These are shaped salty snack foods I'm talking about. And I know Daisys is misspelled, but notice that it is in the pictured ad, too.

According to the scant information I could find, Daisys, Bugles, and Whistles first appeared on the general market in 1966. They were produced by General Mills. And Bugles still survives today, but not the others.

It appears that Daisys and Bugles were similarly flavored. The plain-Jane Bugles you can buy today were the original flavor of 1966, salty corn. Daisys were shaped like, well, flowers, duh!, and seemed to be strategically aimed at dippers. Whistles were cheese-flavored. They were just the right size to fit on the ends of a kid's fingers.

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I've already written about Kenner. Today, we cover three more beloved toy makers who have regrettably slipped below the waves of history and live on only in the memory banks of Boomer children.

The first is Marx. "By Marx!" used to sign off all of their commercials, eagerly absorbed by many a 1960's-era kid on a Saturday morning, the prime time for TV to show such ads in order to reach their maximum demographic. This Big Rail Work Train ad is one I remember well. It seemed that Marx's specialty was BIG toys. That meant that it would take a special occasion to talk mom and dad into springing for one.

Marx was founded in 1919 in New York City by Louis Marx and his brother David. The brothers looked for innovative toy designs produced by others, bought the rights, and improved upon them. The strategy worked well. By 1922, both had become millionaires. Their business actually thrived during the Depression, and by 1955 Time magazine had declared Louis Marx the Toy King.

In 1972, the now 76-year-old Marx sold the company to Quaker Oats. In 1975, they in turn sold it to Dunbee-Combex-Marx, a British company. In 1978, that company went under, and so did the Marx name.

Indeed, some of the sweetest remembrances of the decade come from us kids, as can be evidenced by the wonderful popularity of I Remember JFK.

Today, we feature a review of a novel by a kid of the 60's, one Jim Potter. The name of the book is East Bench: a Novel. If you're familiar with Salt Lake City (I wasn't), the name should be very familiar. If not, read on. It soon will.

The book is called a novel, but it reads like a true-to-life remembrance by the author. The tale is that of a Catholic kid growing up in Mormon territory in a lower middle-class family. The Beatles have just appeared on Sullivan, and garage bands are springing up all over town. These impromptu groups frequently featured preteens playing with homemade instruments. It was a great time to be alive.

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My buddy John Sorrells walked in, threw an object on my desk, and said "okay, nostalgia expert, what's this?"

Without hesitation I said "Why, that's a curb feeler." John was impressed, but hey, I AM the nostalgia expert.

Curb feelers made their debut sometime in the early 50's as an accessory added to luxury cars by Detroit. However, they were inexpensive add-ons for anyone who wanted to protect their tires from the unforgiving concrete that made up street curbs. This was particularly the case if one had big whitewalls on their sweet ride.

Whitewall tires weren't really invented in as much as they were simply the original tires. In the automobile's heyday of the Model T, tires were made of light-colored rubber. The rubber didn't wear so well, so eventually, more carbon black was added to the tread area. This made for tires which were black around the circumference, but white on the sidewalls. As the entire tire began to be manufactured out of higher carbon-black rubber, consumers clamored for the look of their father's tires. Thus, sidewalls were pigmented with a wide white stripe.

Herb Alpert was born on March 31, 1935. That makes him a bit too senior to be a Boomer, but he was a strong source of memories for the Boomer generation.

His father was a tailor who emigrated from Russia. His family loved music, and he grew up listening to his father play mandolin, his California-born mother play violin, his sister the piano, and his brother the drums. When Herb was eight, he decided that he wanted to learn the trumpet.

A prodigy he was not. It took Herb years to make the trumpet sound the way he wanted. But he patiently stuck with it, and by the time he was sixteen, he had formed a small band that played weddings, bar mitzvahs, and the like in his L.A. neighborhood.

Not yet convinced that music was his future, he enrolled at USC after high school and joined the gymnastics team. However, he also played with the Trojans' marching band. In 1955, he was drafted into the army. He was able to grab local musical gigs during evenings to help support his new wife and family.

Herbert obtained a ukulele and learned to play it. He would spend hours singing the old refrains in his natural mid-baritone voice. By the mid 1950's, he was playing in small clubs throughout New York. Sometimes the crowds would laugh at him. Sometimes they would laugh WITH him. And sometimes, he would simply bowl them over with his unconventional appearance and his ukulele.

In 1968, a rather strange film was released called You Are What You Eat. The movie was a celebration of the Flower Power generation and their music, and featured performances by the likes of David Crosby, Frank Zappa, Barry McGuire, and a narrator/performer who had, in 1962, begun calling himself Tiny Tim. One particularly memorable performance involved Tiny Tim and a female singer performing "I Got You Babe," with Tim singing Cher's lines in falsetto, Eleanor Barooshian singing Sonny's lines in baritone.

The film was spotted by the producers of Rowan and Martin's Laugh-In, who booked Tiny Tim for an appearance.

Art Clokey, creator of Gumby, just passed at age 89. Enjoy this presentation of Gumby on the Moon, courtesy of a brilliantly imaginative mind that will be missed by Boomers and others alike.

Mr. Potato Head first appeared in 1949. An inventor named George Lerner enjoyed playing with fruits and vegetables as a child. He would attach other fruits and vegetables to, say, a potato so that he would end up with a creation that had a carrot nose and grape eyes, which he would then present to his younger sisters. They would delight in playing with the "dolls" until they would literally deteriorate. As an adult, he recalled with fondness how much fun it was, and decided to create something a bit more durable.

In 1949, he designed arms, legs, and facial features to be stuck into fruits and vegetables. The idea was a bit distasteful to Americans who still had wartime rationing fresh in their minds, as well as earlier memories of nearly starving in the Great Depression.

Lerner tried unsuccessfully to market his toy for a couple of years. Finally, in 1952, he showed it to a pair of brothers who had been specializing in the textile industry, but who had developed a small business on the side that was selling toys and school supplies. It was unlike anything they, or the world, had ever seen, They bought the rights for $5,000. That would turn out to be one world-changing investment.

Such is the case with today's subject, Lego.

I remember Legos being a hot new item in the 60's. But in researching this piece, I was quite surprised to learn that its history is as venerable as that of Lincoln Logs and Tinkertoys, going all the way back to early in the 20th century.

It all started with a Danish gentleman by the name of Ole Kirk Christiansen. He was in the business of producing buildings and furniture for the locals when, in 1924, his two young sons set a fire while playing with some wood shavings which destroyed Ole's workshop.

Ole took it in stride, and looked at the disaster as an opportunity to build a new workshop with greater capabilities. Thus, he began producing miniaturized versions of his furniture and buildings to be used as aids in designing.

The beauty of backyard play was that it was, for all practical purposes, free. The playthings might have been toys, or perhaps not. For example, one of my favorite pastimes was to spin around and around until I was terribly dizzy, then laugh hysterically as I tried to walk around without falling. It was just as much fun to watch my friends do the same thing. We would spend HOURS just spinning around and laughing.

I hope that today's youngsters aren't so hooked on computer games that they miss out on the simple pleasure of spinning around until you're too dizzy to stand.

And what greater joy was there than hooking up the sprinkler, putting on a bathing suit, and just running through it, over and over? An additional benefit was that the thirsty lawn would receive a drink in the process. That's what you call a win-win.

But thanks to a man named Abraham Katz, the female members of the Boomer generation were a bit more informed. The reason was that way back in 1934, he released to the world the Betsy-Wetsy doll.

Betsy-Wetsy, named after Mr. Katz's daughter, would take water into her mouth from the included baby bottle. And physics being what it is, as well as biology, the water would eventually be expelled from the southern end of said doll.

Thus were our female brethren more educated about the facts of life than we males who watched hour after hour of 50's era sitcoms which carefully hid the fact that people have to occasionally relieve themselves.

Thus were the American public presented with An American Family, And they were also presented with the birth of reality TV, for better or worse.

I'm not here to sit in judgment of reality TV. An argument could be made that Candid Camera was a prehistoric form of the genre. And I 'm heavily into The Deadliest Catch and Ice Road Truckers, two shows which seem to fit into the mold.

However, much of what constitutes reality TV homes in on the baser segments of human nature, and there are certainly some seriously low spots that can be tapped. An argument could be made that they are simply following the lead provided many years ago by PBS and the Louds.

But our fathers went through a more arduous experience. Open the camera, wind in the film, then, if the pictures were indoors, insert a flash bulb and instruct the camera to take a flash exposure. Then, of course, the exposed film had to be removed and sent in for processing.

It's the flash bulbs that we'll be concentrating on today.

Perhaps our fathers felt like they had it easy. They might have been old enough to remember when using flash involved igniting a pile of magnesium powder on a tray! But sometime in the thirties, the magnesium powder was changed to thin pieces of foil, and was contained within a glass bulb that was ignited electrically. It was truly a quantum leap in photography.

By the time we Boomers came along, the bulbs had been coated with blue plastic which provided the perfect color balance for use with outdoor color film. Thus, the same color pictures looked right whether shot inside or out. That plastic coating also kept the bulb from shattering from the sudden influx of heat, a common occurrence with earlier models. The foil had also been replaced with very thin wire strands.