(Before someone gets in a snit because they expected something else, I would like to point out that the year in the title of this post is 1958 and the images are from the issue of Sports Afield magazine published in December of that year. Also, I apologize to the anglers out there for the lack of fishing-related gift items but, I’m sure you’ll agree, these are gifts that everyone can use! ~QG)
Who among us hasn’t awakened feeling certain urges, knowing that the nearest bush/outhouse/privy is just too cold/far away/full of splinters and/or spiders to consider? Or that we’d feel better about ourselves if only we had a good old-fashioned status symbol to show off?
There is no indication as to just what kind of fur this pot to piss in is lined with but, of course, it’s real. Personally, it looks a little small, not much larger than a decent coffee mug, but what do you want for $3.95?
The same folks that brought us the $3.95 fur-lined chamber pot also offered up a tiny little outboard motor, just right for powering model boats or mixing drinks. At 1850 r.p.m. you can be sure your whiskey sour is well blended but keep your finger near that shut-off switch — whiskey sprayed in the eye burns like the dickens!
Enough of that silliness. Serious duck hunters required serious gear and if only there were a camouflage mask that didn’t cause game to flare as you scanned the skies. JVS Products of Council Bluffs, Iowa, had a two-dollar solution to that age-old problem, with their mask made of “tough, molded plastic” which had plenty of room to be worn over glasses and came in “variegated colors.” The grid-work, I assume, was either for ventilation to prevent condensation or for straining soup.
Of course, a majority of hunters surveyed indicated that they would rather receive a nice Browning shotgun than a cold plastic mask, though a man in a mask, carrying an automatic shotgun, would certainly receive a certain amount of attention in some quarters.
To keep that new firearm in top condition, you could stuff someone’s stocking with a gun cleaning kit from Hoppe’s. You still can and, from the look on Santa’s face, you probably should.
My favorite beard balm smells of patchouli, which for some reason seems to bother my more conservative friends. I also happen to like the smell of gun oil but some of my more progressive friends do not. When I mix a little Hoppe’s No. 9 with my patchouli, no one knows what to say.
Some folks are harder to match with a gift than others, especially those who yearn for the outdoors to the point they sit around in their undergarments and smoke pipes. Only quality craftsmanship can give us words like “RefrigiWear” but, by golly, they did it. If you ask me, though, these insulated undergarments look both heavy and bulky, not to mention sweaty. And quite possibly flammable, so watch that pipe, Bub.
And for a lot of smoking pleasure while in your undergarments, why not get yourself a tin of Prince Albert, once the subject of many a crank call (“Do you have Prince Albert in a can? Better let him out!”) that somehow seemed funnier when I was a child. “Mild,” “fresh,” and “tasty” are no doubt relative terms used by ad men.
Am I the only one with vague memories of bouncing pellets off the tile floor and knotty pine paneling of the rumpus room? Possibly, maybe, into a couch cushion but I don’t know anything about the window? Home shooting ranges have gone the way of lawn darts and Wacky Clackers, another indication of how times certainly have changed.
Handy for both hiding pellet wounds and those times one just doesn’t feel like putting on a shirt, nothing beats the feel of a wool dickey against bare skin. If that’s not itchy enough for you, wear it under a wool shirt. Men, women, and children all choose from the same one size but colors include “dead grass” and “grey.”
Some folks might desire a less rashy and restricting way to conceal wounds and wattles. Preferably in silk, a nice ascot is always classy, especially as gift-giving attire if you’re Jack Benny and giving your friends cartons of cigarettes. (What is that thing he’s holding?)
Perhaps you think it would be nice to deliver all these gifts yourself but are afraid of getting lost on the way. That may not seem like such a problem in this modern age, with cellular technology and GPS built into everything, but batteries can run low and cell phone coverage can be spotty, putting intrepid wannabe Santas at risk. Why not grab yourself a hard copy of all that data (called a “map”) and navigate your way with this handy device, once used by operators of planes, boats and automobiles the world over? Always working, and easy to read in any language, a “compass” did the trick for millions of people for hundreds of years. In 5 colors, with “modern” styling.
Christmas gift giving just isn’t the same these days but one thing remains constant and that is the wish from all of us at Fish in a Barrel Pond that all our readers be comfortable, safe and warm this holiday season and every other day of the year.
Merry Christmas, wubbas. Smoke ’em if you’ve got ’em!