Gadgets – Page 7 – I Remember JFK: A Baby Boomer's Pleasant Reminiscing Spot

Push-Button Telephones

There are a lot of young folks out there who have never seen a rotary-dial phone. In fact, some have never heard a dial tone! That is a pretty amazing fact for those of us who can remember when touchtone phones, or push-button phones as we knew them, were a rare sight.

Rotary phones were the standard, and some of our homes had phones that dated back to the forties or fifties. After all, the phone belonged to the phone company, not us. We had them replaced if they broke. And they were amazingly reliable pieces of technology that simply didn’t break.

But seeing how the times were a-changing, the telephone technology itself was modernizing. In fact, entire generations can see quantum leaps of how we communicate by voice over wires. Our grandparents didn’t have phones. Our parents had to crank a handle to reach an operator, who would then connect them to the party they sought. We were spoiled, indeed, to merely dial a number.

Today, of course, our kids know about cell phones and VOIP. But touchtone phones were a big deal to us. It was so cool to hear tones play! Songbooks were even released, so we could make music while making calls that, if they connected, reached perfect strangers.

The first AT&T touchtone phones were introduced with ten numeric keys only in 1963. It took five years for the pound and star keys to show up.

Adoption was steady, but it took a long time for them to appear in some areas. My small town first offered them in the mid 70’s.

Nowadays, it’s probably been a while since you’ve called a business and heard a recorded voice say something like “if you have a touchtone phone, you may dial your extension now.” And rotary phones won’t even work on many phone companies’ lines any more.But once upon a time, the touchtone phone was new, cool, and hard to find.

Punch Card Bills

We enjoy a love-hate relationship with our computers. When they work well, they’re our pets. But when the act up (generally because most of us are stuck running Windows), we fantasize about throwing them in the nearest body of salt water.

But by and large, we were exposed to computers in some form or another at an early age. And we accepted their usefulness, and ran out and got our own as soon as they got cheap enough. Now our Depression-surviving parents were another matter. For the most part, they had a deep-seated distrust of thinking machines that came along well after they had learned how to get along, and especially pay bills, without them.

In fact, if there was any sort of technological glitch, they were quick to blame those blasted computers.

So when many of their bills started showing up in the mail during the 60’s as punch card bills, they were quick to scorn the newfangled things.

It was a no-brainer for utility companies to send out bills on cards that could be inserted into a reader for quick data entry, as opposed to paying someone to hand-type the payee’s information in (and increase the risk of errors). But that didn’t mean our parents had to like it.

They were used to seeing newspaper stories about folks getting billed a million dollars and some change for a month’s water usage. And of course, the accounts always blamed the problem on a computer error.

The truth be known, the mainframe computers in use were some of the most reliable machines man has ever built. The error was invariably the fault of a programmer or someone’s mistyped data entry.

Punch cards used to be one of our most common sights. Dumpsters outside office buildings would contain hundreds of thousands of them, long before recycling caught on.

Nowadays, you can buy them on eBay as collector’s items. But we Boomers can remember mom or dad opening those bills and griping about how computers were taking over the world.

Portable Eight-Track Players

We had some great radio in the late 60’s-early 70’s. If you lived near the middle of the US, you got WLS at night, the greatest rock and roll station in history, IMHO. But daytime was another matter.

The FCC directed WLS to throttle its power way back in the daytime. In my small town, FM was in the future. AM was country music. An honorable genre loved by its fans, it was hated by me.

That left one alternative: the portable eight-track player.

In this day and age of hundreds of hours of music that fits in a player small enough to clip to your belt, eight-track tapes seem prehistoric. But they were cool to own circa 1971. Sure, they faded in and out between switching tracks (creating some unique memories of songs that now don’t quite sound right without it!) and were prone to breaking after many playings, but we still loved them.

Hundreds of thousands of portable players were sold so we could take our music with us wherever we went. Like the tapes themselves, they were of great mass. Big enough to run on four or more D-cell batteries, call them alpha-version iPods.

The coolest ever designed was the pictured Panasonic Plunger. Switching tracks was like blowing something up! Does that rock, or what?

Of course, portability meant not only toting a player. You also had a suitcase full of tapes to listen to. That meant somebody else had to carry the cooler and towels to the beach.

Eight-track tapes still have their fans, and some bands are even releasing new music in the venerable format! For everything you ever wanted to know about the plastic containers of music, visit http://www.8trackheaven.com/.

Popperknockers

Popperknockers. We loved ’em, we just didn’t know what to call them. They were officially known as “Klackers,” but most of us who carried the noisy, infernal, dangerous things around made up our own names, some a bit on the racy side. I preferred popperknockers.

According to Wikipedia, other names included Klick-Klacks, Whackers, Ker-Knockers, Whack’os, Bangers, Poppers, Knockers, Bonkers, Clackers, Clack Clacks, Crackers, K-Nokkers, Knockers, Mini Poppers, Popper Knockers, Rockers, Super Clackers, Quick Klacks, Quick Clacks, Quick Wacks, Wackers, Whak Kos, and Zonkers. Yeesh!

Their premise was the height of simplicity. Two acrylic spheres on a piece of string with a plastic handle located in the middle. They hung straight down, and upward and downward motions of your hand made them pop into each other, making one of the most familiar sound heard in the 60’s and 70’s.

They came with an instruction sheet, but there wasn’t a whole lot of technique involved. Sure, you could do the razzle-dazzle stuff like reach back between your legs and do 180 pops, aka the surfer, of move 180 pops around in a big vertical circle, aka orbiting around the world, but for the most part, we pacifists used them as therapy. The steady pop-pop-pop assured us that all was well, and we walked around the streets and hallways (until they were ultimately banned from school) producing the soothing cadence.

Of course, not all popperknocker owners were so peaceful. Bullies relished the toys as weapons. Many a fat or skinny kid suffered black eyes or bruises at the wrong end of the plastic orbs.

Thus, they were eventually removed from all of our hands. In today’s society where every item we buy comes with a warning label designed to keep drooling morons from injuring themselves with, say, a roll of toilet paper, the idea of heavy hard balls suspended on a string seems ridiculous, particularly in the hands of children.

Too bad. We stressed-out, overworked Boomers could sure use a reassuring pop-pop-pop to tell us that all is still well.

Pong Comes to Town

I vividly remember when I first saw the marvel of the 1970’s that was called Pong. I walked into the Rogers, Arkansas bowling alley in 1974, shortly after I got my motorcycle license and was enjoying the freedom of getting around on my own for the first time. There, among the pinball machines and pool tables, sat a table with a clear glass top. Under the glass was a TV screen showing a dot of light being hit back and forth between two flat bars of light. It was obvious that it was an electronic clone of ping-pong.

This was pretty amazing stuff. Arcade games all had one thing in common: they were machines. They consisted of plastic and metal parts that worked via gears, belts, and the like. A car driving game consisted of a little car on a stick that moved back and forth as you “steered” it through obstacles that were attached to a moving belt. Baseball was a game where a ball came rolling at the home plate, and you swung by operating a plastic bat that sent the ball back onto the field.

Suddenly, before me sat a game that was completely electronic! The quarters were practically jumping out of my pocket.

Pong first appeared as a release of arcade games by Atari in 1972. Tennis was a natural first choice for digitization. After all, way back in 1958, a tennis game similar to Pong was created by Willy Higganbottham, only viewed like you were sitting at half court at ground level.

By 1976, Pong games were everywhere. And there were generally people playing on every one you saw. You could also buy home versions that turned many a TV set into a tennis court.

About this time, more sophisticated games started coming out, and Pong began fading away. But its very simplicity ensured that it would always be around in the form of computer games.

For everything you would ever want to know about Pong and its history, check out http://www.pong-story.com/

Pointy Glasses

In my photo albums from the 60’s, every woman over the age of thirty is wearing a pair of these pointy glasses.

These were quite the craze among the WWII generation, that is, our mothers and aunts. My mom had at least three pairs of them, which she was always losing and imploring me to help her find.

However, the glasses were also a hit with many of the younger generation as well. Pointy glasses and stirrup pants adorned at least a few nubile figures in advertisements of the day.

All of my grade school teachers wore them, too. In fact, Mrs. Finley looked pretty hot in them!

Then, I would see a picture of my sweet Aunt Leah, and I would be brought back to earth.

Most of my aunts (and my mom) moved on to big plastic in the 70’s. But many who have reached their golden years continue to wear the 1960’s-signature pointy glasses. Here’s to all of them.

Plastic Pink Flamingos

Sometimes, our childhood Boomer memories are of things that never went out of style, that continue to exist in an unchanged state today.

That is the fortunate case with plastic pink flamingos that our mothers would plant around the big concrete birdbaths in the back yards that we had. Odds are that you, or your kids, have a set of them that are pretty much identical to their 1950’s ancestors.

That’s because pink plastic flamingos have a staying power that transcends faddishness. Over their lifetimes, they have been gone from status symbols to tasteless icons of White Trash, and everywhere in between. But despite whatever social status they may have presented, they have always stubbornly existed in large numbers.

It all began with the building boom that existed with the pre-Depression economy of the 1920’s. Tens of thousands of real estate speculators and tourists headed to our “tropical” state: Florida. They spent their money on lots and beachfront property. Many brought home souvenirs bearing pictures of a bizarre pink bird that lived there – the flamingo.

Displaying flamingos implied that you, too, were a Florida investor. Everyone wanted flamingo decorations, and the American business machine was more than happy to provide them.

Wallpaper, gift wrapping paper, fabrics, product packaging, and much more began being decorated with images of pink flamingos.

But it wasn’t until 1952 that pink flamingos first ventured out into midwestern lawns. The Union Plastics Company of Massachusetts introduced a pink flamingo lawn ornament. The first ones were simply flat representations on a stick leg. Nothing too intriguing about that. They tried making three-dimensional styrofoam models the next year that sold better. However, if the yard in which they resided contained a dog or two, many of them were quickly shredded to bits by the playful canines.

Like the helpful uncle in The Graduate, a magic word popped up in Product Development: plastics.

The first atomic-pink molded plastic lawn flamingo went on sale in 1957. The brightly-colored durable birds were a smash hit, and millions of American housewives, including my own dear mother, went out and bought them. Many a 1960’s era photo of the back yard included the ubiquitous flamingos dutifully standing tall in the grass.

But as we drew into the 1970’s, the pink plastic flamingo began to take on an air of disgrace, not unlike the stereotypical black jockey ornaments also seen across white America. Indeed, pink flamingos were as White Trash as abandoned cars in the side yard.

That tone was picked up on by people who like to do what I do: stir the pot. If snooty neighbors looked down on pink plastic flamingos, there was only one thing to do: Go buy some!

Flamingos were back on the must-have list by the mid 80’s (with lots of help from the mega-popular Miami Vice), and have pretty much stayed there. Indeed, their trashy reputation they gained in the 70’s makes them more appealing than ever now. In fact, one of urban America’s most loved practical jokes is to “flock” your neighbor, i.e. put dozens of plastic pink flamingos in their front yard during the night. It’s a good-natured shock to their system when they step out in a bathrobe to get the morning paper and are confronted with a sea of pink birds.

Many towns have a business or two that specializes in the undercover planting of flocks of flamingos.

So here’s to a bit of Americana that has survived trendiness, the judgments of the self-righteous, and the test of time.

Phone Booths

Ah, the services that we grew up with we took for granted would always exist. The guy at the gas station would always be willing to throw in some nice freebie just so we would continue to buy his fuel. Your favorite AM station would continue to blast great rock and roll music across the country after dark. And you could always duck into a phone booth to make a call insulated from the elements and noise of the street.

Individual telephone booths still exist, but the ones that do have been in place for many years. As they decay, they are being removed, to be replaced by small standalone kiosk phones, or perhaps not being replaced at all.

After all, we all carry cell phones nowadays, don’t we?

Telephone booths first began showing up in American city street corners late in the 19th century. Besides providing a nice shelter for making a call, they also isolated the user and the outside world from each other, necessary for the welfare of both. The noise outside was a distraction for the caller, but he/she also had to practically shout into the phone to get their lossy signal to the other end at a volume discernible to the callee.

Phone companies were making good money from phone booth customers, so they began proliferating all over the country. By the 60’s, a phone booth could be seen at practically any corner grocery, gas station, or supermarket, as well as many busy street intersections. It seemed that you were never more than a few hundred feet away from a phone booth.

It became a part of American culture. We all know where Superman preferred to change his wardrobe. Phone booths became familiar places for plot twists and high drama in movies and television shows. And of course, the opening scene of Get Smart would feature Don Adams disappearing in a phone booth in order to get into CONTROL headquarters. Plus, college students of the 50’s delighted in seeing just how many individuals that could be stuffed into them at one time.

But we Boomers used them for their actual purpose, as well. I made hundreds of phone calls from booths. Many times, it was for the purpose of getting a little privacy (as in a homebound teenager calling a young lady ;-). But when you were away from home in the 60’s and 70’s, making a phone call meant finding a phone booth. You simply didn’t have any other options.

The numbers of phone booths in the US peaked in the late 60’s. They were expensive, and also not very accessible to the handicapped. Their days were clearly numbered. Free-standing telephone pedestals would usually replace phone booths that had become decrepit, as they were wont to do. Indeed, phone booths were often pretty disgusting places to be. Grime and trash would build up in their confines, and who had the job of keeping them clean? Nobody, that I can recall, except perhaps nearby business owners.

A few phone booths persist. Perhaps you have one somewhere close to where you live.

If so, slip inside, drop a quarter into the slot, and make a call for old time’s sake. Who knows, for just a moment, you might be able to take a little trip in time back to when gas was cheap, Sullivan was on Sunday nights, and JFK’s death was still recent enough to hurt. Pretty good investment of 25 cents, wouldn’t you say?

The Penny Scale at the Drug Store

There weren’t many things that a Boomer kid could spring for without bugging mom or dad for a nickel. Basically, such an item had to cost a penny. While nickels were hard for a kid to come by, pennies could be found in all sorts of places. You might spot one or two in the kitchen junk drawer. Digging in the dirt could possibly uncover one. It wasn’t unusual to spot a cent lying on the sidewalk.

So what could a kid do with a single penny, besides springing for a miniature Tootsie Roll?

He could take advantage of a finely-tuned scientific instrument that could be found in many small-town locations, drug stores in particular. He could spring for getting weighed.

The penny scale was a wonderfully massive thing to a kid. It was big, heavy, and stable. And it was just tall enough that it made a kid feel big to be able to see the weight window. Plus, a child with a penny could become a paying customer with no help from a parent, something that would make him feel grown up.

The penny scales were produced by the hundreds of thousands during the Great Depression, mainly (in the US) by rivals Peerless Scale Company and National Scale Company.

If a guy could scrape fifty bucks together during the 1930’s, he could make some serious money. That was the price of a brand new penny scale. Placing it in a well-traveled location could result in a cool 50-100 bucks a month. That was a pretty amazing turnaround on a modest investment! It’s hard to imagine that anyone ever got rich through penny scales, but they made for many a wealthy Depression-era entrepreneur.

After all, even in the economic darkness, EVERYBODY had a spare penny!

By 1950, inexpensive bathroom scales were readily available to consumers. Thus began the gradual disappearance of the ubiquitous street-corner scale.

But many businesses still had 40+ year-old scales in use in the 60’s. And hey, if they were bought and paid for, why not let them earn a few dollars per month?

Sadly, in the years since, they have pretty much vanished. So have the friendly corner drugstores that were the last havens of the massive weight-measuring machines. I defy you to spot a penny scale at Walgreen’s.

I recall that the scales would typically have a metal shade that would block the weight reading. Dropping a penny in the slot would cause it to move aside. If you really strained, you might be able to see your weight through a small crack that wasn’t covered by the shade.

The fancier models that would give you your fortune would have two movable shades, the second one being dislodged by a considerably more dear nickel. I’m not sure I ever wanted to know my fortune that badly, when I could get a Payday to munch on for the same price.

Other scales that I remember had trivia questions or horoscopes available in addition to your weight.

You can still find antique penny scales for sale. They have become hot collectibles, though, so don’t expect to obtain one for the original 50-dollar price tag.

For me, I’ll just have to close my eyes and take a virtual trip back to the Rexall Drug on Miami’s Main Street circa 1967. It feels good to drop my own penny in and become a paying customer.

Party Lines

If you grew up in a city, the subject of today’s column may not ring any bells, so to speak. But if you grew up in small town America, or perhaps grew up in the country, you no doubt remember the concept of a party line.

As America was wired for telephone service, it was impossible to give everyone their own private line. So neighbors would share a single connection, each having their own phone number. Strange stuff, but it made sense to Ma Bell.

Now consider what was required to complete a phone call in Centerton, Arkansas circa 1971: A line, shared by ten or so households, would have to be unoccupied. Otherwise, the caller would get a busy signal.

That meant that if you had a neighbor who liked to yak, you would miss lots of calls. Not good.

Of course, we had a neighbor lady who loved talking on the phone. And, more than once, she had to be tactfully told that an important call was expected, and could she please hang up for a while. And no, she didn’t like being asked AT ALL.

I don’t know why. She would enjoy listening in on the conversations of others almost as much as she loved having her own.

Party line users soon became adept at knowing the telltale signs that another neighbor was listening in. The call, particularly if long distance, would have line noise mixed in with the other person’s voice. However, a nosy neighbor’s breathing, etc. would come in crystal clear.

I grew up with three different party lines. The first one was when we moved to southwest Missouri, three miles up a dirt road out in the middle of nowhere. We lived there for nearly a year before we even GOT a phone! It took that long for the phone company to run new wires. Important calls would be made from a pay phone at a store on the main highway. So the nuisance of other neighbors using the same line was welcome, after being cut off from the world!

At least our phone rang independently, on all of the party lines we had. We visited a friend once whose phone rang several times an hour. I asked her why she didn’t answer it, and she told me that her ring was “two shorts and a long.” That’s when I noticed that the rings were in different patterns, sort of like Morse code.

Imagine getting used to constantly ringing phone in your house, to be ignored 90% of the time!

Nowadays everybody has their own connection. By 2004, there were about 5000 homes hooked up to party lines, but 90% of THOSE had only one party. Weird, I know, but that’s how the phone companies classify them. So in reality, about 500 families still have to wait for the line to clear before they can talk.

My problem is the opposite one: I have TOO STINKING MANY phone lines! I still have a land line, because it comes with the DSL. But I also have that lovely little cell phone that always seems to go off at bad times.

However, we children of the 50’s, 60’s, and 70’s can recall a time when making a call sometimes meant politely asking a neighbor to hang up, and then making sure she STAYED hung up!