Consumer Catalog

They ran Consumer Information catalog all the time in the late 70s/ early 80s. I recall seeing one of these back in the day and they really did have some information on most any subject. You could get the booklets in other public places as well. I recall grabbing a buttload of them and marking them up with my friends to make them funny.




These commercials are responsible for me knowing by heart the zip code of Pueblo Colorado. This information has yet to come in handy.

The new dance craze that's sweeping the nation

Sometimes in the heat of the summer, tossing and turning in the night, I awake with this song going through my head. The only thing that can relieve my anguish is listening to Supertramp in my conversion van at full volume.

More Toys of my misspent youth

I got a Stretch Monster when I was a kid. I think I used my birthday money, but I can't be sure. I may have wanted a Stretch Armstrong and they were out, I don't know. I prefer to think that Stretch Armstrong was a bit too pro wrestler for me. Either way, it's a lame toy, especially if you're not someone who enjoys playing tug-of-war with a friend... if you have any.




I also had a Six-Million Dollar Man. He came with an engine block to demonstrate his unprecedented strength. He was a 13-inch action figure, which meant he was a bit too big. That didn't stop my sisters from borrowing him for use with barbie (they had no Ken). After a "Barbie date" one afternoon, I came down to the basement to find Steve Austin totally stripped down to his bionic underwear (painted on). Scandalous!

Later I got a Maskatron. While not featured on the series like the bionic bigfoot, he was cool in that he could pose as either Oscar Goldman, Steve Austin, or some generic guy with arched eyebrows. Maskatron had interchangeable arms, featuring a claw-ish thing (possibly for scooping kitty litter), and a suction cup for... erm... picking up Doobie Brothers albums when they fall behind the hi-fi, I guess. He had a compartment in his back for hiding his masks, sort of like Mr. Potatohead does. Of course he had the terrible West World blind robot syndrome. When the mask is removed, the resulting computer-face has no eyes.


I really wanted the Oscar Goldman with exploding briefcase. Goldman was sort of lame in the series. More of a bureaucrat than action dude. He was necessary for exposition and setup of the plot of the show, but hardly worth making into an action figure. The briefcase, though. Wow!

Peanut Butter... Chocolate!

It's delicious!

And believe it or not, this is actually how the Reeses Peanut Butter Cup came into being. Others may have you believe that we took this secret from the Nazis and their unethical experimental test kitchens. Not so. It all started at the Met.

Martini and Rossi

Well this isn't the first time Jaclyn Smith tried to get me drunk on cheap wine. Seems to me like putting ice in wine is the sort of thing the uncultured do. They might also add a bit of Sprite to give it some zest. Say yes.




Orson freakin' Welles was selling wine later in his career. If you lived during the 70s you saw this or its like a great many times. It bothers me greatly that Welles scared the hell out of the US with his amazing War of the Worlds broadcast, got complete creative control of his first film Citizen Kane, by far one of the best films ever, and finished up his career with a voice role in Transformers: The Movie (not the Michael Bay one, either). I guess it's sort of the Elvis ending. Live an amazing life, then die on the crapper (literally or figuratively).

Who can forget this classic?  It forever cemented a clydesdale/beer connection in so many of us that even now, when I see horses with hairy hooves I just gotta have a beer.  This is back before Spuds Mackenzie stole our hearts and livers.  Before the Bud-Wise-Er frogs... erm... existed.  Before Waaaaaaaaaazzzzzzzzzzzzzzuuuuuuuuuuuuuup made us want to tell co-workers to just shut up, okay?