Monday, March 1, 2021

13,460. RUDIMENTS, pt. 1,149

RUDIMENTS, pt. 1,149
(coupon-books to the top!)
New pens and things of 
that sort always excited me.
That probably sounds weird
enough, but it's true. When, 
about 1960, those first, clear
Bic pens came out, I was
elated  -  the thing, in my 
hand, I treated as a wonder.
No-click, a pen that just was
a pen; clear plastic, acrylic,
whatever that was. The ink 
ran down as they were used.
It was so cool to be able to
see that. On the side, about
midway, there was a tiny,
little airhole and the embossed
letters 'Bic'  -  which was also
very cool. I used to save them
as I used them up; at one time
having rubber banded about
25 or 30. It used to be that
the little tip thing at the top
would come off, but now the
later ones no longer do that.
I always thought I'd use them,
the empties, for something  -  I
wanted to maybe build a sort
of clear, model, house of them.
In any case, I stopped using
that particular type of pen
long ago. I'm pretty particular
these days about which pen I
use, and have found a favorite
and just keep buying them over
and over, or even just re-fills, 
if I can find them. There was a
time when things of this nature,
like sunglasses, were special and
costly; but nowadays any of
that ephemeral stuff can be had
cheaply  -  pens, sunglasses, and
watches too. Why bother.
-
1960 was a long time ago, but 
I sensed even then that things 
could be changing. Besides the 
Bic pen name, (a product 
originated in France, as 'Bich' 
company, though it was altered
later, for the American market,
to Bic; the idea of having 'Bich'
as an American product name
didn't fly). Then they also came
out with lighters  -  colored, plastic
Bic disposable lighters, once more
blasting the American market 
sky-high and rendering yet 
another once 'expensive' utility
item into a 19 cent throwaway.
Things were getting weird. Dannon
captured a 'yogurt' market that
had never existed before (in the
original wax-coated little containers
now long-ago made into still
more plastic disposals). My 
friend's father worked for Droste 
Chocolates, in NYC; Dutch, I 
believe, and always exotic  -  it 
never really traded itself down, 
though  -  but, bought and sold, 
bought and sold  -  the company 
is now just more dreck from a
multi-glomerate called 'Standard 
Brands,' worldwide. The fact that
it was Dutch was interesting. My
uncle from Germany had the same
sort of exotic resolve, a far-frame
from another place, and all that
always captured me. The guy with
the Dutch chocolate connection,
as well, had the first TV Guide
subscription I'd ever seen  -  that
too was amazing, they'd get it
delivered right to the house, by
mail, weekly! I don't think we ever
had a TV Guide in my house my
whole time there.
-
I guess, when you're a kid, you
notice things like that. Funny now,
too I don't have a taste for chocolate
at all; it fact, I avoid it. And all that
time I'm speaking of here, I don't
remember any chocolate 'samples'
floating around their house; no treats
or giveaways. I do remember the
endless array of Raleigh cigarettes.
The husband and the wife there 
both smoked them, I think, and 
they collected the 'Raleigh Coupons' 
that came one to a pack  -  redeemable 
eventually for any of that standard 
array of treasured 1950's things  -  
toasters, clocks, etc.  -  if turned in
when the right number of coupons
had been amassed. Again, a fairly
normal 1950's gimmick  -  smoke 
your way viciously to the early 
grave, but turn in your coupons
along the way!
-
There were Green Stamps. There
were Plaid Stamps. There were
cigarette stamps. That WWII
generation was a weird bunch, 
staid yet bizarre in their own 
ways. Isolated and perverse too.
As children, in the Depression
years, I guess they'd all grown 
used to ration cards and the window 
stamps and stickers allowing gas
and grocery purchases, so that
the idea of redeeming these curious
postwar stamps for things meant
really little, being innured to all
that as they were. I shudder to think
now of what sorts of things today's
kids and people are already used to;
a shrug and a so-what towards all
sorts of strange things carries it all
forward except mostly now it's again 
a lot of that what you can't say and
who you've been with stuff. The 
same kids today, with their hand-helds
and message boards, barrels of porn
and endless stupid games have already
walked themselves fairly well into the
shroud-fog of AI, and already think 
nothing of it. On paper, it can be
argued that any of this is merely the
end-result of the American push for
Freedom and Liberty, and that curious
phrase 'Pursuit of Happiness,' which
is no more, in modern terms, than an
allowance for ignorance. You can be
as crazy and dumb-assed, unlearned
and foolish, as you want to be in this
country, and no one will stop you  -  in
fact, by crowd impetus they'll applaud
you for going along! Redeem those
'Stupid-Coupons' now! I'm not much
for politics, but I have to admit that I
was never more proud than when I
watched an able, but twice-impeached,
ex-President talk his way, strongly 
and with strange bravado, back into 
the tin-foil mix unfolding, by calling 
things, finally, for what they are, and 
calling them out  -  the precocious, 
the stupid, the disgusting, the dead. 
It somehow felt good to see someone, 
finally, at work trying to throw out 
those damned coupon books. There's
enough gasoline around; someone
ought to throw the match.




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