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.
It never occurred to me to mark the windows somehow - especially in a way that would weather the years. Proving that there is no new idea under the sun, the folks behind Acro Hold-Tite Numbers knew my pain all the way back in 1948. Each set of these heavy tacks (in rustproof "white brass" according to the package) contains clearly numbered pairs; one to nail into the window ledge, the other into the screen. Just match up the numbers in the springtime, and your home is practically insect proof.
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.
Now that I think about it, why were they so worried about keeping bugs out with screens in 1948? Weren't people just slathering everything with DDT?


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!
James has been out of commission for about a week - not only due to the holiday, but his internet access got conked out. He'll be posting again in the next few days, so here's a post to welcome him back.
No space age good times here. The stuff in the box embraces another 60's concept - that of the "mini". The noisemakers and confetti are full sized, but the rest of the package is a pile of toy food, a mini red carpet, and other doll-sized party accoutrements.