Up My Own Ass

You know what I miss about the Christmas of my youth?  The commercials.  I spent my childhood during the years before cable, and networks were deluged with commercials that evoked more holiday spirit than an entire rack of Hallmark cards.  It never felt like Christmas until I heard the first peal of those cheap, jangly Ronco bells merrily approximating “Deck the Halls” as the announcer confidently insisted that you purchase everything from the Veg-o-matic, to the Record Vacuum, to the Rhinestone Stud Setter (which I actually still have, although it technically belongs to my sister!)

Let’s not forget to mention the Glass Froster, the Smokeless Ashtray, the Inside-the-Eggshell Egg Scrambler, the Buttoneer, and the ubiquitous Mr. Microphone:

It wasn’t just Ronco that made interstitial holiday television as exciting as the Christmas programs.  McDonald’s had a market share of cuteness with the toddler-sized Corey Feldman sneaking down the stairs to give Santa his gift certificate, and Coca-Cola actually had a go at world peace with a choir of hippies singing and drinking Coke by candlelight:

And, for the absolute pinnacle of Christmas commercialism…the Norelco Santa:

I certainly hope you have enjoyed this trip down memory lane.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some sledding to do before I go play with my Holly Hobby Easybake Oven.