PAST, PRESENT, FUTURE

In decidedly topical news, Barack Obama became president on Tuesday. Since this here prez is an advocate for "change" and all things new, my post tonight will be about things that are old, things awkwardly missed with half-hearted nostalgia, things that have vanished in the waves of change to become glimmering gems in that miraculous bejeweled capelet known as history. So here are three things, only recently gone, that I think of every now and then with a mixture of confusion and fondness.

1.KUDOS BARS
Technically these are still in existence. Apparently there are people out there who head off to the supermarket with Kudos Bars inked onto their shopping lists, but I get the feeling that the true popularity of the Kudos Bar ended around the year 2000. Think about it. When did you last hear some friendly blonde guy with big arms or glamorous housewife in a velour jumpsuit offer you a "kudos"? Much like the death of the slang term itself (the question of whether it was ever truly popular must be saved for another day), the Kudos Bar has been trumped by old favorites like Quaker Chewy Granola Bars (defended against the ravages of time by a peace-loving Quaker) or hip new favorites like Nature Valley, a brand that offers both tooth-shattering bricklets of granola and a new gooey "Sweet & Salty Nut" variety that appears to be dipped in plastic. Stop & Shop rip-offs of these brands probably sell better than the Kudos Bar at this point. Still, I'm glad to see that this thanklessly drab snacking experience has yet to bite the dust.

Figure 1. Two hands rubbing together in illustration of a not-so-popular American phrase.

2. SAMANTHA PARKINGTON, AMERICAN GIRL
A disturbing note on Samantha Parkington's American Girl page reads: "She's moving into the American Girl Archives. Say farewell as we prepare to preserve her place in American Girl history." The original bad girl of the Pleasant Company's 1986 catalog, Samantha was a poor-little-rich-girl with a vast collection of pinafores, a dignified grey dress she wore while delivering impassioned speeches about orphan girls just like her but more abused, and a really bad temper. She tried to make peppermint ice cream for her birthday & that bad neighbor boy seasoned it with rock salt, and her grandmother was weirdly called Grandmary. There's nothing not to like about Samantha, who would never have carried a spoon on her waist like Kirsten or stolen a horse like Felicity (she'd just get Uncle Gard to buy her a stable full of ponies). It's safe to say that Mattel is making a huge mistake in packing Samantha away in a jar of formaldehyde, if only because the red velvet bowler she sported with such aplomb seems to be making a comeback as a hip hat style amongst the youth of the day. This it-girl's only 22, after all! It only just became legal for her to frequent all those sampler-stitching medicinal cordial bars (even though we all know she's been buying Dr. Mustachio's Boot-Knocking Bitters since she was like fifteen or whatever, thanks to that fake ID provided by sassy young Auntie Cornelia). Don't send her away on the tides of change for at least another decade.

Figure 2. A contemporary actress takes her style cues from Miss Parkington, influential fashionista.

3. QUINTS

That the only website still dedicated to Tyco Quints is a fan page created by one "tyco_qunit_lover" [sic] says everything about the sorry demise of a once-beloved toy phenomenon. Perhaps no one described Quints quite as well as the New York Times in their February 1990 article, "Five Babes in Toyland":

Each set of Quints consists of the dolls -- three girls, two boys -- dressed in numbered diapers and ensconced in a strip of quilted bunting that sleeps five. The set, which costs $10, also includes five numbered baby bottles attached in a row on a long plastic strip, suggesting an oar for infant galley slaves.

Who knows what made the Quints so enticing? The vast clouds of hair surrounding their oddly adult faces? The all-pastel color palette used for their creepily numbered ensembles? Before the idea of quintuplets was linked to scary fertility drugs, the idea of a puppy-like litter of children with matching bathrobes and tubes of toothpaste might have seemed strangely appealing. Apparently some Quints sets involved ponies and Wedding Pretty Hats, but my Quints were more low-key. They sported plastic cups perfectly shaped to fit into their clawlike hands, perhaps part of the Washing Up Quints set? No matter what, it's safe to say that Quints are dead. Sure, you could buy a set on Ebay, but it's probably all messed up and some toddler ate at least a few of their ten lil' slip on shoes back in 1991. Still, the glory of Quints lives on, and this is what the Obama administration is all about -- celebrating the perfect things that make up our country's history while moving forward towards a new future, hopefully replete with Quints Dolls revivals.

Figure 3. The Quints celebrate Obama's victory.