Rondo Thirst

In the summer of 1979, I started seeing commercials for a new soft drink called Rondo that strongly appealed to my adolescent male self. In the commercial, we'd see guys engaging in extreme sports or other vigorous activity as a macho-sounding voiceover said, "This man is working up a Rondo Thirst. And when he gets done, he's doesn't want a soda that he has to sip. He's gonna want a Rondo!"

Next we'd see one of the dudes swigging one down from an aluminum can, with sweat dripping off his face and droplets of soda-pop coming off the side of his mouth, while the voiceover continued, "Rondo is lightly carbonated so you can slam it down fast! Rondo has a clean citrus taste that's never sticky!" Finally, the dude in the commercial would crush the aluminum can he just slammed down in his fist and the voiceover said, "Rondo! The thirst crusher!" The label even looked like a beer can with the word "premium" and the slogan "blended from fine essences."

The commercial inspired lots of young guys like myself to drink Rondo, and even challenge our friends to Rondo-slamming contests, where we'd see who could slam one down the fastest, with the winner being determined by who would crush the emptied can first in his bare hand, just like in the commercial. (Try impressing the girls with THAT. "Hey babe, I'm a champion Rondo slammer!") In my area, Rondo was also available in 16 oz. returnable glass bottles, which would be a lot more difficult (not to mention dangerous) to crush in your bare hand. 

Rondo, marketed by Cadbury-Schweppes, originated in Australia as a soft drink called Solo, with a nearly identical label and commercials (with an Aussie-accented macho voiceover). The name was changed to Rondo in the U.S. because at the time, there was a brand of dog food called Solo. A Cadbury-Schweppes spokesman said in a July 1979 article for the Washington Post-LA Times wire service, "The word Rondo really has no meaning. It's just a computer name...but it sounds familiar and macho, doesn't it?" 

The product was test marketed in 1977 and 1978, rolled out nationally in 1979 and was "aimed at the 14-to-25-year-old active male segment because they are the single biggest consumers of soft drinks. And these heavy users are seeking a thirst-quenching, lower carbonated drink with less sugar," according to an industry spokesman in the Post-Times article. In 1980, sugar-free Rondo was introduced with a softer ad campaign.

By about 1981, the marketers decided those Rondo commercials were a little too macho, that they were actively turning off female consumers (who do most of the grocery buying). New commercials featured people relaxing in various outdoor settings while an adult contemporary-style jingle sang, "Sippin' a Rondo is laid-back and easy." (I can tell you, those commercials actively turned ME off. I didn't want something to sip, I wanted something to slam down fast! Whiskey is for sippin'.) 

Sales plummeted further, and the macho dude commercials made a brief comeback, but by 1984, Rondo was no longer available, at least in my area. 

The Husker Du Subliminal Scandal

In the Holiday Season of 1973, commercials were appearing on local TV stations across the US for a packaged family game called Husker Du (not related to the 1980s band by that name). According to advertising, "In Denmark and around the world, Husker Du means 'Do you remember?'" The game, which involved memorizing symbols on a playing board, was promoted as "a memory exerciser that's fun for children and adults alike" and "a great family game that increases your alertness." Nothing nefarious about that. However, it was discovered soon after the commercials hit the airwaves in late November that a single frame spliced in at four strategic points in the 60 second spot shot on 16 mm film flashed the message "Get It" for a fraction of a second, raising concerns about "subliminal advertising."

Recreation of the "subliminal message."

The idea behind so-called subliminal messaging was that viewers would be influenced by the message without actually noticing it. But viewers did notice and complained to the television stations airing the spot and the Federal Communications Commission (FCC). According to an article published in the New York Times on December 27, 1973 (and in other newspapers), "The commercial was carried by hundreds of stations across the country, most of which edited out the 'subliminal' frames after being alerted by the television code authority of the National Association of Broadcasters (NAB) that the advertisement violated its rules. The product's distributor, Premium Corporation of America, also alerted stations after receiving a number of complaints."

Sam McLeod, general manager of the marketing division of Premium Corporation of America claimed he hadn't noticed the "get it" frames when reviewing the commercial for approval, saying, "Unless you know it's there, you don't catch it," and that the subliminal messages were "an honest mistake, the result of deadline pressures to get the commercial into circulation in time for the Christmas season," according to the Times. He also blamed what he called "an exuberant young man" at the Minneapolis-based commercial production firm Lowe & Associates, saying, "The fellow thought he had invented something no one ever thought of before." 

When he got wind of it, McLeod said he sent telegrams to all the stations running the spot telling them to edit out the frames or simply paint them black. "We made every effort to clean it up, and I'd guess we were 99 percent successful," he told the Times, adding that the commercial was not "pitched at the little ones" and that it aired primarily during "adult" programs in daytime and late night. He said he was sure the problem had been cleared up within the first week.

However, according to the article, several stations continued to air the spot unedited, prompting a Washington-based consumer advocate named Robert B. Choate to file a complaint with the Federal Trade Commission (FTC) and the FCC. Choate claimed to have seen the "get it" version airing as late as December 19 at 11:32 a.m. on WPIX-TV in New York and that it was still airing on stations in Chicago, Detroit and Tucson. It was pointed out that the New York and Tuscon stations were not members of the NAB Code Authority.

The commercial was scheduled to end its run just before Christmas 1973, and after that, Husker Du continued to be sold, and advertised, without any major controversies. Several Husker Du commercials from the 1970s can be found on YouTube, but not the "get it" version (although a subtly awkward edit can be detected near the end of one of them). The above illustration is strictly a recreation. 

Sears Folklore from 1915

Sears, Roebuck & Company was founded in Chicago as a mail-order retailer in 1892, offering merchandise at reasonable prices to a mostly rural nation. In the beginning they sold watches and jewelry but soon they were offering through their catalogs sent out across the United States almost everything one could possibly want, including groceries, at a time when much of the population was far from the nearest town let alone big city, and transportation was still mostly by horse. 

The Sears, Roebuck catalog was a big part of American life going into the 20th Century and beyond, and became a big part of the American folklore. The early editions have been reprinted as books, with their whimsical descriptions of the merchandise offered and other interesting tidbits that were included in the pages of the old catalogs.

Here's a quaint short story found in the 1915 Sears, Roebuck grocery catalog, in the coffee section. It conjures up a time when one traveling between towns in rural America on a snowy winter day might actually be able to stop at a farmhouse somewhere along the way and be offered a cup of coffee by the farmer's wife, both having no worries about something going terribly wrong. 

How a Good Cup of Coffee Won Us a Customer

     A SALESMAN who was traveling through the country between two small towns stopped at a farmhouse and asked the good housewife to make him a cup of coffee. A few moments later he was entering the house where the pleasant cheer of the warm and comfortable dining room was indeed a delightful contrast to the cold, blustering snowstorm of that December day. To the salesman the room was made even more inviting by the pervading aroma of coffee, a beverage which he loved. A look of delight and surprise played over his face as he drank the steaming hot coffee, between raids on a large sugary cinnamon roll, and accepted the housewife's invitation for another cup.

   

 "Pardon me, madam, but that's the finest cup of coffee I've tasted since I came West. It has that particular coffee flavor I like. Would you tell me, please, what brand of coffee you use? Or maybe it's the way you make it," he added.

     "Oh, it must be the coffee," the woman responded, "for I don't go to any 'extras' in making it, except that I'm particular about not letting it boil, and I never use over old grounds. It's the kind of coffee, I'm sure, that makes you like it so much. This is Montclair Brand, which we get from Sears, Roebuck and Co., of Chicago, where we order all our groceries. Just write a card, asking them for their Grocery Catalog, and they'll send it very promptly."

     "Oh, that's fine," the salesman replied; "then I, too, can get it very easily. But tell me, will your second order have the same flavor as your first? So many brands of coffee on the market do not remain uniform from month to month or year to year. That's been my greatest trouble after I found a coffee I liked."

     "Oh, yes, indeed, a brand of coffee remains uniform when you get it of Sears, Roebuck and Co.," the housewife said quickly. "They make pretty strong claims on that point, and we've been able to prove them out. We've used Montclair Brand for about a year now, and have never noticed any change all the while."

     "Well, you've won a customer for that firm, and I shall count this a good day's work. Thank you so much," the salesman finished.

The Story of Hamm's Waldech Beer

Hamm’s beer collectibles are some of the most popular pieces of breweriana, but there’s one aspect of Hamm’s that doesn’t get much attention, a largely forgotten brand called Waldech. The brand always kind of interested me, with the black and gold labels on green bottles and the gothic images of castles in the advertising, not to mention it sounded like it would have been a good beer.

Waldech was a super-premium, all-malt and naturally-carbonated beer, much different from the flagship Hamm’s brand, although the name “Hamm’s” was prominent on the label. Introduced in 1963, it came out at a time when bland, yellow, fizzy beers dominated US beer sales. The name was said to be taken from the ancestral home of then-Hamm's president William C. Figge in North Germany. Early advertising claimed it was “The new third taste in beer,” not like a domestic and not like an import, but with its own unique character. It was slow brewed in fairly small batches, so the availability was limited compared to something more mass-produced such as Hamm’s.

It was especially popular among a certain crowd in California, where Hamm’s operated two breweries at the time. San Francisco Chronicle columnist Charlie McCabe said of Waldech, “The best American beer I have tasted since before World War II.”  Bob Balzer of the Los Angeles Times said it had “long-lasting flavor. Our choice among many for its real beer taste, fine head and substantial body.” The Auburn (CA) Journal commented, “”A few glasses of Waldech will make you forget about taking tranquilizers.”

This full-bodied beer had lots of critical acclaim but was never a big seller, and was discontinued in 1975 (along with Hamm's Preferred Stock and a few other brands from the former Heublein ownership) when Olympia Brewing Company took over Hamm's. Perhaps it was ahead of its time.

Hamm’s Waldech was promoted in national magazines in the 1960s with full-color, full-page advertisements. Examples here are from 1964 and 1969. As the brand competed with Anheuser-Busch’s Michelob, they switched to a bottle that was more similar to Michelob, complete with a wrap-around gold label.

Hamm's Waldech napkins.

"Waldech on draught" neon sign.

Waldech was never sold in cans, however several prototype Waldech cans were made for the Theo. Hamm Brewing Company and were pictured in color on the cover of North Star Chapter Breweriana Club’s 1982 book, “Beer Cans of Minnesota.”

 

Marijuana In Your Supermarket

In October 2018, Canada stunned the world by legalizing recreational marijuana. The move was controversial to say the least, but in some quarters, people wonder what took so long. Meanwhile, the controversy continues to rage in the United States and is far from being ironed out. The day when one will be able to buy commercially produced marijuana packaged and sold in everyday retail stores like tobacco is still presumably a long way away, but almost five decades ago, a stodgy grocery industry trade magazine contemplated that very possibility – and the marketing opportunities that would come with pot legalization.

The January 1970 issue of Supermarketing (page 86), in a piece attached to an article about tobacco sales, suggested that legalization “no longer seems so remote as it once was.” It pointed out that the Nixon Administration had moved to differentiate the penalties between dealing and mere possession, as well as the penalties between marijuana offences and those of “harder” drugs. 

The “underground” press, Supermarketing reported, was claiming that “major tobacco companies already have acreages laid out and marketing plans on tap against the time when ‘grass’ becomes legal. But at least one marketing executive snorted, ‘That’s the biggest damn lie I ever heard.’”

Still, a tobacco magnate who chose to remain anonymous admitted, “Let’s face it – marijuana is already an American phenomenon spearheaded by youth and the middle classes. It’s growing day by day. I think that once we get away from the emotionalism that surrounds the subject now, the Government will in time realize it’s missing a good tax bet.” 

An ad agency creative exec (think Mad Men), who also chose to remain anonymous, speculated, “In the absence of any conclusive scientific evidence one way or the other as to whether ‘pot’ is harmful, I think it’ll eventually become legal. Prohibition demonstrated that you’re not going to make something disappear by making it illegal – and that’s part of the problem. Drugs today are what alcohol was in the 1920s, namely sin. And what legislator wants to go on record as being in favor of sin? But if everyone does it, it becomes less sinful.”

The ad exec went on to speculate, “Even with legalization, there’s every probability of an advertising ban – which would make ‘grass’ the first ‘new’ product with mass-market potential to emerge unaccompanied by advertising. Which will be very interesting to watch.”

The 1970 Supermarketing article concluded, “All of this may be so much conjectural blue haze. The opposition to marijuana remains strong among legislators, educators and parents. Its delights and dangers are still largely uncharted and it may indeed, in some cases, lead to an urge for stronger and more harmful drugs. Nevertheless, it may one day be sold across supermarket counters.”

If one were to travel back in time to 1970, and tell the people from then about "the future," would they really believe that the United States some fifty years later is still battling over the issue of marijuana legalization?

Zum-Zum-Zum, a Stein Song

In honor of National Tavern Month, we present the lyrics to "Zum-Zum-Zum, a Stein Song." Written by Oscar F. G. Day to accompany original music by Elmer Olson, this song was published in 1914 as sheet music by Minneapolis Brewing Company, to promote Zumalweiss beer. There was also a recorded version on a 78 r.p.m. record. 

Kind of a precursor to the radio and TV commercial jingle, it was a song that could be sung in the tavern while beering away the hours by the old piano. A pre-Prohibition classic. Minneapolis Brewing Company was best known as the brewers of Grain Belt beer until it went out of business in 1975. 




ZUM-ZUM-ZUM--A STEIN SONG

With your day's work completed,

With friends you are seated, 

In rathskeller, home or cafe,

What pleasure so pleasing,

From care your brain easing, 

As sipping the hours away

With joke and clear laughter, 

Who cares what comes after,

Dull care we have banished away

Each jolly good fellow,

Joins in with a mellow

“Here's ho” for it's time to be gay.

(Chorus:)

Zum Zum Zumalweiss

That is the music we all love to hear,

Room, room, room for good fellows

And welcome each one with a cheer

Let us join in a smile

For the beer that's worthwhile,

So here's to good old 

Zumalweiss and here's a health to all of us

With a laugh in each sip,

As it passes the lip,

That's the Zum Zum Zum Zumalweiss beer.

You may boast of your tipples,

Of champagne that ripples,

Or fizzes that fuddle your brain

Or urge of the bouquet,

Of sauterne or tokay,

Or sparkle of burgundy strain

Give me the pure shine and

The health from the stein-land,

That came when they taught how to brew

And I will be wiser

Than king, prince or kaiser,

Get wise to that Zumalweiss too.

(Repeat chorus)

What Goes Best With a Hot Dog?

"What goes best with a HOT DOG? Right...Beer or ale the way you like it...in those easy-to-open CAP-SEALED CANS!"

In the summer of 1940, a war was going on somewhere in Europe, and there was talk of some mad man taking over countries and slaughtering millions. But far away in the heartland of America, the main concern was rolling out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer. Those days of soda and pretzels and especially beer. And Continental Can Company wanted to convince people that their Cap-Sealed (cone top) beer can fit best with summertime activity.

The year before, six and a half million of the 30 million cases of canned beer sold had been consumed in July and August alone. With a recovering economy, all indications were that 1940 would be the biggest season yet, and the brewing and beer can industries were gearing up to meet the expected demand. For Continental and the 83 breweries using cone tops, it was a matter of convincing consumers that theirs was the superior package.

Continental embarked on an aggressive print advertising campaign, paid for through a cooperative arrangement with those brewers and beer distributors using their Cap-Sealed cans. Lively two-page spreads ran in popular magazines such as Life, Collier's and Liberty, featuring people having fun and discovering for themselves the advantages of the Cap-Sealed can.

There were nine spreads in all, pointing out the convenience of taking the can along for picnics, outings, cook-outs, parties and other occasions, stressing that no special opener was needed, unlike other types of beer cans that required a "church-key" opener ("opens just like a bottle"). You could drink from a "clean, cap-protected surface," and there were no empties to return. No environmental regulations, either.Once you consumed the contents, you could simply throw the can into the outhouse pit, sink it in the lake, toss it into the campfire or add it to a pile somewhere, where excited collectors could find it decades later. One of the ads depicted a young man, with his sweetheart, letting his empty float away in a stream.

Continental put a considerable amount of market research into the campaign. They sent their men out to beer distributors and beer drinkers across the country to get their views on the package and how to market it. When asked, 2,032 distributors said they preferred the Cap-Sealed can to the flat top can. Only 102 chose the flat top, and 232 had no opinion. With flat tops, distributors had to handle the special openers, thus making the cone top more desirable. In addition, in nearly every survey taken, two out of three beer drinkers said they preferred the cone top.

The distributors and brewers were enthusiastic about the summer ad campaign and the local sales promotion that was given to them in their own territories, and they told Continental that the combination helped build package sales and volume.

The campaign paid off handsomely. In the first eight months of 1940, the distributors were reporting sales overwhelmingly ahead of those in all of 1939. The year 1941 also saw banner sales (until the U. S. entrance in the war put canned beer on hold). After the war, the Cap-Sealed can was eventually phased out, ending up being regulated mostly to automotive additives, and even those eventually went to plastic bottles. You can't buy anything in cone tops anymore, unfortunately.

But imagine for just one moment that it's the summer of 1940 once again. A beautiful day, kind of humid, but there's a nice breeze. The women are setting out food and talking, the men are playing a friendly game of baseball, the children are running abound. You get yourself an ice-cold cone-top can of beer, grab the opener and pry off the cap. Shhhhlock. A little bit of foam rises. You bring the metal surface to your lips and swallow down the wonderful liquid refreshment. Ahhh!.

Meanwhile, a war rages on in the rest of the world.

The Squirt Soft Drink Subjective Color Acid Test

On July 25, 1967, television viewers with black-and-white TV sets were startled to see flashes of color on their monochrome screens for about ten seconds during a 60-second soda-pop commercial. A letter to a columnist in the September 14, 1967 Detroit Free Press asked, "Before I see an eye doctor, let me ask Action Line: Is it possible to pick up color TV on a black and white set? I SWEAR I saw a Squirt soft-drink commercial in color. Not pink elephants Green Squirt!" The image was described in the newspaper column as a red, green and blue sign that had flashed on the screen.

A viewer in Chicago told Popular Photography magazine (July 1968), "I saw pink! It knocked me for a loop...the letters S-Q-U-I-R-T looked greenish or light turquoise...and it kept up for maybe 10 seconds." (Meanwhile a viewer in San Francisco claimed he didn't see anything colorful.)

   

It was the national debut of an experimental television commercial using a special production process that would give the optical illusion of color. The commercial first aired a few months earlier locally on KNXT, the CBS-owned television station in Los Angeles, and viewers there were just as stunned. Squirt and its advertising partner Color-Tel Corporation of Los Angeles, at the time decided to make no prior announcement of this experimental commercial, preferring to see just how viewers would respond. And respond they did. Within hours, thousands of viewers were asking if they really saw what they thought they did, color on their black-and-white TV screens, according to Popular Electronics magazine (October 1968).

The burst of color was not "living color" (as NBC frequently touted in the 1960s), but something called "subjective color." The process was developed by James F. Butterfield of Color-Tel, a corporation founded in Los Angeles in early 1966. It gave the illusion of color by pulsating white light in a particular sequence for each color with a rotating device attached to a regular black and white TV camera lens. Butterfield had found in his many years of research that the human brain perceives colors through complex electronic codes. Butterfield was able to figure out the individual codes for the colors red, green and blue, and by pulsating white light in predetermined patterns with the device on the camera lens, could induce the brain of the television viewer to perceive color. Beyond that, ordinary monochrome equipment could be used in filming or taping, broadcasting and viewing.

There were a few drawbacks. The images were nothing at all like true color TV. It didn't have the intensity or range of colors. As the technology currently stood, the effect could only be used on still images. The "subjective color" could only be seen in about one-fourth of the TV screen area, and, because it relied on flickering light, there was a lot of flickering. It was also found that some people could not perceive the colors at all, yet some people diagnosed as color-blind could see the colors.

Nonetheless, Popular Science, in its August 1968 issue, saw many possibilities for the technology, particularly for special effects. "Color will appear in cartoons, commercials and special presentations. Polka-dots on a clown's suit will be seen as red flashing dots. You'll see the designs and lettering on a cereal box in pulsating green and blue. A girl will plant a kiss on a boy's cheek--and a red lipstick print will appear on your screen."

Popular Electronics (October 1968) went on to report, "Right now, Color-Tel engineers are checking into the possibility of using electronic color for such things as color radar displays, color computer readouts, and perhaps even color sonar pictures. It may be true that, in its present stage of development, Butterfield's process is nothing but a scientific curiosity — however, 25 years ago, so was television."

Popular Science predicted, "You can expect color on your black-and-white TV by this fall [1968]." But there was one giant flaw in that rosy prediction. By 1968, black-and-white TV was well on the way out. The vast majority of programming (outside of old movies and TV shows) were being broadcast in "living" color by then, and while most U.S. households still had black-and-white TV sets (color sets were big, bulky and expensive in those days), more and more homes were purchasing color television sets every year. Had James F. Butterfield perfected the process ten or fifteen years earlier, in the 1950s when 90 percent of television broadcasts were black and white, it might have had more of a serious impact.

Although James F. Butterfield had many patents to his credit before his death in 2013, it appears this experiment didn't go as far as the press of the time might have suggested it could. Color-Tel last renewed as a corporation in 1972, and we can not find any evidence of other "subjective color" broadcasts beyond the Squirt commercial.

7-Up Folklore

While it's no longer the case, in the Twentieth Century, 7-Up was a major soft drink brand, for a time the largest-selling non-cola (or Uncola) soft drink. With its crisp carbonated lemon-lime flavor it was a refreshing drink and popular mixer with hard liquor, and its advertising almost rivaled Coca-Cola's in its volume, with ads appearing in major magazines, TV and radio, and on signage outside of diners and ma-and-pa corner stores across the United States and foreign lands. There was also a lot of folklore that surrounded the soda-pop that came in the emerald-green bottles. For instance, there's a story of how 7-Up was able to put out a cooking fire and baste hams at the same time.

The alleged account appeared in the October 2, 1946 issue of the 7-Up Refresher, a newsletter for a group of Midwestern 7 Up bottlers, supposedly recounting a conversation between women in a beauty parlor after a fire truck went by. According to the short piece, one of the women told this story:

"During the holidays we were cooking several hams on top of the stove. Somehow or other the flame from the gas jet ignited the grease on the ham, and in an instant all the hams were ablaze. Flames were shooting up in an alarming way and we all were running around hysterically. Someone phoned the fire department but it looked as though the whole kitchen would be [on] fire before the firemen came.

"There happened to be a case of 7-UP on the floor. My nephew grabbed a bottle, pulled the cap, shook it with his thumb over the top and then squirted the stream of 7-UP at the burning hams. It blanketed the blaze and soon everyone had a bottle of 7-UP squirting at the hams. When the fire department arrived, the fire was all out and the hams were cooking away unharmed.

"You know, far from doing any damage, the 7-UP improved the flavor of the ham--it's the finest basting we ever had for them. Plain water would have ruined them all and probably wouldn't have put out the fire either. I always have said that one bottle of 7-UP is worth a gallon of water!"

On the same page was this unrelated anecdote:

"Little Johnnie was taking his third grade spelling the other day and was asked to spell the word straight. He spelled out s-t-r-a-i-g-h-t. The teacher pronounced the word as being correct and then asked the meaning of the word.

"Johnnie answered: 'Without 7-UP.'"

10 Mid-Century Creepy Clown Ads That Will Make You Laugh (or Scream)

Step right up, folks, and see the clowns pitching everything from Coca-Cola to Zippo lighters. These bizarre vintage ads came from circus magazines from 1943, 1950 and 1956, scanned from my personal collection. Click the images to enlarge.

1. Coca-Cola Pleases Everyone!

Straight and to the point. Except, what does the clown have to do with Coke anyway?

(Source: Shrine Circus program, St. Paul Auditorium, March 5-11, 1956)

2. Zippo Lighters

Why zip, zip, zip…when one-zip does it? A cigar-smoking clown gives up trying to light up his stogie with a crapped-out cheap lighter as his fellow clown saves the day lighting him up with a giant Zippo. No smoking allowed in the circus tent these days.

(Source: Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus magazine & program, 1950 edition)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

3. American Airlines

Oh boy. We are treated to the sight of a clown wedding. Isn’t it sweet and romantic? “Don’t miss it! Watch the clowns get their honeymoon off to a flying start to Mexico.” That bride… is that Ronald McDonald’s mother? Yikes! She’s got hairy arms!

(Source: Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus magazine & program, 1950 edition)

4. Johnson’s Foot Soap

This clown has the Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval, so you know he’s safe, even if he looks criminally insane. Once again, the presence of the clown doesn’t seem to have anything to do with the ad, selling a foot soap made from “the old time favorite formula of borax, iodide and bran.”

(Source: Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus magazine, 1943 edition)

5. Dr. Scholl’s Zino-pads

Another sore feet ad featuring a clown, from the same 1943 circus program. “You, too, will laugh at corns, callouses and bunions when you use Dr. Scholl’s Zino-pads,” the helpful clown tells us. “As easy to apply as a postage stamp.” Hope that doesn’t mean you have to lick them.

(Source: Ringling Bros and Barnum & Bailey Circus magazine, 1943 edition)

6. My-T-Fine desserts

“Hey kids! Ask your mom to make you a delicious Chocolate Pudding or Pie,” says the nice clown. “She’ll be glad to give you this special treat…”  If mom thinks the clown’s endorsement is a bit dubious, a post-war housewife reassures her. “My family certainly prefers My-T-Fine chocolate desserts. Yours will too!”

(Source: Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus magazine & program, 1950 edition)

7. Nabisco Barnum’s Animal Crackers

“BOY OH BOY! What fun!” The creepy clown shouts “WEEEEEE-ooo-ooo!” as he looks like he is about to crack you over the head with that over-sized animal cracker box. “Baked by Nabisco–National Biscuit Company” the ad says, if you wondered about the origin of that name.

(Source: Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus magazine & program, 1950 edition)

8. Necco Sugar Wafers

The Necco (that’s pronounced “neck-o,” by the way) clown stretches his neck high so the giraffe can eat his hat, made of Necco wafers. The stars over his eyes make him look like he’s been punched out.

(Source: Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus magazine & program, 1950 edition)

 

 

 

 

 

 

9. Sanka Decaffeinated Coffee

“Being a clown is hard work!” this ad informs us. “Clowns have to be on their toes all the time…they can’t afford to get the jitters and lose sleep…” Therefore, they need to drink decaffeinated coffee, according to this ad, and so should you! This ad appeared in 1943, at the height of the Second World War, so we are told in a line at the bottom to “Buy U.S. War Savings Bonds and Stamps.”

(Source: Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus magazine, 1943 edition)

10. Winchester rifles

“Watch for the Winchester clown.” Or else! Do clowns have the right to bear arms? This one looks psychopathic even if he wasn’t blasting a shotgun. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

(Source: Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus magazine & program, 1950 edition)

BEER PARTY/USA

"BEER PARTY/USA is a unique entertainment idea that is traditional, patriotic Americana, yet new and fresh. In concept, it captures the spirit of America--the big parade down Main Street, U.S.A., the carnival highlights of national holidays, the band concert on the village green. In essence, it connotes good fellowship, fun, gaiety, and the supurb quality of American beers." So reads a 36-page booklet published around 1966 by the United States Brewers Association called "BEER PARTY/USA."

Click photo for greater detail.

The booklet continues. "Everything about your BEER PARTY/USA should be American. Appropriate music can set the stage, from the lilting melodies of Victor Herbert and the homespun tunes of the "Gay Nineties" to the orchestrations of Cole Porter and selections from the latest Broadway hits. The basic decor should be red, white and blue--the nation's colors, but you may add a shade or two of your own to fit the occasion."

"BEER PARTY/USA" is an interesting bit of ephemera from what a lot of people these days would call the "Mad Men" era, reflecting the optimistic side of the Kennedy-Johnson years of the early 1960s, a time of leisure, suburbia, unbridled patriotism in the face of a percieved communist menace, lounge music, dreams of flying to the moon, and of course, plastics. It might have also been the era of martinis and tiki drinks, but this booklet was from the Brewers Association, so it was all about defining and promoting beer as the true all-American party beverage for all occasions.

Although the vast majority of American beers at the time were virtually alike--the variety of brands, labels, packaging and advertising were far more interesting than the mild flavored, basic yellow brew they all represented--the booklet stresses the importance in putting much thought in choosing and serving the right beer for your party.
 

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"One of the first decisions--how to serve your beer. Will it be in bottles--and if so, the easy non-returnable or returnable? Will it be in cans--easy-open or regular? Or is this THE party for a keg of draught beer? Much depends on the particular occasion and how many people will attend...

"For those assisting at the party, whether family or friends or paid help, be sure to let them know in advance your plans and needs. Who will bring the ice to cool the beer?"

It even suggests having someone play the role of Mr. Beer Opener. "To get the party started and to keep it moving, the host or a friend might be MR. BEER OPENER for the evening--perhaps with appropriate dress and big tag identification. Not only does he open and serve the cans or bottles, or tap the keg of beer; he helps open the party, open the conversation, provide the informality, the spark, the conviviality which sets the pace for a happy occasion."




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The booklet goes on with ideas for entertainment and party decor. "Gather all your old (or new) magazines and newspapers. Cut out pictures and advertisements, paste them on shirt cardboards, and with a felt marker print underneath and alongside funny quotations or sayings pertaining to the BEER PARTY/USA occasion. Hang or tape the pictures around the house or apartment; put lots in the area where the beer is being served...


"Everyone agrees that music sets any BEER PARTY/USA in full swing. It can be any type of presentation. The phonograph generally proves most practical. Before guests arrive, select a variety of records. You can then relax and enjoy the evening. If you are lucky enough to have 'home' musicians on the guest list, ask them to 'bring-a-long' their insturments and you've got ready-made festivity for the affair! Have song sheets available. Choose some old and some new 'favorite' tunes. Type the words on paper for each guest. It's great to have a piano, but if you don't, there's usually one good voice to start the singing. Then just watch and listen--they'll never stop!"

 

For party decorations, the booklet suggests using old beer bottles for flowers and as candle holders, and for the dinnertable centerpiece, "Include beer bottles, beer drawings or some allusion to beer in the display." It also suggests spray painting artichokes and lemons in a red, white and blue color scheme, and suggestions for a "patio candlerama."

 

"Beer bottles are more attractive than ever before. You can achieve many unique designs by decorating beer bottles with paint, ribbons, jewels and other decorative ornaments. They can be used for flower vases, candle holders or favors for your guests...Small artificial flowers around the base of the bottle can be most attractive."

 

There's a section on tips for serving beer, tips on properly displaying the flag and bunting, seasonal "BEER PARTIES/USA," birthday and anniversary "BEER PARTIES/USA," and beer recipies including "Brewmaster's Steak," "Beer-Glazed Ham," "Beer-Becued Spareribs," "Beer Cheese Wafers," and even "Birthday Beer Cake."

 

There's also a section on Social Hints. "Nowadays there are less rigid party rules than in the past," the booklet acknowleges. "The hour for your party and the placing of your table and your silverware may be to your choosing--provided it is done tastefully and thoughtfully."

 

But even in the 1960s, there were still some rigid (and some might say sexist) rules regarding introductions. "It's difficult for many of us to remember proper form on introductions. Here's a good tip: with two important exceptions, gentlemen are always introduced TO ladies. The proper form goes like this: 'Mr. Jones, this is Mrs. Smith.' Or, 'Mrs. Smith, may I present Mr. Jones.' The two exceptions are clergymen and important public officials. In these instances, reverse it, as follows: 'Mrs. Smith, this is Reverend Jones.' Or, 'Mayor Jones, may I present Mrs. Smith.'"

 

Throughout the booklet, the word "gay" is used a lot--presumably the archaic old meaning of the word. "Use color, a gay tablecloth, bright napkins," it suggests in setting up a buffet table. Another suggestion: "if you're not good at names, or it's a large party, use name tags--the simple stick-on kind, which come in gay colors." It all adds up to a very gay BEER PARTY/USA.



 



Who Was the Man on the Gablinger's Can? Or: The Real 'Father' of Light Beer

Perplexing as it is to those of us who actually enjoy beer, the most popular brews in the United States, hands-down, are so-called light beers made by massive, big corporations. Consumed primarily by young doofuses who have a complete inability to think beyond the scope of commercials they see on ESPN. Decades ago, "light" beer was simply a distinction from "dark" or "heavy" beer. The first "light" beer as currently defined was not Miller Lite (nor did Miller even originate Lite), but it was a product introduced in 1967 called Gablinger's Beer, distributed by a subsidiary of Rheingold Breweries, Inc. of New York called Forrest Brewing Company. (And in spite of errorneous information in several Web articles, Gablinger's was never specifically marketed as "diet beer.")


1967 ad for Gablinger's beer.



The slogan, appearing on cartons and point-of-purchase displays in strong typeography was "GABLINGER'S BEER DOESN'T FILL YOU UP." Ad copy boasted that it had no carbohydrates, no fat, and 0.25% protein, making it sound downright healthy. The beer was pale in color, and undoubtedly pale in taste, but advertising claimed it tasted just as good as any other beer.

Labels on cans and bottles featured a drawing of a rather plain-looking middle-aged man in a suit, who looked like he could have been your high school shop or business teacher.

The man was a real person named Hersch Gablinger, a Swiss researcher who developed the technique for eliminating carbohydrates from beer, according to a piece in the May 1967 issue of the trade magazine Modern Packaging. He gave his permission to allow his image to be used on the packages. The process he had developed, according to Modern Packaging, "is claimed to enable consumers to quaff the brew without getting a 'filled-up' feeling."

Gablinger's was sold mostly in Rheingold's marketing area in the eastern US. Meanwhile, Chicago-based Meister Brau came up with its own low carb, low cal beer called Meister Brau Lite, introduced in 1968. While Gablinger's had a distinctly masculine-looking package, Meister Brau tried to appeal to women with its Lite packaging, and even attempted to launch a whole line of dietetic food products with the Lite name, similar to the Weight Watchers product line.

Neither Gablinger's nor Meister Brau Lite really caught on, however. Meister Brau in particular saw hard times and in 1972 sold its brands including Lite to Miller Brewing Company of Milwaukee, Wisconsin. To make a long story short, Miller redesigned the packaging and relaunched Lite under its own name, came up with an ingenious marketing strategy using macho ex-jocks and others in humorous commercials, and soon the brand took off, forcing competing brewers to come up with their own light (but not Lite) beers. Soon, light beers would overtake sales of so-called regular beers.

Meanwhile, Gablinger's beer continued to struggle in spite of the new popularity of light beers. In 1976 the packaging was changed, in attempt to broaden appeal and make the packages stand out more on retailer's shelves. The dark brown background color was replaced with bright orange. The portrait of Hersch Gablinger was dropped, replaced by a depiction of a man and woman raising mugs of surprisingly dark-looking beers (the complete opposite of Gablinger's) while seated at a table in what looks like a fast food restaurant. Though most likely unintended, the image looked strikingly similar to one used by Farrell's Ice Cream Parlour Restaurants. In fact, the cans looked more like diet soda pop cans than beer cans.

By the 1980s, Gablingr's beer was no more, the trademark registration canceled in 1984, and Hersch Gablinger, whose discovery would launch an astronomically successful product category for the brewing industry, would be completely forgotten about.

The Grain Belt Guys--Where are they now?

     In the spring of 1975, Grain Belt Breweries, Inc., the Minneapolis-based regional brewer that had dominated beer sales in its upper-Midwest marketing area for decades, was facing some new and difficult challenges.

   Nationally advertised beers such as Budweiser, Schlitz, Pabst and Miller were getting more aggressive in their marketing, especially in parts of the country where there was a dominant regional brand with a loyal customer base. The big bad boys of the industry challenged those local loyalties with saturation advertising and deep discounts on their package and tap beers. 

   As Grain Belt struggled to remain relevant, let alone maintain and expand market share, a young businessman with a wheeler-dealer reputation named Irwin Jacobs was buying large quantities of Grain Belt stock and was making a pitch to other stockholders and the Board of Directors to sell the entire company to him.

   As the Board entertained thoughts of selling out to Jacobs in March 1975, the decision was made, as a means of brightening Grain Belt’s future, to embark on a whole new advertising and promotional campaign to be launched in time for the summer beer drinking season.

   The company hired New York-based advertising agency Batton, Barto, Durstine & Osborne, Inc. (BBD&O) and the campaign they came up with was called “Thirst Things First” featuring a trio of fun-loving beer drinking buddies known as the Grain Belt Guys.

   On May 1, 1975, Grain Belt shareholders voted to sell to Jacobs, a move that would prove to be a fatal mistake. As the 36-year-old businessman with no experience in the brewing industry took over as owner, chairman and CEO, the new Grain Belt Guys campaign was launched with seven television and seven radio commercials of varying lengths scheduled to run from May until December of 1975, billboards, posters and point-of-purchase displays featuring the Guys. It would be the company’s last ad campaign.

   Portraying the Grain Belt Guys were three California-based actors: Renny Roker (the black guy), Archie Hahn (the white guy) and Mark Giardino (the mustached guy). The three men had appeared separately in other TV commercials and had bit parts in a few TV shows and movies. Roker also had a recurring role in the CBS comedy series Gomer Pyle, USMC a few years earlier and before that worked for singer Nat King Cole, and Hahn made a few appearances as one of Oscar’s poker playing buddies on ABC’s The Odd Couple. The guys were flown in, and the commercials were shot in Minnesota.

   The roving Grain Belt Guys, wearing big red Grain Belt diamond logos on their T-shirts, would rescue other guys from uncomfortable situations in a series of humorous commercials by calling out “Pssst—Hey you! Let’s have a Grain Belt!”  In one of the commercials, for example, the Grain Belt Guys crash a wedding and call a nervous bridegroom away for a beer just as he’s about to tie the knot. In another, the Guys lure a bored young man, who is accompanying his snobbish rich boss and boss’s wife, away from his seat at the opera for a Grain Belt in the middle of an aria.

   Other commercials were filmed at various spots around the Twin Cities area, including the IDS Building (then the only modern skyscraper in Minneapolis), Naegele Outdoor Advertising Company (Grain Belt was one of that company’s biggest clients), a barber shop and at the beach. The Guys were happy non-conformist partiers who confounded the conformist snobs in the commercials, and as it would turn out, in real life as well.

   While the commercials undoubtedly played on youth appeal, at a time when states including Minnesota were lowering their drinking ages to 18, the actors portraying the Grain Belt Guys were all hovering around age 30, so they themselves weren’t all that young, but not all that old either. A perfect fit to attract the targeted 18-34 year old male beer drinker.

   In addition to commercials, the Guys were brought in for personal appearances around Minnesota in the summer of 1975, including the Minneapolis Aquatennial, where they rode the Grain Belt float and waved to enthusiastic spectators in the Torchlight Parade.

   According to an article in the October 1975 Grain Belt Diamond, a company newsletter, “Everywhere the Grain Belt Guys went they were recognized by thousands of fans…The three Grain Belt Guys enjoy their role and popularity in the Upper Midwest. Every place they would go they would hear “Psssst, hey you” from thousands of fans. They’re neat guys and are helping to sell Grain Belt Beer.”

   The Grain Belt Guys were even parodied in a Richard Guindon cartoon panel published in the July 2, 1975 Minneapolis Tribune. In it, the Guys are drunk, sick and in the gutter, while a young boy asks his mother as they pass by, “What’s the matter with the Grain Belt guys, Mom?”

   But not everyone was a fan of the Grain Belt Guys. The United Presbyterian Church filed an official complaint with the Federal Communications Commission as well as Grain Belt owner Irwin Jacobs over the wedding commercial, finding the church setting in which the Guys do their “Pssst—Hey you! Let’s have a Grain Belt” routine sacrilegious. The Presbyterian organization also complained that a Grain Belt radio spot featured religious music, but Grain Belt officials insisted it was “soul music.”

   The opera commercial also drew protest, this time from a culture lady from the Twin Cities Metropolitan Arts Alliance who complained that particular spot seemed to “reinforce the notion that only rich, society people can go and enjoy the arts” and that “there could have been a lot of other ways to make the commercial without putting down not only the opera but the people who attend it,” she was quoted in the Minneapolis Star. Others complained the commercials promoted youth drinking.

   Then, as 1975 came to a close, owner Irwin Jacobs, who hoodwinked a majority of Grain Belt shareholders into selling the company to him just eight months earlier, announced he would be closing down the brewery and selling off its assets. The Grain Belt brands would be sold to the competing G. Heileman Brewing Company of La Crosse, Wisconsin, and the Grain Belt Guys died with the Grain Belt brewery.

   The guys portraying the Grain Belt Guys went their own separate ways continuing their acting careers. Renny Roker went on to have the most impressive accomplishments of any of the former Grain Belt Guys. He served as the International Sports Youth Representative for the Coca-Cola Company from 1978 to 1984, he produced BMX Racing on ESPN and America’s Paradise Triathlon for NBC Sports, he founded Teens On the Green, described as a multi-ethnic program that motivates inner city youth to excel in their academics through an appreciation of golf, and he appeared as a semi-regular on NBC’s Hill Street Blues in the 1980s. His last acting credit, according to the Internet Movie Data Base (imdb.com) was a 1999 TV movie, “Kidnapped In Paradise.”

   In August 1975, at the height of the Grain Belt Guys campaign, Archie Hahn was a regular on a four-week summer variety show on CBS fronted by recording group Manhattan Transfer, doing comedy relief as a character called Doughie Duck (he had been renowned for his ability to talk like Donald Duck).  In his later career, he continued to act in numerous TV shows and commercials. He appeared in the theatrical movie “Meatballs Part II” (1984) and got into a relationship with co-star Misty Rowe, a former “Hee Haw Honey.” He was the first American to appear in the original British version of Who’s Line Is It Anyway, and most recently played the agent in “Alvin & the Chipmunks: The Squeakquel” (2009).

   Information on the post-Grain Belt Guys career of Mark Giardino is a little harder to come by. According to imdb.com, his most recent acting credits were an episode of NBC’s Knight Rider in 1985 and the movie “Invaders From Mars” (1986).

   Postscript: the old Grain Belt brewery building in Minneapolis remained standing and boarded up for more than two decades after Irwin Jacobs shut it down. The building was long rumored to be “haunted” and indeed, the spirit of the Grain Belt Guys was discovered in the early 2000s when renovations began to convert the giant building into offices for RSP Architects. A full-size outdoor type billboard featuring the Guys and the slogan “This is our kind of place” remained installed on a wall of the old engine room. Instead of preserving it, however, it was removed and trashed by the construction firm responsible for the building renovations, to the relief no doubt of Presbyterians and opera lovers everywhere.