Beauty advice from The Pittsburgh Press (Feb 20, 1938):
The greatest menace to beautiful feminine figures is auto legs. Such is the contention of LeRoy Prinz, Paramount dance director, who makes a living out of his ability to tell a good leg when he sees one. The leg impressario insists that American girls spend so much time riding and so little time walking that the legs don't get enough exercise to develop in shapely fashion, but become knobby, knock-kneed and skinny.
The Gramocar has gone under a variety of different names: Chorocco, Record Runner, Soundwagon, and Vinyl Killer. But I like Gramocar the best.
It was invented in the 1970s by a team at Sony who had the idea that instead of playing a vinyl record by spinning the disc and keeping the needle stationary, it would be possible to keep the disc stationary and move the needle. They designed the moving needle as a miniature VW van, with built-in speakers, that drove in circles around the surface of a record.
Sony got a patent on the invention (US4232202) but was initially reluctant to manufacture it, saying, "We are a hi-fi company, not a toy company." But they changed their mind, and some were sold in Japan. In that way, the Gramocar gained enough of a following that other manufacturers eventually began making them. And you can still buy one today at RecordRunner.jp.
If Aristophanes's Lysistrata was rewritten to be set in Memphis during the 1930s, it could be about all the young women banding together to refuse to date any boys who drove faster than the speed limit.
Pretty Mary Agnes Peeples, 19, is taking an active part in the campaign to make Memphis, Tenn., the safest city in 1939. Mary is wearing a "30" button which means she promises to observe the 30-mile speed limit and will refuse to date boys who violate the speed laws.
Back in the 80s and 90s, Jay Schiffman had big hopes for his AutoVision system, which allowed a person to watch TV while driving a car. His device projected the image onto a small mirror positioned on the windshield, so that the driver could look at the road and a TV show simultaneously.
Schiffman says he was surprised to discover that television improved the drivers' concentration. He believed the moving and talking images enticed the drivers to keep their eyes on the road as they peeked at the projections in front of them.
In addition, the images kept the drivers alert, he said, stimulating their sympathetic nervous system, or fight-or-flight response.
I don't think many people were convinced by his argument. But maybe self-driving cars will create a new market for his invention.
Never worry again about your car being stolen. Bosco's inflatable rubber driver will make it appear as if your car is occupied, thereby deterring thieves.
I haven't been able to find an original source for this ad, but it appears in a number of books about automobile oddities (such as Motor touring in old California). However, the dates given for it vary from 1905 to the 1920s.
Lemuel Bosco of Akron, Ohio, spent $5 for an antitheft device that was supposed to lock the Splitdorf ignition switch of his car, but it didn't stop a thief. He broke it off and took Bosco's Mercer for a joyride. The cops found the car undamaged, but Bosco was mad and vowed it wouldn't happen again. Thus was born the Bosco Collapsible Driver. When inflated and propped behind a steering wheel, it looked like Charlie Chaplin, right down to moustache and derby. When the mannequin wasn't needed, it was deflated and stored under the seat. Standing a foot away from a car, no theif could tell that the rubber dummy wasn't a real man — or so ads in auto accessory manuals of 1910 would have you believe.
The Bosco Collapsible Driver Co. collapsed in two years, because it didn't take even the dumbest thief long to realize that the guy who was sitting behind the wheel never even twitched, which meant he was either dead, in a coma or not for real.
Posted By: Alex - Thu Aug 19, 2021 -
Comments (4)
Category: Crime, Cars
1965: Bernice Wyszynski saw a brand-new Pontiac sedan advertised for "1,395 bananas". So she tried to take the dealer up on that offer. However, the dealer insisted that the car actually cost $1,395. 'Bananas', he said, was a vernacular term for dollars. Wyszynski threatened to sue him for false advertising, and eventually he relented, selling her the car in exchange for 1,395 bananas.
I can buy five bananas at the supermarket for $1. Which means that, in present-day money, Wyszynski got the car for around $280. That's a pretty good deal.
Paul Di Filippo
Paul has been paid to put weird ideas into fictional form for over thirty years, in his career as a noted science fiction writer. He has recently begun blogging on many curious topics with three fellow writers at The Inferior 4+1.