And Now...a Word from THEIR Sponsor

Courtesy of my main man Sean Mc, check out this commercial starring Roy Clark, who is shilling for Pringles potato chips:

It's not just regular Pringles. By cracky, it's COUNTRY STYLE Pringles.

"Hey, Roy, can I have your autograph?"
"Sure! Have some Country Style Pringles!"
"Uh...no, that's OK. Just the autograph would be cool. Thanks."

Despite Roy's jaunty little jingle, I can't figure out what makes Country Style Pringles country style other than the "denim" can (which I do love, by the way). Are they fried in possum fat and beat with an ol' switch right after they're dumped out of the pan?

In an attempt to figure this out, I checked out a longer spot for the same product. This one ups the ante on country metaphors ("I'm hungrier than a moth on a nylon sweater!") but doesn't add a lot of detail beyond it's a NEW kind of Pringles. I'm not sure "a peck of hearty flavor" really explains it for me. But then again, I'm a city dweller, so maybe I just don't get it.

Oh, and the denim blue can. Can't forget the denim blue can.

And Now...a Word fromTHEIR Sponsor

(NOTE: This is a cross-post with Battle of the Network Shows, where you can grab the latest episode of our podcast, in which we discuss game shows Sale of the Century and Face the Music)

It's not difficult to envision Jim Perry as a consummate pitchman. He's so polished in all  his game show work, and his Sale of the Century stint indicates he is comfortable pushing product. One of my favorite YouTube uploaders, Bionic Disco, just posted an early Perry commercial that throws me a bit, though. He just looks so...young in this one. Check it out:

At first, I am taken aback by the haircut, but as I settle in and get past that (OK, it may have taken me a few watches), I am THERE. I want that salt.  I mean, I want that salt he has right there in the ad. I want to take that little jar and chug that Morton's Lite Salt. If this were Sale of the Century, I'd throw away $10--the value of two questions--just for a heaping portion of salt. He wouldn't even have to sweeten (or salt?) the deal by throwing in a set of shakers.

The poise, the delivery, the confidence--even in the 1970s, Jim Perry was the man.

And Now...a Word from THEIR Sponsor: Just for Feet???

Yes, there was once a chain of shoe stores called Just for Feet, and it was apparently a big deal. I think this is a horrible name for a retail store. "Foot" might be acceptable--see Foot Locker--but "Feet" is really pushing it. I don't want to walk into a store called 'Just for Feet." I worry that my page views are gonna plummet as a result of putting the word "Feet" in the title of this post.

No offense to Quentin Tarantino, but feet just ain't my thing, and in fact the word itself is a little off-putting unless it's as the unit of measurement. There's a reason why this is so funny:

This chain originated in the south, and I never entered one of these stores, so this fascinates and repulses me in 2017. Did this store have to be JUST for Feet? If you want to sell shoes, fine, but offer some other products or at least the illusion that you might find something else in there. Even Payless sells umbrellas and hats and stuff.

So here is a vintage ad for...Just for..Feet.:

And Now...a word from THEIR sponsor: Nimoy better have been paid well for this

(Note: this post originally ran this weekend on our website for Battle of the Network Shows, which covers shows like In Search Of... and which just happens to be returning for season 2 this Thursday)

It's 1980-ish, and Leonard Nimoy has a lot going on: In Search Of is in first-run syndication, he's doing hosting for radio dramas, he has an MA from Antioch, he's making stage appearances and developing his on-man show Vincent covering the life of Vincent Van Gogh...

and, yeah, he was just in Star Trek: The Motion Picture. For a guy who wrote a book called I Am Not Spock, he sure didn't run from the franchise, and I think we are all glad he did not. But, man, it seems a little disrespectful to get the guy to shill for your product in semi-Spock mode:

First of all, the outfit makes me...uncomfortable. Second, you have to love the concept: Put Leonard in some kind of vaguely futuristic ensemble, make it look like there are stars behind him, and, VOILA--space!

I wonder if Nimoy is thinking, "I don't need this stuff. I have all these bad-ass, non-revealing suits I wear on a little show called In Search Of, and I'm doing just fine hosting that." You know what, though? It's possible that he didn't know they would add that cheesy transporter effect at the end. In fact, though I'd feel bad that they did that to him, I kind of hope that is what happened.

Or at least, I DID hope that until I did some research and found that Leonard had been doing this before. Check out this 1979 spot:

He even uses the word "logic" here...several times. I'm surprised he doesn't say he'll give a nerve pinch to anyone who doesn't sign up for Atlantic Bank's checking accounts.

Say it ain't so, Leonard Nimoy!

And Now...a Word from THEIR Sponsor

Welcome to a new recurring feature in which we focus on vintage commercials of yore. Today, I'm hungry for some pizza. Are you in the mood for pizza? Yeah, I'm always in the mood for pizza. Let's go out for some.

Someone want to explain this to me?

I don't have a problem with Tim Conway--fine performer getting the job done here--but what the deuce is the concept of "Straw Hat Pizza"? "Hey, let's make people really feel at home by making them think they're getting their pizza from..." What? A bunch of rubes? Hayseeds? What exactly is the gimmick, and how does it pertain to pizza? Did the employees enjoy wearing those big straw hats? Actually, I 'm pretty sure I know the answer to that last one.

I think "Big White Chef Hat Worn by Guy with Stereotypical Thick Black Mustache" Pizza would have been a better choice, but this was apparently a real direction that a franchise chose. Nothing like getting your pies from someone wearing...a straw hat! And if that isn't appealing enough, check out the lovely 1970s brown-centric logo.

Straw Hat Pizza: "All for fun, and fun for all." Why, that sure does look like a fun joint. I wonder if kids got a free straw hat with every pan pizza. Other ads show the row of fun--basically, a handful of arcade games--a little better. Hey, back in those days, a standalone Frogger was a big deal, something worth donning your straw hat and heading outside to see.

(Note: I begrudgingly did some research and discovered this chain is still around. Straw Hat, I may not understand you, but you have several dozen more restaurants to your name than I do, and for this I respect you.)