Farewell to Cal Worthington, and his dog Spot

This week Cal Worthington died aged 92.

For non-US readers, Cal Worthington was the used car salesman who came to epitomise both used car salesmen and the type of funny/annoying, hard-sell, earworm-jingle TV ads that he did so well.

Cal Worthington image by Mntbloom / Wikimedia Commons

When I was nine my family moved to Los Angeles and I vividly remember Cal Worthington. He was all over the TV all the time. I am sure he was extremely annoying, but to kids (and probably my America-besotted dad) he was fantastic.  I still remember my dad calling us over to the TV when we had only just settled in LA and saying "You've got to see this guy, come and look at this!"

Australian TV ads in the 70s could be strident ("From K-Tel, record $3.99, cassette $4.99!"), but we had never seen anything like this before.

The ads started with a booming voice-over: "Here's Cal Worthington....and his dog Spot!", as Cal jogged through his car lot wearing a cowboy hat and suit and leading an exotic animal on a leash (or on roller skates, or in a sidecar). It was a different animal every time; once he even rode an elephant.

Quite rightly animal protection laws would not allow such ads these days.

The ads were also often LONG and would itemise tens of cars and deals, with Cal's sales patter throughout ("I will stand on my head till my ears turn red, to make a deal"). There was often a give-away such as steak dinners, or kids' toys, or random crap like "this umbrella hat you can wear on your head", on offer whether or not you bought a car (but I wonder how many people got away without buying a car?!)   At the time we were there (1979-1981), there were similar car dealer ads on TV, but Cal's were the best (or the worst!). I don't know whether others imitated him or if he was just part of a trend at the time, but whatever it was, he nailed it.

And the jingle.... I've had the jingle stuck in my head for the last two days:

If you want to buy a car go see Cal 

For the best deal by far go see Cal 

If you want your payments slow 

If you want to save some dough 

Go see Cal, go see Cal, go see Cal

It was impossible not to like him. He seemed so happy and good-natured, and there's something admirable about those super salesmen who will happily and regularly make themselves ridiculous for success.

He had quite an interesting life, as I've learned this week. He was also a quintessential American success story, rising from childhood poverty to a huge business that owned multiple car lots and properties and even a studio which produced all his ads. (I was surprised to read in the New York Times article where I learned of his death, that he recently said, "I never much liked the car business. I just kind of got trapped in it after the war. I didn’t have the skills to do anything else.")

He was also part of my childhood. In 1979 Australia was a very different place - not worldly and not acculturated to the US the way it is now. So when we arrived in the US it was honestly like a different world. There was little that was familiar, so that was hard adjusting - but at the same time we all loved the outgoing, relaxed and ultra-friendly style of the culture there. It's hard to convey now how fresh and different it all seemed.

Cal Worthington was one of the defining icons of my childhood America. (He shares this honour with Peter Popoff, Phil Donahue, Geraldo Rivera and John Davidson). He personified America to us.  



Here is a tribute combination of a whole lot of his ads from the 1950s through the 1980s.

Rest in peace, Cal Worthington. My sister and I still love you!

Oh OK then, here are some more:

http://consumerist.com/2013/09/10/7-reasons-wacky-used-car-salesman-cal-worthington-will-never-be-forgotten/

http://www.mydogspot.com/video.htm

Words for Wednesday - 4 September

'Words for Wednesday' is a writing prompt held by Delores at Under the Porch Light.
I did this for the first time last week, and enjoyed it a lot.

Last Wednesday's words were:

crystallize

morbid

fragrance

cling

instant

blueprint

Here is my contribution. 

In those dying days Alan took calls from a hundred desperate clients.  They rang at all hours, in a panic, some weeping. There were others he called, who were unable to make a decision, silent on the other end of the phone in their shock. Some were still strategizing, taking a hit here or there to crystallize a loss for a write-off, or scanning value stocks with a buyer’s eye even as everything went to hell. In the office things were frantic for a couple of weeks, and then quiet, as the money ran out and the phones stopped ringing. Some of the advisers took a holiday, or stayed home. But Alan was salaried and anyway had nowhere to go. So he stayed at his terminal, watching the lines of red numbers with morbid, daily obsession.

There were moments, even days, where things seemed to pick up, as a few stocks bounced up from rock-bottom and the market pounced. When these bounces lasted more than a day, the office became vibrant. Even though everyone knew it was nothing it was good to be busy; good to remember the excitement and the happiness from past times – the sweet fragrance of wealth.  It was easy to cling to that buzz and that hope, and everyone did.

Alan was young and had missed the bull market. “You’ll catch the next one,” they told him. They even said his timing was perfect because he was building up clients and knowledge right now, and when the market took off – as it would, finally – he’d be in on the ground floor.

But meantime the perks were all gone. The cars, the lunches, the drinks, the gym memberships, the couriers and the dry cleaning – not to mention the cash bonuses. All gone. They were never coming back, everyone said.  Of course, they probably would, eventually. Just not to this generation.

Companies struggled not to sink and withheld that truth from their staff. All over the city, companies sank or merged or were bought out, and people lost their jobs. Alan had no idea how his company was faring. No one did, either inside or outside the dealing room.   Internal communications insisted all was well.  Prospects were good, said the emails, and the company’s strengths and market share were keeping them in the black even as others sank around them. Things were tight, no question – and it was true that some serious cuts would need to be made. But if everyone stayed focused and kept doing what they were doing, then the company would continue to do well, buoyed by its greatest asset: its people.

The communications never mentioned the company’s balance sheet. They were light on detail and never included a specific dollar amount, target figure, future date or indeed any number of any kind. They were all words – words and no numbers. In an industry which was usually, proudly, all numbers and formulae, someone had changed the language. 

Outside the dealing room and away from the numbers, priorities had changed in an instant. Gone without mention were the old roadmaps, goal sheets and mission statements. The policies and procedures page kept moving on the intranet, and whole sections were gone. The only direction now was to survive. The blueprint was secret. 

Sunday Selections #136

This is a weekly meme started by Kim of FrogPondsRock but now hosted by River at Drifting Through Life.

The rules are very simple:-

1. post photos of your choice, old or new, under the Sunday Selections title

2. link back to River somewhere in your post

3. leave a comment on River's post and visit some of the others who have posted and commented

Last week, I moved desks at work, which is part of a good thing because the company is growing and my area is expanding its square footage in the office. 

The bad thing is I lost my lovely (and lucky) window seat, and also the company of the rest of the group. My boss and I (and soon a third) have moved into an adjoining room to make way for new starters. Where I used to sit I was sometimes distracted by the noise, but I also enjoyed the easy and constant conversation. I am now in a very quiet room without distractions, but it is a wee bit lonesome - and I am also facing a wall. 

I miss my window seat.

I took these photos before I moved.

In defense of undecided voters

I'm getting a little tired of the criticism being dished out against undecided voters.

We live in a democracy.  We have compulsory voting in Australia, which ensures a level of political engagement across the board and guards against governments that don't represent the will of the people being voted in on a 30% voter turnout, like some other great democracies we could mention (*cough* America! *cough*).

Disengaged voters

Some people are not interested in politics, or believe the two major parties are "the same" or "both as bad as each other". Some people cast their vote based on who their spouse/family/friends vote for (or who they think those people are voting for), or on tangential things such as the way a leader styles their hair, or whether the leader is a woman, or who has a nicer smile, or whatever.   There are a fair number of those people, but I don't think they make up the majority of the electorate.  I don't believe these voters make up a big enough block to worry about (mostly), because many of them will vote informal**, and others will cancel each other out, as they exist across the political spectrum.

dan/freedigitalphotos.net

**Edit: I just realized this picture makes it look like I'm calling disengaged voters donkeys. It's meant to go with the last sentence about voting informal - the "donkey vote" (voting informal / donkey vote = spoiling your vote paper)

"Rusted On" voters

Some people are "rusted on". These are the most utterly committed, who see every election as critical and wouldn't change their vote no matter what was thrown at them. These are the most strident, opinionated voices, some of them sensing conspiracy in every news comment or poll result, and disaster and the collapse of society/the economy/human decency/the world should the other side win.  These are the ones who will say things like "I could never vote x", and they mean it. There are a lot of these people (especially on Twitter...) but again they are not the majority.

Ambro/freedigitalphotos.net

(Mostly) Committed voters

The majority of people (probably) are in general committed to one party, and will mostly vote that way. You most likely belong to this group. If you think about your personal ideals and beliefs around how work, the economy, social issues and to what degree government should fund health, education, infrastructure, opportunity, growth, investment and welfare, you can most likely work out pretty easily which way you lean.

Some of these people will vote differently in some elections, or may be "undecided" during part of the campaign, if things are different / better / worse than usual, or if, just to chuck out a hypothetical here, one party has been riven by infighting and destabilization and seems to be tossing out new contradictory policies every which way rather desperately, and the other party seems inadequate or ill-prepared, or the leader seems a bit embarrassing. You know, hypothetically speaking.

Swinging voters

Some people are truly "swinging voters", and it is often said disparagingly of these voters that they are self-interested and vote according to what will benefit them. As Lee Iacocca said of his family in his autobiography, "When we were poor we voted Democrat and when we were rich we voted Republican."
Here's the thing: there's actually nothing wrong with that. It's kind of how elections and democracies are built to work. No matter how fervently you believe you vote for the good of the country, there is some level of self-interest in the way you vote. YES THERE IS.

Political belief and self interest 

Think about it - really think about it. Where do you stand on welfare, industrial relations, infrastructure, health services, education, the environment, taxation, education, business, growth, social mobility?  OK. Now... what is your job? What do you want to do? How do you want to live? Do you have kids? How are your finances? What are your kids doing or what are you hoping for them?

It's entirely natural for your aspirations and circumstances, as well as your personal philosophies, to inform the way you vote.

I like to think I vote out of what I think the country needs at this time - "the greater good". But it's funny how often what I think is best for the country tends to correspond with what will be (mostly) better for me, or for what I aspire to, for me or my kids.  Analyzing my beliefs and my decisions I can admit I vote where I think the country needs to go which is also where I WANT the country to go, to fit my own ideals or goals.

Undecided voters and swinging voters make democracy work!

Yes they do! If everyone voted the same way forever there would be fewer changes of government, and no new policies ever.  Politicians would only target the youth vote to get all the new voters, and my god, imagine the consequences of that.

If no one was ever undecided or changed their vote, we would never get new leaders, or stirring oratory or debates or costings or any of it. Polls would be simpler, and so would the taxation system, but our whole economy would lose momentum and business would either eat us all (Liberal) or wither and die (Labor), and life would get horrible fast.


I'm not a swinging voter - not really. I've called myself that in the past, but I mostly vote the same way. Except sometimes, when I don't.

During this election campaign, I have been undecided (I'm not anymore).   I have not been undecided because I was disengaged, ignorant, selfish or stupid. At no point did I consider passing an informal vote.

I believe certain things and I believe this election and this campaign to be difficult. I also don't think you always vote in line with your core beliefs. That may sound weird or silly, but I think there are times when you feel things need to go a certain way and that's not a vote for forever; it's a vote for the next three years.


So there you are - you can probably work out which way I'm going to vote.

What do you think? Which kind of voter are you? Do you hate undecided voters? Have you ever changed your political leanings?

(Last) Wednesday's Words

'Words for Wednesday' is a writing prompt held by Delores at Under the Porch Light.
I haven't done one of these yet, but I enjoy reading River's so thought I would give it a go.

Last Wednesday's words were:

drugged

scandalous

frying

clerk

entrance

hidden

Here is my contribution.


I awoke in full sun, heavy and slow as if drugged. I had to pull myself together. I was losing control, losing my grip on proper behaviour. Sleeping all through the morning every day this week, barely leaving the house, speaking to no one. A scandalous way for a grown person to behave.

I blinked and sat up slowly. I could smell eggs frying from the flat across the hall. There'd be no frying here. I'd be lucky if there was enough bread and butter to make toast. Was there coffee? I couldn't remember, but I thought there was not.

I didn't get out of bed. I couldn't go into work. I just couldn't. I hadn't been all week, had stopped calling in sick. I had stopped answering the phone, and I'd ignored the buzzing at the door yesterday too. A colleague had come to the entrance of the flats, buzzed and called my name, and then accosted someone walking out the security door, but they hadn't let him in. Today there was silence. What could they do? They'd fire me, I knew. I didn't care. I was just a clerk. They didn't need me. I didn't need work, if only I could stay hidden in this flat, this room, this bed, for long enough. 

But as it turned out, I couldn't. This was the last morning I would spend in this torpor. Because although I didn't know it at that moment, everything was about to change.


And thank goodness for that. I have no idea where this "story" would go, but I couldn't just leave the poor character in that state ;)

I think we're done here

Hard garbage week this week. So we spent a good part of today clearing out EVERYTHING old and broken from our garage.

Our girls are nearly 8. I'm nearly 44 and Y is a few years older. So we figured it's probably about time we got rid of The Baby Things.

Over the years I have actually got rid of a lot of Baby Things. Clothes, sleeping bags, various toys and other small accoutrements have been gradually handed down or given away, in the beginning reluctantly and with sadness, and later, to my surprise, with something more like relief.

It's both sad and wonderful to see your babies grow up. I was so emotional, for so long, at either side of my babies' birth, and for a good three years I parted with nothing. I didn't want my children to stay babies (GOD no) but I could quite happily stand in the garage and press my face to an old sleep suit and pick up just a trace of that glorious, sweet baby scent - one distinct scent for each baby - and it made my heart jump and sing every time.

But eventually those scents faded and went, and our garage piled up with stuff we would never use again, had no one to hand down to, and could not sell. I did always intend to sell our baby stuff, but somehow I never got round to it. I booked a stall once at a baby market - but I was sick and couldn't go. I planned a trip once, to a second-hand baby gear shop - but I was too busy and couldn't go. I decided to donate our twin pram to the Multiples Club we belonged to - but somehow I forgot to do that.

I did give away a lot of things, mindful of how much had been given to us. Clothes were always passed on to my cousin for her daughter, one year younger than ours.  Of our actual baby gear though, little was shed, for one reason or another. Some went to my sister when she had her baby, but by that stage most of our stuff was pretty old and new stuff was so cheap.  By this point, we wouldn't be able to sell anything.

So this year, nearly eight years after our babies were born, the last of it has finally gone.

Well, not yet gone, but sitting on our nature strip awaiting the annual hard garbage collection.

How long did it take you to get rid of The Baby Stuff? Was it difficult?

What makes little girls creepy?

I recently watched the pilot episode of The Walking Dead. Or I should say the first half, because I found it a little creepy and am not sure if I'll continue. (Hey AMC, I don't think this will be the show to replace Breaking Bad for me).

At the very first scene, you know things are going to be bad when you find yourself walking behind this silent, shuffling little girl:

You seriously don't want her to turn around, do you?


The Shining had the creepy ghost twins.  I was going to put a picture here, but honestly, I just don't want it on my blog. You can see it here if you want to get that sick thud heart-in-your throat reminder.

Poltergeist had that little girl's sing-song voice saying "They're heeeere!"

Dawn of the Dead: the daughter zombie right at the beginning

Firestarter: Drew Barrymore being not-so-cute

A Nightmare On Elm Street: the little girls playing skipping rope outside, and chanting "One two, Freddy's coming for you..."

The Others: a bit different in that the "ghost" was a little boy - but the scene with the little girl with the gauze over her head during the seance is the scariest bit in the whole thing

The Exorcist: Forget the head turning and the still-shocking swearing, I have one scene for you: young girl in nightgown scuttling down the stairs backwards. Good God, it still freaks me right out.

The Cabin in the Woods has a ghost girl in a classroom of Japanese schoolgirls, which is a creepy scene all round. It also has zombies, knife-wielding clowns, werewolves and a rabid unicorn - but is the scariest monster of them all perhaps the little twirling pink ballerina girl? (Yes).



And then there is the scariest of the lot.....

I used to love horror films. I kind of still do - sometimes. Then in 2002 I saw the scariest film I had ever seen in my life: The Ring.  Just as Stephen King's "It", many years ago, traumatized me for horror novels forever, The Ring cured me of horror movies for years. And yet, no longer enjoying them but unable to stop myself, I returned for The Grudge and Dark Water. This makes the terror trilogy of stringy-haired ghost girl movies that are so completely, utterly scary. They are scary because of the style and cinematography. They are scary because of the vengeful ghost who punishes completely innocent people (instead of misbehaving teens). But mostly, they are scary because the monster is a dead little girl with long dark hair!

Why are little girls so scary?
Or at least, what makes them a good trope for scariness?

I have two little girls. They are not in the least scary.  But I'm as freaked out as anyone by a scary dead girl-child in a horror movie. They are scary in a way that little boys are not scary. Why is that?

If you Google "scary movies with little girls" you get a lot of stuff. You get a million movies with scary little girls in them, you get a heap of "top ten lists of scary movies with little girls in them", and you get some theories and commentary on why little girls are scary (like here, here, here and here).


I'm guessing the same as most people, that little girls in scary movies are scary because they invert how we see little girls. We invest A LOT, culturally (or perhaps psychologically - maybe this crap is universally human) in seeing little girls as sweet and pure and passive. It freaks us right out when we suspect that maybe they are not all those things. If we lose control of our little girls, we lose control of women, sexuality, reproduction, society, the lot!


Or maybe we suspect little girls hold secrets, or we fear the power they'll have as they grow.


Here's a comment on a "why are little girls scary" thread on a gaming review message board:

"Damn, I could be playing Quake 4 and see giant monsters and not have any reaction at all but a little girl in the right situations creep the **** out of me."

People respond as above, about how we don't expect little girls to be dangerous and it's about subverting our expectations etc, but he replies:

"Its not like she even does anything scary…she just appears and scares the crap out of me."

Then there's this post:

I think that would scare me too.

What do you think? 

How our lives have changed

From this (2007):

To this (now):

It is truly remarkable how much the smartphone has changed our lives, in such a short time.  It's become a different world in 6 rapid years.

When I go out, even for a walk, it feels natural to me to be holding my phone in my hand. Not in my bag, or in my pocket, but in my hand.

I only walk and read sometimes - mostly I refrain from using my phone while I'm actually walking, because you don't want to be one of these people.

I don't tweet, Facebook, read or text too much in front of the kids, because you don't want to be one of these parents.

I'm only on level 41 of Candy Crush. I have wasted more time than is healthy playing dumb games on my phone, but I've petered off from that now. There is only so much time in the day, and we have less time than ever, so why fritter it all away on playing games?

But so much is so good. Twitter: news, conversations, comedy and reading: I love you, always and forever. Google maps. Google anything. Texts, messaging and email. Postcodes, currency conversions, Greek name days, constellations, world maps, bus timetables and movie screenings at a glance. News, essays, NASA photos, fiction and podcasts 24/7.  Utilities: pedometers, calculators, trackers, diaries, flashlight, remote logins for work.

The only thing I don't use my phone for that much is telephoning.

The other day I went walking and I left my phone at home. Last week I left it on my desk while I stepped out for lunch. It sounds ridiculous I know, but on those two occasions it was like stepping back in time, to the world as it used to be. Pre-smartphone, I didn't always take my phone with me. I didn't have it switched on all the time. I certainly didn't sleep with it tucked under my pillow as I...um..."sometimes" do now...

We are all uneasy at being "plugged in" 24/7. We all know that too much internet (too much anything) is bad for us. We all know we have to limit our screen time or we will live our lives plugged into the matrix and not living real life at all.

If you're older than me, you probably find this whole thing quite perplexing, simple or absurd. Baby boomers don't tend to struggle with smartphone addiction. If you're younger than me you probably don't see the problem.  Maybe it's a Gen X thing.

Anyway, it's changed our lives. The smartphone, the internet, and the seductive combination of the two.




Image credit:
@leftsider tweet image from HuffPost Tech "oldtweets" story from 2012: read here.
This image is of an embedded tweet which is public.
Second image: 9Gag

Sadness

Today's post is a bit of a downer, and I'm sorry about that. I'll probably regret posting it. But I just cannot shake the sadness right now.

I have two beautiful, funny, loving, interesting daughters. One of them is pretty and funny and clever but is going through her own battles with anxiety and self-loathing (which naturally I feel guilty about - I don't think I model these [really!] but she did get my crappy DNA). The other is happy and resilient and popular and is also tall and thin and lovely; this makes her shorter sister jealous and her father go on and on to me about how gorgeous she's going to be, both of which things irk me no end. But at the same time sometimes all I feel too is an overwhelming anger at the world's treatment of young girls and their egos, and I worry how I can protect her and how she can preserve her happy confident self in a world so threatening and unsafe.

I know, glass half full, right?

I'm not normally like this, I'm really not. I know I can't keep my children safe from all harm, and I also know they are not likely to meet it. I know parents project their own worries, regrets and failures onto their children. I know kids are their own special people and have strengths and abilities we underestimate, and that kids are not just the sum of their parents.

But the past week has contained this:

• Syria
• Our corner milkbar was robbed in daylight and the lovely woman who runs it with her husband was attacked and stabbed - she is unable to work and will need multiple operations and plastic surgery to recover. She had to run into the street, bleeding and crying, and flag down a car for help. Her attacker was caught, but she and her family are traumatised. Her husband is manning the milkbar alone, and their lives are changed. These are good, lovely, excellent people. I cannot get over the fact this has happened.
• Vandals spraypainted all over the school. I know it was just high school kids who used to go there and it's no big deal, but it's still an ugly thing.
• My daughter A had a big old meltdown at school and required an intervention from two teachers and the visiting psychologist to help her. They did help her, and she's OK, and all is OK, but still.
• Another horrible, horrible gang rape in India. While it's been only 4 months since the gang rape of a 5-year-old there, and the countless other rapes happening every day
• Miley Cyrus getting attacked all over the internet with the usual vicious ferocity that rains down on any twenty-year old trying to shake off a cutesy childhood past and try on the sexy.

 I heard Colleen McCulloch on radio once talking about her life, when her autobiography was published, and she talked about the different feelings she had when her son and her daughter were born. With a son, she said, you felt his life and future were so full of promise, that he could do anything and be anything. With a daughter though, you feel a bit like, well, here's someone else who's going to go through all the same shit.

It keeps seeming like things are getting better, and then it seems obvious they are not. These are times when seeing any gorgeous, happy young girl makes me anxious, protective and angry. I know that's not right or helpful, but it does. When I see grown men salivating over girls in their teens, or children playing games where the girls self-censor or are censored by their playmates for being tough, strong or heroic; when I see my girls, and all girls, in all their beauty and promise about to step up into a huge, exciting, wonderful and dangerous world, I am overcome.


How do you shake off sadness?

Sunday Selections: New Sneakers

Sunday Selections is a weekly meme started by Kim of FrogPondsRock but now hosted by River at Drifting Through Life.

The rules are very simple:-

1. post photos of your choice, old or new, under the Sunday Selections title

2. link back to River somewhere in your post

3. leave a comment on River's post and visit some of the others who have posted and commented

This week I was intending to post some Puffing Billy photos, but I don't like putting my kids' faces on the blog and the best photos have their lovely little mugs in them, so I'll leave those photos for now.

Meantime, today we bought new sneakers. Both kids are rapt: they have got themselves the coolest, jazziest sneakers we've ever seen. 

And I was rapt because they are good quality and weren't hugely expensive and thanks to loyalty cards I got one pair completely free.

A said, "Don't forget the side view, Mum!"

M chose sneakers of such gorgeous garishness that she is in awe of them. They have flowers, peace symbols, sparkles and diamantes. And they light up.

It was only when we got home that I remembered we were supposed to be buying everyday sneakers they can wear to school with their uniforms.