models came in emerald green like this one. Because that's the kind of thing that would be pretty prominent and jarring on most walls.

Note the address, too. "Honeywell, Minneapolis 8, Minnesota." Them was some simpler times.

Birthday blogging

As I mentioned earlier, it's not my birthday, it's my progeny's. A year ago today, we got to lay eyes on the little goob. (You can read all about it here.) We're celebrating Saturday, so you still have time to buy him a Hooter's gift certificate if you want.

Here's the last batch from the May, 1942 Better Homes & Gardens. Hope you enjoy it.