One of my fondest Halloween memories when growing up was a house two blocks away. Their back yard faced the street, and Mr. Rubin would festoon his entire yard for Halloween. Under his massive willow he had all manner of witches, a few light-up skulls, some pumpkins - and I'm talking years before Halloween decorations were so easy to buy. He hand-made most of his display, using some mannequins and homespun know-how.
The best part was the figure of an old man tending a fake fire seated next to a little boy. Not impressive? What made it really great was that on Halloween night Mr. Rubin would set out a record player and play some classic spook-house platters like "Sounds to Make You Shiver". I used to imagine myself as that little boy mannequin, listening to the great ghost stories and haunted sounds of that LP.
There were countless fun and spooky children's records. I remember that listening to these LP's was like being able to put on my own haunted house anytime. When I listen to this recording today, there is an extra shiver of nostalgia as I remember staring through my neighbor's fence, convinced that the lifeless mannequins had moved a little.
People drove from miles around to see Mr. Rubin's display. His elaborate efforts were so much more than the usual paper cutouts in people's front windows that were the extent of Halloween decorating back then and I miss his display of good-natured spooks. So many of today's haunted displays have the kind of gore that is nightmare fuel for the younger set.

The iPod isn't the only piece of technology to create an irresistible stir in the zeitgeist. These two modest examples celebrate the lightning-in-a-bottle that is pre-recorded music. A stack of records let you program your evening outside the whims of your local radio broadcast. How better to embrace this freedom than a cheap Victrola vase, and a set of record shaped coasters?
It's my birthday next week, so if you're shopping for a gift one of these lovely light-up skulls from 1926 would do very nicely. This seems like a really serious skull for such a novel piece of jewelry. Was it intended for children? Or perhaps it's for
Since become an apartment dweller, I no longer have to go through the autumnal ritual of taking down the window screens and putting up the storm windows. I remember it being a helluva task, but even worse was putting screens back up in the spring. Even though all the windows were the same, over the years the screens warped and bent to an almost custom fit. The retreat of the snows meant many trips up and down the ladder trying to cajole all of the screens back into place.
I've not seen a modern product like this (what are you supposed to use these days... one of those electronic label makers?), but I guess that screen window technology has moved on to be better fitting. Then again, don't those precision aluminum framed screens look goofy on a gorgeous old Victorian house? If any of you are faced with a similar problem, perhaps the ol' Hold-Tite tacks hint at some innovative solution you can adopt (besides foisting the task onto your children, of course...).
If nothing else, at least you can think about this strong-armed anthropomorphized tack who's entire self-worth is predicated on helping you keep your screens sorted.

Dating back to 1977, the aftershave in the heads of these presidents still smells pretty good. I don't know how much of the original essence has evaporated, but I could see still using this sweet smelling stuff after one of my typical abortive attempts at shaving. 
When Mother's Day rolled around, there were some crappy gifts that even a kid could afford. Among the "classiest" were these antique finished miniatures. Not only were they models of gadgets of yesteryear, but they doubled as pencil sharpeners. Um... handy, I guess.
the camera's bellows open up (conveniently dumping out the shrapnel from the sharpener), etc.

The company is still around, at least in name - perhaps they are another 
A reasonable copy (certainly well beyond my skills as an artist) took shape, but take a closer look at the face. It's another woman! Call the Louvre! Break out your daVinci Code decoder rings! 
Hours of high pressure sales lectures later, my parents were presented with the above drek. Unfortunately my father wasn't type of guy to say, "Ha ha... a car shaped phone. Great, ya got me. Now which of you should I talk with about punching in the face?"
We've written about
Looking back to the year 1900, the world was entering an age of incandescent light bulbs and considering the possibilities of the internal combustion engine. The benefits of X-Rays had been discovered, and motion pictures were an amusing curiosity. However, modern assembly line manufacturing was unheard of, airplanes were still a few years off, and electronic miniaturization and most of today's clever gadgetry made possible by the transistor was still a half century away. 

The sports card publisher Fleer got the video game bug in the early 80's. They seem to have suffered especially from Pac-Man fever, and produced collectible stickers and rub-off games.
When I bought these as a kid, what I was interested in was the rub-off game. The maze was similar to the arcade's, but instead of little dots to eat the course is covered in golden scratch off circles. You grab your favorite gaming nickel (ahh, so THAT'S where this post's title refers to) and scratch away revealing dots (gulp!), blue ghosts (yum!), or the evil colored ghost mosters (wah-wah-wah).
I found a few of these cards from my childhood, and the scratch-off dots are now impenetrable. They were always a little hard to scratch off (probably to protect against rough handling and packaging), but the mysterious material is now molecularly bonded to the card, What's the lesson here? Don't save every little piece of junk from your childhood thinking you'll have fun with it again someday!