Who Or What Was Alvis Stalwart

 

  Who or what was Alvis Stalwart?  For the price of 50 cents, I was willing to find out. That was the price of a Matchbox car in 1966 when the Alvis Stalwart was first introduced to American kids.

   The name was fittingly strange for a vehicle that sported six wheels and looked like a prop from Lost In Space.  I never cared to research the name – it probably wasn’t in the library card catalog anyway.

   Fast forward 53 years and I came across a Facebook group dedicated to diecast metal cars.  I pulled out my childhood Matchbox car collection for a quick photo.  After all, here was a group - possibly the only group, that actually cared what was in the box. 

   Out popped weird named vehicles like the Mercedes Unimog, the Iso Griffo and of course the Alvis Stalwart.  It took me 53 years but finally I learned the origin of the Alvis Stalwart.

   Wikipedia describes the Stalwart as a highly mobile amphibious military truck built by Alvis that served the British Army from 1966 until 1992.  British servicemen apparently called it a Stolly. 

   My miniature Matchbox version was labeled BP Exploration to probably misdirect Russian spies who looked to steal the design.

   There is no single toy from my childhood that consumed more of my time and gave me greater pleasure than my collection of Matchbox cars that were stamped “Made in England by Lesney.”

   Lesney Products was an industrial die casting company founded by Leslie Smith and Rodney Smith in 1947. The pair began experimenting with die cast toys and created the first toy under the Matchbox name in 1953.  A Lesney co-owner named Jack Odell designed a miniature car for his daughter because her school only allowed children to bring toys that could fit inside a matchbox. The rest is history as they say.  

    Because each model had to fit in a matchbox, the idea was born to sell the models in replica matchboxes. For many years that followed, the name Matchbox was synonymous with die cast cars.

   Competition from Mattel’s Hot Wheels cars seriously cut into Lesney’s business in the late 1960’sand they were eventually bought out by their old rival Mattel in 1996.

   One thing that made Matchbox cars special was the price.  For fifty cents, a kid could buy a toy with his/her own money that lasted more than an afternoon. 

   I hauled my cars in their special Matchbox case for sleepovers and vacations frequently scanning the free catalogs for new models.  These days a mint condition catalog is worth more than the cars but I never saw them as an investment.

   Instead, they were just comfortable old “friends” that had personalities and helped me fill hours of my childhood and then hours of my son’s childhood.

   My photo on Facebook drew 130 likes from the die-cast group last week and prompted several others to pull their collections out of the closet.  I wonder if there was an Alvis Stalwart was among them.

Cigarette Jingles Taste Better & Last Longer

 

I got a tune stuck in my head the other day.  It was the Winston cigarette jingle: Winston tastes good like a (clap clap…).  If you’re over 60, you know how it ends. If you fit the demographic, you could also complete these followings phrases:  LSMFT mean…, come on over to the L&M … and Tarryton smokers would rather fight than…  How did you do?

Despite the obvious dangers of smoking, cigarette smoking and commercials were a part of our lives in the 1950’s and 60’s. Smoking has been around much longer but it became a popular trend for men after World War I and for women in the 1920’s.  Cigarette advertising in national magazines helped make smoking glamorous and sophisticated.  It also helped turn about 42% of the nation’s adults into smokers by the late 1940’s.

Some of the earliest TV shows were sponsored by tobacco companies and cigarette ads began to dominate the airwaves within ten years.  A popular 1950’s trend was using celebrities to pitch cigarettes as part of the show. Desi Arnaz, Jedd Clampett (Buddy Ebsen) and even Fred Flinstone pitched cigarettes during their shows.

Search YouTube and you will find hundreds of cigarette commercials. Among the most popular ones are the Marlboro Man commercials that used the Magnificent Seven theme song. Of course, it’s hard to stop humming the Kent tune: to a colonel - it’s a regiment, to a smoker - it’s a Kent. The only way to stop humming the Kent song is to whistle the opening lines of this one.   You can take Salem out of the country but… you can’t take the country out of Salem.  For a smoking commercial, it makes no sense but that doesn’t stop you from whistling along.

The jingles were catchy but the ad copy bordered on ridiculous. For example, did you know that “in a national survey of doctors in all medical fields, it was found that more doctors smoked Camels than any other cigarette.”   I learned that dentists recommended Viceroy cigarettes for a fresher breath and a medical report proved conclusively that Phillip Morris cigarettes helped eliminate throat irritation and scratchiness.

Chesterfields had “man sized satisfaction” while Virginia Slims reminded women “you’ve come a long way baby.”  Lucky Strike encouraged smokers to “reach for a Lucky when tempted to overindulge.”  A particularly offensive campaign used babies to push Marlboros. “Gee mom, you sure enjoy your Marlboro.”  Prior to his terms as president, Ronald Reagan pitched Pall Mall cigarettes by testifying that Pall Mall has a “he-man aroma that wows the ladies and makes a difference for any studly guy.”

A public report in 1952 first linked cigarette smoking to cancer but major anti-smoking campaigns didn’t show up for another 10+ years. Broadcasters were required to run one anti-smoking ad for every three cigarette in the late 1960’s. Richard Nixon, a heavy pipe smoker, reluctantly signed legislation to end  cigarette ads on TV in 1971. Ironically, the move freed tobacco companies to put more money in print advertising and anti-smoking ads disappeared from television.

Knowing what we do about the harms of smoking, it’s hard to look at smoking ads nostalgically but there is little harm in humming along with the Marlboro Man.

Share your jingle memories at flipsidecolumn@gmail.com.

Remembering Darkroom Days and Nights

 

   The term for today is disruptive technology. It means that new technology changes or disrupts what we know.  Take the typewriter, for example. No nostalgia can convince us to give up our computer keyboards and bring back the white-out correction fluid. The personal computer slowly killed the typewriter and not many people put up a fight.

   The same is true in photography. Digital cameras gradually improved year by year and before we realized it, our film cameras were obsolete. If you don’t believe me, try finding a roll of film.  In the days of Plus-X and Kodachrome, I carried a dozen rolls of film on vacation. I now have just one roll in the familiar plastic film container to remember “the good old days.”

   The good old days for me started in 1970 when I received a Kodak Instamatic Camera with flashcube for Christmas. Kodak introduced the auto loading camera in 1963 and sold 50 million of them by 1970.  The cost of film and processing slowed me down but I fell in love with photography.  My first official photography role was as the Boy Scout Troop 22 photographer – a title I claimed after earning the prestigious photography merit badge.

   A few years later I joined the high school yearbook staff and was introduced to “real” film cameras that our private school could afford. There was the Leica camera that may have come home with a GI from WWII and an ancient Yashica-Mat format camera that may have previously been used by Jimmy Olsen.

   The cameras were unimportant. The fun was working in the darkroom.  I logged hundreds, maybe thousands, of hours in darkrooms through high school, college and later work. Like a chain smoker, I carried the strong smell of chemicals like D-76, Dektol and acetic acid on my fingertips and clothes everyday.  Darkroom work was rewarding and fun but inefficient. 

   Franchises like Fotomat began offering low cost film processing and soon you could drop off your film at Target, shop and pick up your prints on the way out. The darkroom days were numbered but not dead until the digital camera appeared. Invented in 1975, digital camera sales boomed in the late 1990’s when the quality caught up with standard film cameras and costs came down.

   I was reminded of those good old darkroom days this past week when I came across “vintage darkroom equipment” listed on Ebay.  For only $50 you could get an enlarger, reels, trays, and a snappy red light.  That is a bargain if you are interested in taking up photo processing as a hobby. Vinyl records are making a comeback – maybe darkrooms are next.  The whole thing is a bit depressing when I see my old darkroom equipment listed as vintage.

   My darkroom days are over but I have boxes of old black and white prints to remind me of those many afternoons in the high school darkroom.  Today, no darkroom skills are needed to process smart phone pictures.  People can literally shoot, edit and send high quality photos with one finger and that finger won’t be stained with photo chemicals. Now that’s progress.

Prom Memories Don't Last But Prom Photos Do

 There are headline events we have all experienced that leave a mark on our lives. The high school prom is not one of them.

For more than 1000 Allen High School seniors, the senior prom at Southfork Ranch last month was hopefully a memorable evening and another check box on the road to graduation.

Senior proms are a big deal - for at least a month. A month later, graduation takes top billing and the prom dresses head to the back of the closet.

I can’t make light of proms because they were a big deal for me as well. Our boys only parochial high school rarely hosted mixed social events so I willingly volunteered for the Essex Catholic junior prom committee in 1973.

Under the watchful eye of Brother Lapa, crepe paper selections were made, centerpieces were planned and most importantly, a theme was chosen.  The Moody Blues hit “Nights In White Satin” would set the mood for this gala event, which was held in the high school ballroom (yes the ballroom).

I invited Eva Marie, a childhood friend. I bought some dress bell bottoms at the mall and secured transportation.  Unfortunately, I was a full six months short of New Jersey’s 17-year-old driving age so my father graciously drove us. We awkwardly sat in the back seat with plenty of space in between. That set the tone for the evening as we awkwardly danced under the crepe paper canopy. We are still friends but that magical night rarely comes up in conversation.

One month later, I attended the St Vincent’s Academy junior prom with a blind date. As a favor to a friend, I accompanied her friend Mary and sat in the backseat of my friend Bill’s car with plenty of space in between.  It wasn’t a romantic evening - it was just a fancy high school dance very closely supervised by nuns.

A steady girlfriend, Patrice, and a driver’s license made senior prom much more entertaining.  Unlike recent events, proms in “the old days” always included dinner, live music and dancing.  Other than a tux rental and a corsage, the price was fixed. I believe my 1974 prom was $40 per couple. A fancy dinner, limo, tux, prom ticket and after prom event might set a high schooler back $500+.

A group of us had a great time and then aimlessly drove my father’s car all night long. We finished off with a trip to one of New Jersey’s famous all-night diners in our prom attire.  Unfortunately, the joy of an all-night prom was spoiled by my father who was waiting to drive to work.  Remember the days of one car families and no cell phones? 

It was fun. We got dressed up, had a fancy dinner and stayed out all night just like adults. The only lasting memory from that long evening are the photos we had taken.

Four weeks later we were caught up in summer jobs, packing for college and looking ahead. Prom was already reduced to a few photos.  Now, 48 years later, Patrice and I are still friends but I admit the topic of our prom doesn’t come up often, except for the tuxes. What were we thinking?

 

Send your prom memories to flipsidecolumn@gmail.com.

 

Fifty Year Old Music Still Rocks

 

What music were you listening to fifty years ago.  If you’re about my age, your stack of rock albums might have included Eat a Peach (Allman Brothers), Exile on Main Street (Rolling Stones) and Foxtrot  (Genesis).

If you preferred your music on the lighter side you probably owned Honky Chateau (Elton John), Catch Bull at Four (Cat Stevens) and Harvest (Neil Young).   The top country album in 1972 was Will the Circle Be Unbroken by the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band.  Good Hearted Woman (Waylon Jennings) and Let Me Tell You A Song (Merle Haggard) followed on the top selling lp list.

Fifty years sounds like a long time ago but the music from 1972 is still in circulation and listeners of a certain age have their ITunes and Spotify playlists loaded with “oldies” from the seventies.

The term oldies is hard to define.  Top 40 radio station programmers in the 1970’s considered any music made between the early 1950’s and mid 60’s to be oldies.  Using that same standard, Adele’s Rolling in the Deep and Katy Perry’s Fireworks are now officially oldies.

The classic 1972 tune American Pie often pops up on playlists fifty years later.  Can you imagine listening to the radio in 1972 and hearing fifty-year-old music?  The top artists of 1922 included Al Jolson, Fanny Brice and the Paul Whiteman Orchestra. The answer to the question is “no way would you hear Al Jolson on a popular radio station in 1972.”

The fact is that old music is more popular now than ever before.  A recent article in the Atlantic Monthly magazine reported that old songs represent 70% of the U.S. music market and that number is increasing. The article went on to say that vinyl recordings are now outselling CD’s with a large piece of those vinyl sales in reissues of “old” artists and albums.

I would like to arrogantly declare that old music – my music – is better and that’s why it sells more. Of course, it’s not that simple.  New music still remains very popular with young people but it doesn’t have much of a shelf life.  Younger listeners want to hear new songs at dance clubs and on pop radio stations but they don’t stop by the record store or the App Store to buy that new music.  They are more content to accept the playlist that streams over their car speakers.

In contrast, I bought Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon album in 1973. I then bought the 8-track in 1974 and the cassette in 1977. I had to have the pure compact disc version in 1982 and eventually downloaded it from ITunes in 2002.  Now I just yell “Hey Google play Dark Side of the Moon” and it happens. How cool is that?

I think much of the old music has survived because it is also good music. Old folks like me appreciate their quality and younger folks might discover their parents listened to some pretty cool music when they were in high school.

That doesn’t mean all 1972 music was good.  In the top five records of the year, we see Chuck Berry’s My Ding-a-Ling, Michael Jackson’s Ben and Melanie’s epic Brand New Key.  You just don’t hear those classics much anymore although I’m still waiting for release of the ten album Melanie retrospective. Maybe next year.

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Quarantine Like Its 1969

I found myself building a car model last weekend.  It was raining and I found a half-built ’69 Dodge Dart Revell model in my closet. It was started about 15 years ago on a rainy day by my daughter and me.  It stopped raining, she lost interest and we literally forgot about it.

So here I was on COVID day twenty-eight struggling to connect an exhaust system to a manifold. I came to the same conclusion I did when I was 12.  This pretend driver will never need an exhaust system.  I will just leave it out.  With that fast track approach, I finished the model in about two hours.  However, I pity the first person who tries to drive a car with no suspension or exhaust.

Like many people, the thought of staying at home for weeks at a time didn’t seem so bad with an Ipad and a laptop. What I hadn’t anticipated was spending many hours each day in Zoom calls on that laptop or answering emails on that Ipad.  I have become literally burned out on my own technology.

The year that real ’69 Dodge Dart first hit the streets I turned 13 years old. When my friends Gary and Bill were on vacation or otherwise occupied, I was trapped into entertaining myself at home – alone – with no technology.  Can you imagine?

TV wasn’t an option during the day and any suggestion that I had nothing to do might lead to some household chores. So, I disappeared to my attic or basement and kept busy.  I was too old for Matchbox cars so I might set up the HO scale slot cars for two hours.  Then I would play with them for maybe fifteen minutes and spend an hour taking them down.

I might build a tower of baseball cards at the bottom of the stairs and kill time flipping cards down the stairs to destroy it. I could update my stamp collection with the packets of stamps that kept arriving by mail.  I considered reading the latest issue of Mad Magazine and Sports Illustrated as an intellectual activity, but my favorite solo activity was building models.

An entire afternoon could be pleasantly consumed for only $2.99 and some paint.  I was never very good at building them, but the challenge was there. It was great.

Just like Buzz and Woody in Toy Story, my models eventually got boxed up and stashed in the basement.  Years later, after we got married, decisions had to be made about how much of my “stuff” was coming with us and how much would become junk.  

I didn’t put up a fight over the models.  They would not match our newlywed décor.  I stacked them up, shot some photographs and dropped the box in the trash.  It was not an emotional moment, but I do remember thinking about all those quiet, rainy afternoons they represented.

I was right back there last weekend with that ’69 Dart.  It was a nice place to be and for a while. Being quarantined like it’s 1969 wasn’t so bad.

Remembering Fish Friday For The Wrong Reason

 

I was never a big fan of fish.  As a kid in a Catholic home, I assumed eating fish during the Lenten season was a form of penance.  My mother would probably have agreed with that– but not about eating the fish. The penance for her was getting her kids to eat fish.

Catholics have abstained from eating meat on Fridays since the earliest times. The reasons may have changed over the centuries but the practice remains.  In the early days, forgoing meat was forgoing a luxury. This was especially true in the Middle East, where meat was scarce and fish was plentiful.  Ironically, fish is now the luxury and meat is more or less affordable. 

The tradition of abstaining from meat never required one to eat fish.  That memo never reached our home so every Friday during Lent we had fish.  Of course, the 1960’s were the peak of processed foods.  We never had fresh fish but the canned tuna and salmon harvest in our home was plentiful.

Tuna was the preferred choice for my brother and I. Thank goodness for Chicken of the Sea. It somehow tasted less like fish. Fortunately, I never made the connection between their logo – a mermaid - and the can of fish.  Even so, mom had to disguise the fish as tuna casserole with cream sauce and peas.  Apparently, this most popular family dish was created by Campbells Soup in the 1940s although fish parts in crème sauce was an old 1800’s dish called cod a la bechamel.

Salmon came straight from the can in patties much like SpongeBob’s crabby patties. The best part of salmon cakes was the potato pancakes mom served with them.  The “pancakes” were served with applesauce. For a kid who gagged on salmon, two full tablespoons of applesauce helped the salmon go down.

Fish sticks could also be consumed with a generous amount of catsup or mashed potatoes. General Foods introduced fish sticks in 1953 under their Birdseye brand. They were part of a rectangular food stick line that included chicken sticks, ham sticks, veal sticks and dried lima bean sticks – egad. Only fish sticks survived and became the preferred choice in many countries where the quality of fish was suspect. Fish sticks also solved a bigger problem. Fishing technology after WWII led companies to overfish. To keep from spoiling, the extra fish was processed into frozen sticks - Yum.

Abstaining from meat on Fridays for Catholics became optional in 1966 when U.S. Bishops allowed members to replace the abstinence with other forms of penance. There was little argument from our household.  Fish Fridays soon became Pizza Fridays and all was good with the world. I haven’t eaten a salmon cake since.

It was never about fish of course. It was about abstaining from something we desire to focus our thoughts on more important things. It’s a big month for that as Christians prepare for Easter, Jews celebrate Passover and Muslims prepare for Eid al-Fitr, a feast that follows one month of fasting and reflection. Happy celebrations to all our Allen neighbors.

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