I must be reverting to the mindset of an eleven-year-old.
My recent reminiscing about summer camp may have something to do with it, but this morning on the radio a comedy routine by George Carlin took me back fifty-three years to the front window of a dusty novelty shop in my hometown that purveyed a variety of treasures only a kid (or a very immature adult) could love: plastic ice cubes with flies in them, chewing gum that turns your teeth black, fake dog doo-doo, whoopee cushions, and (the pièce de résistance) phony vomit.
Who but a kid could ever believe people would fall for this stuff, much less blow one’s allowance week after week paying for such instruments of mirth and tomfoolery?
I still remember laughing so hard that my sides hurt and tears filled my eyes. Yet as I recall the only rise I could get out of my mother was a rolling of the eyes. The humor was all in my mind. She was probably dismayed that such brain-dead progeny ever issued from her womb.
If there is a heaven, she is up there shaking her head right now, because I have obviously learned nothing in all these years—I laughed out loud today during George Carlin’s routine:
Listen to George Carlin performing “How Much Is That Dog Crap in the Window?”
She’s still shaking her head because I even devoted a couple hours today researching the fake barf industry. What a supreme waste of time! “Inquiring minds want to know.”
Here are some fascinating facts you never cared to learn:
The idea of fake vomit was originated in 1959 by a guy named Ayala, who worked at Marvin Glass and Associates, a toy design consultancy. Ayala made up a latex prototype and presented it to his boss, who was thoroughly disgusted and hated it. Nevertheless, Marvin presented it to his client, the Chicago-based novelty company H. Fishlove & Co., which bought the concept on the spot.
If anyone deserves the title “Father of Fake Vomit,” it’s Irving Fishlove, the son of the owner of the Fishlove Company. Irving recognized a great gag when he saw one and applied himself to making the best vomit possible. A “secret formula” which is still as closely-guarded as the Coca Cola recipe was developed by Irving in the kitchen of his home.
The first fake vomit was marketed under the brand name “Whoops,” and was an instant hit with its target market—boys between the ages of 8 and 12. The product sold about 100,000 units a year, which was a lot at the time.
Author Stan Timm, who is developing a book about H. Fishlove & Co., says that imitation products have been developed by foreign competitors, but he turns up his nose at these. “I think fake vomit is something that America does best,” he said.
I hope you will not accuse me of being jingoistic if I agree.
۞
Groove of the Day
