Christmas has passed but not the inspiration that Christmas can have in our lives. Here is a beautiful story that just past my way. It reveals how inspiration can come from those things that have caused frustration and even pain. I hope you enjoy this inspiring Christmas story.

God Bless Montgomery Ward!

**True Story of Rudolph**

A man named Bob May, depressed and brokenhearted, stared out his drafty apartment window into the chilling December night.

His 4-year-old daughter Barbara sat on his lap quietly sobbing. Bobs wife, Evelyn, was dying of cancer. Little Barbara couldn’t understand why her mommy could never come home. Barbara looked up into her dad’s eyes and asked, “Why isn’t Mommy just like everybody else’s Mommy?” Bob’s jaw tightened and his eyes welled with tears. Her question brought waves of grief, but also of anger. It had been the story of Bob’s life. Life always had to be different for Bob.

Small when he was a kid, Bob was often bullied by other boys. He was too little at the time to compete in sports. He was often called names he’d rather not remember. From childhood, Bob was different and never seemed to fit in. Bob did complete college, married his loving wife and was grateful to get his job as a copywriter at Montgomery Ward during the Great Depression. Then he was blessed with his little girl. But it was all short-lived. Evelyn’s bout with cancer stripped them of all their savings and now Bob and his daughter were forced to live in a two-room apartment in the Chicago slums. Evelyn died just days before Christmas in 1938.

Bob struggled to give hope to his child, for whom he couldn’t even afford to buy a Christmas gift. But if he couldn’t buy a gift, he was determined a make one – a storybook! Bob had created an animal character in his own mind and told the animal’s story to little Barbara to give her comfort and hope. Again and again Bob told the story, embellishing it more with each telling. Who was the character? What was the story all about? The story Bob May created was his own autobiography in fable form. The character he created was a misfit outcast like he was. The name of the character? A little reindeer named Rudolph, with a big shiny nose. Bob finished the book just in time to give it to his little girl on Christmas Day. But the story doesn’t end there.

The general manager of Montgomery Ward caught wind of the little storybook and offered Bob May a nominal fee to purchase the rights to print the book. Wards went on to print, “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” and distribute it to children visiting Santa Claus in their stores. By 1946, Wards had printed and distributed more than six million copies of Rudolph. That same year, a major publisher wanted to purchase the rights from Wards to print an updated version of the book.

In an unprecedented gesture of kindness, the CEO of Wards returned all rights back to Bob May. The book became a best seller. Many toy and marketing deals followed and Bob May, now remarried with a growing family, became wealthy from the story he created to comfort his grieving daughter. But the story doesn’t end there either.

Bob’s brother-in-law, Johnny Marks, made a song adaptation of Rudolph. Though the song was turned down by such popular vocalists as Bing Crosby and Dinah Shore, it was recorded by the singing cowboy, Gene Autry. “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” was released in 1949 and became a phenomenal success, selling more records than any other Christmas song, with the exception of “White Christmas.”

The gift of love that Bob May created for his daughter so long ago kept on returning back to bless him again and again. And Bob May learned the lesson, just like his dear friend Rudolph, that being different isn’t so bad. In fact, being different can be a blessing.

*MERRY CHRISTMAS 2009*

Merry Christmas!  This holiday brought snow.  Lots of snow for Dallas.  Several years ago my family gave up the present swapping tradition.  In its place?  Spending time together.  We all win.

Along with Christmas, it’s also Bike Photo Friday!  Last weekend we headed out to the trail.  On our way home we stopped at Babe’s.  Babe’s sells chicken in all forms:  Roasted, fried, legs, chicken fingers, chicken fried steak.  Babe’s is not healthy.  Don’t enter the door looking for healthy options.  They don’t exist and you will be miserable if you aren’t prepared for it.  The food and decor, however, are great.  All you can eat mashed potatoes, creamed corn, salad, homemade melt in your mouth biscuits, Yum!

We went to lunch late.  Partly because I was a slow poke.  Partly because I was taking photos at yet another cemetery.  This time in Sanger.   By the time we got to Babe’s I was famished.  I’d had my eyes open for a bike all day.  Didn’t see a single one.  I didn’t look out long enough because we parked right by one at Babe’s and Dave caught it.   An old Montgomery Ward bike sitting in the front yard of an antique shop in Sanger, TX.

A man named Bob May, depressed and brokenhearted, stared out his drafty apartment window into the chilling December night.
 
 His 4-year-old daughter Barbara sat on his lap quietly sobbing. Bobs wife, Evelyn, was dying of cancer.

Little Barbara couldn’t understand why her mommy could never come home. Barbara looked up into her dad’s eyes and asked, “Why isn’t Mommy just like everybody else’s Mommy?”  Bob’s jaw tightened and his eyes welled with tears.Her question brought waves of grief, but also of anger.  It had been the story of Bob’s life.  Life always had to be different for Bob.
 
Small when he was a kid, Bob was often bullied by other boys.   He was too little at the time to compete in sports.  He was often  called names he’d rather not remember. From childhood, Bob was different and never seemed to fit in.  Bob did complete college, married his loving wife and was grateful to get his job as a copywriter at  Montgomery  Ward during the Great Depression.  Then he was blessed with his little  girl.  But it was all short-lived.  Evelyn’s bout with cancer stripped them of all their savings and now Bob and his daughter were forced  to live in a two-room apartment in the  Chicago  slums.  Evelyn died  just days before Christmas in 1938.
 
Bob struggled to give hope to his child, for whom he couldn’t even afford to buy a Christmas gift. But if he couldn’t buy a gift, he was determined a make one – a storybook!  Bob had created an animal character in his own mind and told the animal’s story to little Barbara to give her comfort and hope. Again and again Bob told the story, embellishing it more with each telling.  Who was the  character?  What was the story all about?  The story Bob May created  was his own autobiography in fable form. The character he created was a misfit outcast like he was. The name of the character?  A little reindeer named Rudolph, with a big shiny nose.  Bob finished the book just in time to give it to his little girl on Christmas Day. But the story doesn’t end there. 
 
The general manager of  Montgomery  Ward caught wind of the  little storybook and offered Bob May a nominal fee to purchase the  rights to print the book.  Wards went on to print, “Rudolph the  Red-Nosed Reindeer” and distribute it to children visiting Santa Claus in their stores.  By 1946 Wards had printed and distributed  more than six million copies of Rudolph.  That same year, a major publisher wanted to purchase the rights from Wards to print an  updated version of the book.In an unprecedented gesture of  kindness, the CEO of Wards returned all rights back to Bob May.  The book became a best seller.  Many toy and marketing deals followed and Bob May, now remarried with a growing family, became wealthy from  the story he created to comfort his grieving daughter.  But the story doesn’t end there either.  
 
Bob’s brother-in-law, Johnny Marks, made a song adaptation to  Rudolph.  Though the song was turned down by such popular vocalists  as Bing Crosby and  Dinah   Shore  ,  it was recorded by the singing  cowboy, Gene Autry.  ”Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” was released  in 1949 and became a phenomenal success, selling more records than  any other Christmas song, with the exception of “White Christmas.” 
 
The gift of love that Bob May created for his daughter so long ago kept on returning back to bless him again and again.  And Bob May learned the lesson, just like his dear friend Rudolph, that being different isn’t so bad.  In fact, being different can be a blessing.

Now you know!

Merry Christmas!

Rudolph's lesser known cousin Shimmel

to Barry Manilow’s version (don’t hold it against me) of “Rudolph” on CD.  It was actually pretty good, so I started listening to it again.  On the second time around, it occurred to me that one of the undercurrents of the song is “alienation” from the elements of Christmas. 

For some reason, I’ve been fascinated with my recent discovery that many famous Christmas songs were written by Jewish songwriters.  “Rudolph”, it turns out, is no exception.  However, before for I delve too deep, I just want to differentiate that there is “Rudolph” the original story written by Robert L. May and “Rudolph” the popular song adapted by his brother-in-law Johnny Marks. 

So the story goes, in 1939 Robert L. May was a copywriter for  the Montgomery-Ward department store chain and created the original story of “Rudolph-the-Red-Nosed Reindeer” as a promotional gimmick.  Yes, that’s right, the most famous reindeer of all started out as a commercial. The popular history is that May drew from the “Ugly Duckling” tale and pitched it to his boss, who after some coaxing green-lighted the project and the story became a runaway success.  In the midst of creating the story, May’s wife had a terminal illness and died around the same time May finished “Rudolph”.  Not only was May deeply in debt from medical bills, Montgomery-Ward owned the rights to “Rudolph” and so he did not see a cent in the beginning from the licensing.  Eventually, May was able to secure the license from Montgomery-Ward and he and his family lived comfortably for the rest of his days. 

However, if you consider that May was drawing from the Jewish-American experience around Christmastime, the story seems to take on a new dimension.  Imagine if you are a Jewish copywriter in the 1930s mid-west trying to come up with ideas for Christmas promotions or being ostracized around the Christmas season by your peers.  Phrases such as “People used to laugh and call him names” or “They never let poor Rudolph, join in any reindeer games” take on a whole new meaning. However, It is unclear from the 15 minutes of in-depth research that I did whether May himself was actually Jewish.  However, his brother-in-law Johnny Marks was definitely Jewish.  So that strongly suggests that at the very least his wife was Jewish. 

However, as sources such as snopes.com point out, the original story “Rudolph” differs significantly from the song written by Marks.  One can safely say then that the song version of “Rudolph” comes from the Jewish-American perspective. Although this is wild speculation, one wonders if Marks was thinking about Mays’ or his own Jewish-American experience when he penned these lyrics about a once-ostracized Rudolph who gained acceptance from his peers at Christmas: “Then all the reindeer loved him/As they shouted out with glee,/Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer,/You’ll go down in history!”

Either way, it’s still a great song and undeniably gets everyone, perhaps even a few Jewish listeners, in the holiday spirit.

Today, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer is an integral tenet of the Christmas dogma, but 70 years ago Rudolph was just another gimmick to sell merchandise.

Prior to 1939, Montgomery Ward Department Stores had been handing out coloring books at Christmas as a way to get shoppers in the door. The company’s marketing director figured it would be cheaper for the store to create its own give-away booklet than to buy all of those coloring books each year.

Copywriter Robert L. May was tapped for the assignment, and he wrote the tale of Rudolph. That year 2.4 million copies of the story were handed out. Paper rationing during World War II hampered distribution, but by 1946 some 6 million copies had been published.

May convinced Montgomery Ward to let him have the copyright on the story, and in 1947 a 9-minute cartoon was shown nationwide. But the story of Rudolph really took off in 1947 when Johnny Marks, May’s brother-in-law, wrote the song about the red-nosed reindeer that was recorded by Gene Autry in 1949. The 1964 claymation TV special narrated by Burl Ives cemented Rudolph’s place in Christmas lore.

Did you know?

• Before settling on the name Rudolph, May considered the names Rollo and Reginald.

Pretty much VINTAGE anything & everything… today, my thoughts are with Vintage Ads and Photos in Vintage magazines… if I remember correctly this magazine was from about 1969…

-love the layout of this Ford Mustag ad… & the red trench coat! ‘not about to be impressed by your fancy helicopter, when i’ve got the perfect Ford Mustang’-

-part of a fashion story about california teen fashion… they photographed students from major california high schools, in action… I just love this look she’s rockin’-

-this was a story on building and decorating a pre-fab house… it’s so tacky, it’s FABULOUS… pre-fab houses surely don’t look like this now-a-days-

-okay… if I hadn’t already cut all my hair off… this is the haircut I would get… AMAZING… Erin, this one’s for you!-

-this is a Montgomery Ward ad… speaking of the simplification of fashion & outfits… all you need to wear is a lacy body-suit & your coat with a string of pearls… wildly obsurd! maybe i should try it…-

-and then we have the surf mobile of a lifetime in candy corn colors!-

-finally, i saved my one true LOVE for last… another high school fashion foto… SERIOUSLY, all i want for christmas is some PUCCI tights… who needs shoes when you have Pucci tights!!!-

I must have missed the memo that one of my old favorite department stores that closed down years ago came back in a new form, as an online store! Check out the store here.

Lemme see now, I guess that actually my first instrument was a Mattel Mickey Mouse Geetar, a sort of tenor guitar or baritone uke, modeled after the one Jimmy Dodd played on the Mickey Mouse Club television show. It was made out of plastic and had four nylon strings with tuning pegs, no gears. I was about five or six years old. My grandfather, a fiddle player back in his day, taught me to tune it via the old ‘my dog has fleas’ tune. I had absolutely no concept of chords at the time, and at the most can recall picking out single string simple melodies, e.g. mary had a little lamb; twinkle, twinkle little star.

Later I took a shine to the clarinet (who can explain these things? The only thing I can remember that may have turned me on to it was hearing the instrument referred to as a “licorice stick”.) I joined the school band and took private lessons from a man whom I feared and hated. The whole experience was so traumatic that I sometimes marvel that I did not turn off to music entirely! Fortunately (!?!?), I fell ill and was hospitalized with what was eventually diagnosed as a lung fungus, and the doctors felt that the clarinet should be put aside for a time. I never returned to it and that was the end of my rather less than prodigious woodwind career.

A few years passed and I became very interested in folk music (circa ’62) and lusted for a guitar. My father did not quite approve of the genre (pinko, beatnik, commie, faggot music, don’t you know!) and it took me over a year of begging and fantasizing over pictures of guitars in mail order catalogs, (back in the day all the companies, from Sears Roebuck to Monkey Wards had pages and pages of inexpensive guitars! A true golden age.), before I could convince him to let me trade in my dust collecting clarinet on a cheap no name classical guitar from a local music store. Probably could have done better just to sell the clarinet as it was a rather good one and we did a straight across trade for the cheapest guitar that they had, but live and learn as they say. And anyway, I did not know beans about what was good in a guitar in those days and this one LOOKED like what I wanted.

I also got a beginners instruction book that got me started on chords and songs like GO TELL AUNT RHOADIE and such. These were not songs I wanted at the time and as soon after that as I could, I bought a Peter, Paul and Mary (incidentally, the very definition of everything my father objected to about folk music) songbook. Now I had songs I wanted to play and chords to go with them but when I tried to play them the guitar part just sounded completely WRONG! I was trying to utilize the instructions from the beginner’s book to “pluck the bass note, and strum the chord.” Very unsatisfying, yet there was no one in my life to help me fathom this mystery. I knew no players, I was young and stupid, and was just lucky that I didn’t get even more exploited than I did.

Anyway, I began to take the bus into the downtown area most Saturdays and spent much of my time there hanging out at the music stores, eyeing the guitars and perusing the books. I was too timid (or was it proud?) to try to explain my conundrum to the guys that worked in the shops, which might have led to enlightenment sooner. Or maybe they would just have tried to sell me books and/or lessons with more of the “pluck the bass note etc.” school.

Then one Saturday, as I looked though some folk song anthology that included a section on technique I came across a reference to “Travis picking”. It was described as plucking the bass notes with the thumb of the right hand and picking out patterns of notes from the chord with the fingertips, or nails, of the same hand. At first, I remember, I was confused, and reread the passage quite a few times while some unconscious part of my mind was processing this new information together with the sound of the guitars on the records I listened to. Suddenly the revelation burst through into my consciousness, like, my very own road to Damascus!

I hustled out of the music store to jump the first bus back to my neighborhood. Getting home I rushed straight up to my bedroom and in a matter of minutes was fingerpicking a fair approximation of PP&M’s “Polly Von”. What a rush! I cannot describe adequately the state of my consciousness that afternoon. I was excited, ecstatic and elated!! I played and learned until my fingers were totally raw. I am still amazed at how suddenly it all fell into place for me that Saturday, how it was almost easy all at once. A life changer for sure!

Nobody beats the Biz

Picture, it – Laurel, MD – 1997.  I was at the Laurel Mall with my parents, waiting for them to finish bargain hunting for off-brand appliances at Montgomery Ward.  I perched myself near the food court and stared blindly ahead, pondering what cruel twist of fate had led me to spend a Sunday afternoon at a piece of crap mall in a town a Cracker Barrel away from respectability.   

I looked up and suddenly, standing there before me like a vision from on high was the Diabolical Biz Markie.

Like every red blooded American of a certain age, I am a gigantic Biz Markie fan.  I know all the words to Just a Friend… and the names of at least two of his other songs.   And here he was at the Laurel Mall –  It was like Zeus himself had stepped down from Olympus to pick up some novelty sex toys at Spencer’s Gifts.

I stared in awe at the great beat-boxing behemoth before me, paralyzed by his mere presence – hypnotized by the movement of his massive hands as the he juggled his large Orange Julius.

My eyes gaped. My jaw dropped.  The Diabolical Biz stared at me like I was Trig Palin. 

“What’s up?” he said, clearly confused by why this suburban youth held him in such high esteem.

There was so much I wanted to say, things like “Can you say ‘Oh Snap’ for me?”  Actually that was pretty much all I had.   Yet, in the passion of the moment, all I was able to muster was a creaky, “Hey.” 

It was, without question, the single greatest day of my life.  

En fin gammal dykare med vacker tavla och fullt fungerande 17 juvelers automatiskt verk.

Dag- och datumvisning fungerar och växlar som det ska. Snabbinställning av datum genom att vrida kronan framåt halvt utdragen.

Svårt att säga någon ålder på denna men spontant skulle jag säga att den tog sina första stapplande sekunder någon gång på 70-talet.

Verket är signerat Montgomery Ward, Seventeen 17 Jewels, UT 38, Cal. 334.

Mått: 37 x 45 x 12 m.m. utan krona (bandfäste 18 m.m.). Nytt svart läderarmband.

En vackert sliten och charmig dykare som nog mår bäst av att stanna på land. Tickar och håller tiden.

SÅLD!

Sewell Avery And The Great Black Hope

by

R.E. Prindle

     How long are we to suffer the incompetence of Barry and his Boys.  In only fifty days he and they have completely trashed the United States.  I don’t think even Reverend Manning thought Barry could work so fast.

     As Barry says, this is just the beginning, it goes downhill from here.  So let’s take a lesson from Sewell Avery. 

     For those who don’t remember Avery he was CEO of Montgomery Ward back when they existed.  (Wink, wink.  Get the hint?)  He wasn’t cooperating with the Pres. (FDR at the time) so they sent in the army and physically removed him from his office.

     Let that be a lesson to us.  Form a million man march on Washington and get the job done.  Walk right into the White House, pick Barry up and put him on a plane bound for Nairobi.

     Then over to Congress to form a bucket brigade and begin tossing those worthless Congresspeople into the street beginning with Nancy Pelosi, Harry Reid and Charlie Rangel.  Save Ted Kennedy for me.  I would love to escort His Worthlessness to the door.

Sounds sort of rash but I’m afraid there’s nothing for it.  Talking nice isn’t getting anything done.  Whoever sent this B team in to play anyway?  Not me.

THINK ABOUT IT!

I was reviewing a presentation by Dave Morgan this afternoon and I had such an odd thought cross my mind. The list of traditional brick-mortar establishments that have defined our society (at least American society) for so many years is filled with many stalwart names. Some have recently taken an economic turn that will challenge our notion of what those business mean to our lives in the future. It is a personal thing, but I’ll try to illustrate by touching upon a small portion of the list.
Circuit City shutting down. Wasn’t Circuit City the modern (but more high-end) version of Radio Shack. There wasn’t much you couldn’t get at Circuit City and there were always plenty of geeks and nerds around if you had questions (some didn’t even work there, but they seemed friendly and helpful, so why not, eh?).
Macy’s closing numerous stores. I never set foot in a Macy’s growing up, but it definitely was a name with which I was familiar. For some like my wife, it was part of holiday shopping trip traditions. Nothing stings quite like messing with traditions. I’m sure I’ll hear all about it when the time comes.
Office Depot closing over 100 stores. OD is certainly one of those places you knew you could find the office supply stuff you were lacking. Granted they were never terribly competitive with their pricing, but their stores were a part of office supply rituals and back-to-school shopping trips.
Steve & Barry’s closes 8 stores (including one here locally). My immediate reaction is who cares. I thought the place was filled with over-marketed garbage sold at near-counterfeit prices (ponder on that one). The fact that our local S&B was in a dying mall probably colors my opinion a good deal. I’m sure this closure will disappoint the dedicated bandwagon fan who will be madly searching for a Steelers/Cardinals jersey right after the game is over and they know which jersey to buy, wear and claim to have owned for years.
Finally, Sears is having issues? That hurts, because Sears was my personal Macy’s growing up and has always held a strong position with me anytime I needed quality handtools that were unconditionally backed up with a guaranteed, no-questions replacement policy.

As more stores shrink or disappear, the customers that have relied upon those stores for some period of their life will have to adjust, whether be an annual trip for school supplies or a monthly trip to knock out the office supply list. Where do you go now? I’ll bet you can find whatever you seek at www.__________________ (fill in the blank). I’m quite certain some would shrug and matter of factly ask, “so what?” I can live with that reaction, because that is the reaction I would expect from those who have broken free of the brick and mortar mentality. Maybe it’s a borderline boomer thing, but there are plenty of people who haven’t made the jump to an electronic shopping mindset. It’s coming. Imagine yourself immersed into a historical parallel: 1872, middle of nowhere, but you have a Montgomery Ward catalog. It has pictures, descriptions, prices and an address to which the order can sent. Talk about a business that exploded and all without the benefit of store fronts, sales clerks, annoying perfume smells, mortgages/rent, etc. Why? People didn’t have any other choice. It worked then…why not now?

I have previously covered desk pen restoration in my posts of December 21, 2007 and January 19, 2008, titled Rube Goldberg Ink Delivery Machine and Fishing For A Desk Base.  Both of those were Sheaffer Desk pens. This week I worked on a Gold Bond Stonite Desk Pen.

After taking the pen apart, a couple of items stand out.  First, there is quite a bit of discoloration at the end of the barrel, where the section was seated.  I am not certain what caused this, but suspect it was the hard rubber of the section bleeding into the plastic of the green barrel.  There was no sign of an old sac or pressure bar inside the pen.  This leads me to believe that someone had taken the pen apart at some point to attempt to clean or repair it.  They may have just decided to use it as a dip pen as the nib and inside of the base were caked with ink.

I, unfortunately, did not take a picture of the base before restoration, but the black marble material was quite clean.  The “trumpet”, or black holder for the tip of the pen, was coated with dried blue ink.  The gold swivel base between the trumpet and the base was tarnished and stained.

I removed the section, which was friction fit, from the barrel and had a bit of trouble removing the nib and feed from the section.  I finally soaked it in the ultrasonic cleaner for 3 minutes and then was able to knock it out.  I cleaned these out and polished the nib.  One thing to remember on desk pens – the feed needs to be thoroughly cleaned as it is often much dirtier and caked with ink than in a regular capped pen.  The nib and feed have often been sitting in the base for years and the ink has pooled in the base.  This feed was a good example as the dried ink had filled all of the channels.  So, I gave it a long swim in the cleaner and then used dental floss to clean out these channels.  It worked surprisingly well and there was no risk of damaging the rubber.  Thanks to my local dental hygienist!

The barrel needed to be cleaned and I wanted to try and remove the stained area near the section as much as possible.  The stain seemed to extend through the plastic, but I used a small piece of 1000 grit sandpaper to work on a 1/2 inch strip near the section end.  After about 10 minutes of careful sanding, I polished the entire barrel using scratch remover, then polish, and them carnuba wax and a buffing wheel.  The results were very good and the brown staining has disappeared.

I needed to place a new j-bar into the barrel which is quite narrow.  I had to bend the j part of the barrel inwards a bit to allow it to seat properly into the barrel and align with the lever.  Then I attached a thin sac (size 15 1/2) to the section/feed/nib assembly.  After allowing the sac cement to dry I reinserted it into the barrel.

The base was the next project.  As I mentioned, the black marble base was clean.  It no longer had a felt cushion underneath to prevent it from scratching the desk, so I went out to the local craft store and purchase some green felt, cut it to the right size, and glued it to the bottom.

Next, I polished the black trumpet and then the gold swivel.  Special attention needs to be paid to the trumpet because, as with the feeds, they are often filled with caked on ink.  This was no exception, and I sat it upside down in the ultrasonic cleaner (before attaching the felt) for a while to help dislodge more blue ink.

Below is the finished product.

Here is a close-up photo of the Warranted No. 4 Nib.  I have seen Gold Bond pens with Gold Bond nibs and with Warranted Nibs.

As I have mentioned in previous posts, Gold Bond Pens were produced in Chicago, probably by National Pen Products. They were marketed by Montgomery Ward Stores, both in stores and through catalogs. I do not know the exact year that this pen was produced, but given the green marble plastic and its popularity with other pens of the time (Parker Duofolds / Sheaffer Flat Tops ….) I would speculate it was sold in the late 1920s.

I also do not know if the base is original to the pen.  I purchase it with the pen, and the pen seats well in the trumpet, but the only way to be certain would be to see advertising from the period, which I have been unable to locate thus far.  I will put this forward as a research project and add to this post at a later date should I find further information.

I am not a desk pen user, except for a simple Esterbrook set on my workbench that I use to write in my repair journal, so I will probably not use this one.  It will occupy a proud spot on top of my pen case however, as the green plastic really shines.

*I originally wrote and nearly posted this Dec. 2.  I was pretty pissed but I felt this post was overly judgmental and snarky in the worst way.  When I heard about the man trampled to death at a Wal-Mart, I thought for sure I’d see all sorts of backlash against them, against consumerism, against it all.  But no, not so much.  So this is my blog, and I get to say what I want.  Skip this post if you would rather stay on the lighter side of Nim’s geekcraftery.*

Sigh.  Look, I’m not a Scrooge.  Really, I’m not.  I just get super fed up with the expectations, pressures, and implications of this holiday as the gift-givingest, gut-bustingest, wallet-emptyingest holiday of the year.

It hurts me to think of families going into debt for gifts they think they “should” be giving.  It hurts me to remember my own super-poor Christmases when my mom actually apologized for not having a “better” Christmas.  I remember wondering what she meant.  I was too young to care about gifts or the lack.  But those expectations were set for her from years of her own childhood Christmases, and for sure our expectations as a nation are set now, in soul-siphoning stone.  You must give.  You must give big gifts!  Big expensive gifts!!  They won’t love you otherwise!  They’ll wonder why you’re a loser!  They’ll think you’re horrible!  …It pisses me off.

How about celebrating the people in your life or the religious icon that the day actually started up for?  How about anything meaningful at all?

Did you read WalMart’s new tagline for the season?  “Christmas costs less at WalMart.”

Wow, really?  I’m extra-glad I decided to boycott WalMart a few years ago.  It’s been at least 3 year now.  WalMart, you’ve quantified Christmas so egregiously that you can compare it out to other vendors.  This actually made me angry as I sat at home Friday after Thanksgiving, happily watching whatever TV was on and knitting up a storm.  Why was I knitting?  I could buck against the expectation of gifts, but why be a jerk?  Instead, I’m going way back to a few years ago, when every last gift I gave was hand-made.  I’m taking lessons from that Christmas and applying them to this one.

On that Christmas, I made everything or traded for something handmade.  A soap-making buddy of mine and I swapped batches: I got a few hunks of hand-made soap and she got a few loaves of homemade breads and cakes.  I gave foods and other consumables like ski and movie passes or car wash tickets where I could, made hats and scarves, of course, and even embroidered floor-pillow cases for my furnitureless sister-in-law.  I pressed flowers from my garden that summer and framed them for my new niece’s nursery.  Sure, some gifts were totally hated (Uncle Ralph didn’t care much about his monogrammed towel wrapping a bunch of nuts [which he usually likes]), but some were kept, used, and loved.  This year I had people asking me to make them things.  Happily!  And for the folks who don’t appreciate it quite as much, I listened to them closely this year.  Dare I say I paid more attention to them when they spoke?  Now, I know what they need or want.  I can make sure that if I do buy something, I can pretty well guarantee they’ve been needing it and just forgetting or neglecting to get it for themselves.

What about you?  I’m not saying we should all stop giving gifts, although that idea has merit too.  Go read that article No Impact Man wrote.  It’s good.  It gets you thinking.  His whole year of low-impact living is really interesting.  Heck, I’m not even saying that we should give only handmade gifts (although that’s also a great idea).  All I’m saying is if you’re going to buy something, DON’T buy in to the idea that bigger pricetags on bigger gifts bring bigger smiles.  Don’t buy in to the idea that Christmas is the gifts.  You don’t believe that, do you?  You were appalled by the employee crushed to death on “Black Friday”, right?  And that it’s now called “Black Friday” at all?  It’s not like it’s a dark day; being “in the black” is to have positive ledgers in your account books.  In the red is in debt, or a negative cashflow.

Let’s imagine the timeline:  It’s the early part of this century and the Depression is over.  Babies are booming and so is the economy.  But folks remember the Depression and use things up forever.  Let’s change that. Let’s make folks keep buying stuff so this boom will last.  No really, let’s design them to break (planned obsolescence) and force them to buy more.  Hm.  What else?  Let’s also make Christmas crazy-big and tell people it’s a huge deal and get them into stores.  Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer?  Created for Montgomery Ward.  Let’s get kids’ noses pressed against windows and make this a huge deal for them, put pressure on their parents to keep up with all the other parents and so on and so on.  Let’s run toy ads during cartoons; let’s run sugar cereal ads with cartoon characters “for kids”; let’s rot their minds, hearts, and bodies with all of this.  Let’s print a “wishbook” each year, filled with thousands of must-have toys for this year.  Let’s make sure every kid knows that Santa grants wishes penned on special notes to him.  Let’s build it all up, make it an industry, and start up the engines earlier and earlier each year.  Let’s have folks wait in line starting Thanksgiving Day … or before.  Forget about Thanksgiving feasts with families.  Let’s get them waiting in line for the perfect gift with the “best prices” for the happiest family and the bestestest parents in the world.

I got off track a little there.  Sorry.  Point is, this really irks me.  If you celebrate Christmas, celebrate the reason.  If you observe it as a cultural thing, do the traditions, but don’t make it about THINGS.  Is that really all it’s about for you?  If you don’t care either way but have nieces, nephews, or children whose little minds are already warped, think outside the paper-wrapped box.  Give them gifts you really put time into or that can help them learn and grow or that they can use well past the planned expiration date.  Go watch the Story of Stuff.  Start thinking, just think, about what all that consumerism, expectation, demand, and junk is doing to those young little minds.  Ask yourself if you really want gifts, yourself, or if it’s the thought that counts for you.

I admit, I love surprise gifts.  I love the feeling of being thought of, of someone seeing something and thinking of me, of somehow being present with them even if we might be miles apart.  But which are you giving at Christmas?  The gift or the thought?

Just think!  That’s all I ask, America. Just frigging think.

I found out yesterday that Rudolf was a Montgomery Ward PR creation.  What, are they going to tell me next that Santa Clause isn’t real?

My younger sister (thanks, K!) introduced me to a musician by the name of M. Ward a couple of months back, and I have to say that I’ve been listening to his music almost non-stop ever since.

This may be old news to those of you who already know of him, and many of you might be thinking, “Where the hell have you been, Jameel?  This guy has been around for years!” but to me his music came as a revelation, and a very welcome one at that.

I won’t wax poetic (or as near as I can ever get to it) about his music too strongly, except to say that he has somehow managed to combine several seemingly contradictory genres of music (folk, blues, rock and even country) under his equally improbable raspy, yet gentle, voice.  And somehow it works so well that it feels like nothing has been juxtaposed at all.

Give a listen to one of my favorite tracks of his, “Poison Cup,” from his album Post-War:

If you like that track, please buy the album.  There are many other amazing songs on it, like the nostalgic and beautiful titular track, “Post-War”:

On an unrelated note, while searching for M. Ward, I stumbled across this:

Montgomery Ward Online Catalog

Can you believe they’re back in business?  And how ironic that they are relaunching during such a depressed economy when it was the last recession in 2001 that ultimately killed them.

Honestly, I loved “Monkey Wards” and miss the stores, but I seriously doubt they can ever go toe to toe with the likes of Walmart and Target.

Still, it was a surprise to see, and a reminder that not everything that dies stays dead.

Hell, look at Pan-Am Airways, which was revived (in name, at least) FOUR times after it ceased operations in 1991.  And though it’s gone again as of this year, we know from Blade Runner that it’ll be around again in post-apocalyptic 2019, too.

Montgomery Ward…..hello…..

I wonder if you realize that your first promotional email is in my spam folder.  Better yet..is VerticalResponse telling you this?

Check it out….

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I suspect that 2 things have happened at Montgomery Ward and their email program.  Either it is run by a group of monkeys and they get free bananas if they push a button or they happened to pick out this one poor soul at a meeting and say “hey you…you have marketing experience…run our email program..I mean how hard can it be?”

This is quite possibly the worst sign up and user experience I have ever had to go through from a major company in many many years.  It is as if Montgomery Ward is stuck in 1996 in the way the are doing email and I am fearful to even get their first promotional email.

Forget about a welcome strategy or even a welcome email, because I am still waiting for mine.  In figure 1 you will see that at the bottom of their page is where you can sign up for email.  First off….bottom of the page…..hello?  In figure 2 you will see the page I am taken too when I enter in my email address from Figure 1.  Not that bad, but I have a pre-checked box and I have to enter my name.  Nothing more..nothing less.  I can accept that.  However, here is where it gets just plain bad.

Look at figure 3. I am taken to this page after I enter my information on figure 2.  No branding, no link back to the site. I either have to close out my browser or tab.  Horrible horrible customer experience.  Figure 4 is my confirmation email……with images turned on in gmail. With images turned on!!!  No branding..no M.W. logo, nothing.  Pathetic.

While I admire that they have a double opt in process and send me a confirmation email, here is where it gets even worse.  At this point, I want nothing more than to take a baseball bat to my head and have someone put me out my misery.   In figure 5 you will see the confirmation page I am taken to once I click to confirm from the disastrous confirm email.  Again, no branding, no link to site….nothing. A wasted opportunity.

Montgomery Ward…please for the love of God, go and hire a professional email marketer or consultant to help you through this thing.  You have a decent name, but yet you serve it up via an email experience that is about as fun and inviting as my next kidney stone.

By the way….its been about 6 hours…..and no welcome email.  Oh well…guess you don’t want me to shop there or welcome me into your program.

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Question: I have a Montgomery Ward Gas Stove and the oven has stopped working. However, the top burners still work. What could be wrong?

Answer: Check the timer control and make sure the oven is not in the automatic cleaning cycle. Following that, you’ll want to check the common wiring, selector switch, and thermostat. Make sure the controls and selector switches are set correctly. If the range control reads push for manual, push the knob in and try your oven and broiler again. If this doesn’t help, you probably have a faulty selector switch, thermostat, thermocouple, or a wiring problem.

If there is no separate selector switch for bake or broil, most often the problem is the thermostat. There’s not really an easy way to test the selector switch, so if you think there’s a problem with this, you should call a professional appliance repair person. The thermostat should read 0 ohms when in the “on” position. If you need to purchase a Meter, click here.

If you need to know how to adjust your gas oven thermostat, read about how to do it here.

Do you have additional questions about gas oven repairs and problems and what to do the repairs yourself? Find gas oven repair solutions on our website.

Do you need Montgomery Ward Gas Stove replacement parts? You can buy Montgomery Ward Gas Stove replacement parts online at APWagner.com Appliance Parts and Accessories.

True to our name it is only appropriate we capture each significant moment in the birth, life, death and resurrection of Montgomery Ward.  Arguably the first mail order catalog, Montgomery Ward.com was acquired by Midwest Catalog Brands Inc., a subsidiary of The Swiss Colony Inc., from Direct Marketing Services Inc. (DMSI) for $15.5 million on August 5, 2008.

Montgomery Ward closed its catalog and retail operations in 2001 due to falling sales. DMSI purchased much of the brand’s intellectual property assets in 2001.  For some time The Swiss Colony has been expanding into various segments of retail, such as fashion and home décor, a far throw from smoked meat and marzipan.

With a broader product offering and recent moves to strengthen its internet businesses, John Baumann, president of The Swiss Colony said “It is extremely difficult to grow consumer catalog businesses today. We’re finding that more consumers are using Internet search engines for shopping or are visiting name brand sites,” he said in a statement. “Although the Ward brand needs to be rebuilt, it does have strong recognition among consumers.”  The acquisition also included the Charles Keath and HomeVisions catalog and Internet properties.

As of this writing the three brands are offline.  A search for MontgomeryWard.com produced a rather ugly web page which said in part.

“We are in the process of moving Montgomery Ward onto a new operating platform and expect to have our new website operating soon. Your business is important to us, and we apologize for any inconvenience during this transition. In the meantime, please use the following contact information…: (a couple of email addresses guiding visitors to customer service.)

One would hope the websites will be re-launched soon; the catalog is expected to reappear in early 2009.

Stay tuned! We’ll be announcing the winners in our Ugliest Sofa Contest tomorrow.

Special thanks to all of our finalists and for everyone who voted for their favorites!