JB's Warehouse & Curio Emporium

We continue with the second of six vintage Gulf ads discovered in the Warehouse. Commentary by J. Percival Wexford-Snoopington, Ph. D. Stations offered various levels of windshield cleaning service. This ad neglects to mention that free service meant a spit shine. Every pump jockey grabbed sticks of Beemans or Black Jack gum to get the saliva going, then go into a single-wing formation to spit at the windshield. Ladies were provided with spitguards in case any attendant had poor aim. Stations in wealthier areas provided windshield washing with water imported from hot springs across America, promising theraputic benefits for one's jalopy. Only the purest cotton was used to cleanse the glass. As for the "no obligation", attendants would continually pitch higher-cost services in between questions about Aunt Dot from Springfield. This form of salesmanship eventually became a lost art until it was revived by most modern banking services. - JB

Saturday evening was like a baseball doubleheader, only the games were on opposite sides of town. Our story begins at Lansdowne and Bloor, site of this month's Chowhound dinner. Seven of us met up at Pura Vida, a roomy bar next to the subway station which several people had heard about on CBC Radio. A big screen TV silently played a Spanish translation of A Fistfull of Dollars, while a smaller one showed a soccer show. We started with a round of appetizers: plantains with a sharp white cheese, nachos and "naked" bread. The name of the latter drew us in, and proved a good choice. Turned out to be a variation on bruschetta, loaded with the same sharp cheese, jalapenos, tomatoes, sharp sour cream, etc. The menu's promise of extra "goodies" with the nachos also caught our eye - good they were, fresh chips loaded with meat, beans, peppers, sour cream, etc., but not overwhelmed by gobs of cheese. As for the mains, I had baked enchilladas in green sauce, acco...

The Warehouse recently found some snapshots of Gulf Oil advertising, from the 20s or 30s. We forget where we picked these up, so apologies are given to whoever we lifted these from. Historical notes have been kindly provided by J. Percival Wexford-Snoopington, Ph. D. This is the first in a series of six ads we'll feature over the next few weeks. Note that above any other products and services Gulf Oil provided, rest rooms were considered the most important. Gulf's expert team of regional latrine orderlies were the envy of competitors. Even quarts of motor oil and window cleaning were of secondary importance to making sure customers could relieve themselves in the utmost comfort and gentility. The clean rest room for ladies and gentlemen was the most popular of all. No way any dirt or dirty thoughts ever touched these sterling stations. No way. Nor were the old whiskey stills often found in the rest rooms at the height of Prohibition a draw. Meanwhile, the extra time mot...

Moved the Sunday Constitutional to Saturday this weekend. Extended the usual route, blinded by the sun as I followed Queen to Roncesvalles. Only purchases were a cheap 3-CD set of a Louis Armstrong bio that aired on CBC Radio and Charlie Chaplin's autobiography. Odd conversation in the bookstore I found the latter: CLERK: Chaplin. JB: Yes. CLERK: Cash. JB: Yes. CLERK: Five. JB: Here. CLERK: Bag. JB: Pack. CLERK: Good. JB: Thanks. CLERK: Later, alligator. Darn, the last line broke the monosyllabic, rapid-fire rhythm.

They're back...after a long absence, everyone's favourite annoying moving company is telemarketing its heart out. Yes folks, Boris, Janos and the gang are back looking for your business. There were two messages on the phone from the master of lousy accents tonight. What can you expect if they tap into your phone? * They now represent a nameless moving company. Nary a mention of Best Price or Athletic Movers, just a van and expert staff. * Janos' accent has mutated into the world's worst Dr. Strangelove imitation. His message was so bizarre, I've saved it for future transcription. He'll even move your aquarium, the one with fish in it! I'm curious if Jean-Pierre, Reggie, Tugboat Bill and others are also out there drumming up business for the now-anonymous company. Leave your message at the tone. - JB

Adventures in crossing the Niagara River... Headed down to Buffalo on Saturday for my usual border run. It was an uneventful drive until I pulled out my wallet at a red light just before the Rainbow Bridge. Birth certificate - check. Driver's license...hello, driver's license? It dawned on me that I'd driven around for three weeks without my license, ever since I put it in my other wallet for Raquel's birthday (didn't want to bring along the full beast that night). Cue a couple of minutes of self-directed anger. I drove around downtown Niagara Falls, dithering over heading back to TO or taking a chance with the soulless Niagara River border guards. What did I have to lose? I put the birth certificate back in my wallet and headed onto the bridge. Pulled up to the inspection booth, pulled out my birth certificate and half-feigned a panic attack. I got lucky, as the guard suggested every possible card I could own that might have photo ID on it, down to Costco mem...

Recently, the Warehouse has received an avalanche of calls from customers concerned that their personal enviroments don't have the right scent. They've heard about Shania Twain's Scentstories fragrence discs and wanted to know if we were going to marry the magical worlds of music and air freshen...er...environmental aids to provide solace from the hustle and bustle of daily life. The Warehouse contacted one of our valued vendors with suggestions for extensions of this line, which we know our customers will appreciate. After extensive market research and many long days journeys into night, we have come up with our premiere selection: TOM WAITS - 1970s EDITION It's a new disc theme that plays five amazing scents reminiscent of the old man bar or cheap greasy spoon in your town. Transform any environment into one dripping with character, smoky haze and that distinctive barroom stench. Also on the drawing board: We're looking for the next teen bimbette singing...

The parade of friends' birthdays continued this week when we caught Kung Fu Fridays at the Royal Theatre. The chop-socky fun began with a couple of trailers. Hero Among Heroes looked like a hoot fest, complete with actors wearing ridiculously false buck-toothed choppers. The evening's raffle came next. We loudly oohed when the first number was read off, but awwed when nobody came close to winning any prize (the British flick about sumo housewives sounded neat). The feature was presentation was The Golden Mask , which seems to be easier to find info about on the net under the name Golden Killah (here's a review from Kung Fu Cinema ). The copy shown had the most unintelligble subtitles I've ever seen. Syntax and spelling were clumsy at best. The audience hooted and hollered at the homoerotic subtext running through the titles. They also left many plot points up to the imagination - if you weren't paying close attention, you might have thought it was a tale of ...

Since the first time I went out with the Chowhound dining group went OK , decided to check out their January destination Friday night. This month's pick: Red Violin , a Brazilian BBQ at Danforth and Broadview. The evening got off to a rocky start, when I went into the wrong resto. I briefly lost the ability to match the sign above the correct door - I entered the Latin restaurant next door, left a puzzled maitre'd when none of the names I rhymed off were on the reservation list, then finally noticed a review in the window. After heading next door, all was good. FIRST COURSE To start, they offered up a salad/seafood bar. Not exactly your offering of limp iceberg, the spread featured hot and cold seafood (great shrimp in tomato sauce), a variety of cheese, slices of guava paste, various vegetable salads and addictive thumb-sized cheese bread. All delicious. MAIN Soon after, servers came around with large skewers, each with a different type of meat. They came to each perso...

After seeing ads on newsboxes touting a new look for the Sunday edition of the Toronto Star , the newspaper junkie in me couldn't resist giving it a try. The Sunday Star has been redesigned to be "Canada's first maga-paper", as editor Alison Uncles put it: ...a hybrid magazine-newspaper that blends what is the best of both mediums. From a newspaper, we bring urgency, relevancy, quick-paced thinking and the resources of Canada's largest newsroom. From a magazine, we borrow a step-back sensibility, colour, the luxury of deliberation and beautiful design. For their maiden effort, they tried too hard. The paper looks like the efforts of somebody who received a bunch of new toys and went overboard in their enthusiasm. The new paper consists of the following sections: The front section - besides the headlines, now incorporates elements of the old World and Metropolis sections. Not too bad looking - manage to keep use of colour backdrops on articles low, thoug...

Hey folks, how did your 2005 begin? A glass of champagne? A memorable night out? An evacuation from a subway car? Mine started off like many others, with a round of champagne as soon as the clock struck midnight. Most were in good spirits at the party, drifting between the kitchen and living room. I had my fair share of booze...don't ask me to remember what I had. The crowd gradually thinned, going home or to other destinations. I was one of the last to go, hopping onto a deserted train at Spadina around 2:20. The first revellers hopped on at Osgoode. The driver came over the loudspeaker, chiding those on the station platform who dangled their legs onto the track. Cue maniacal laughter in my car. As the train filled up, the Osgoode crowd dangle from the handrails as if they were monkey bars. Nothing like piss-drunk kids for early morning entertainment. Around 2:45, the train entered the tunnel leading into Eglinton station. Suddenly, it stopped and the lights went out. Announ...

What did you do in 2004 that you’d never done before? Started and finished writing a short script. Bought clothing at Le Chateau. DJ a wedding. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year? Didn't make any last year. As for new resolutions, try to keep in better shape, reduce the nuclear stockpile of food and go to more gatherings with total strangers. Did anyone close to you give birth? No, but a few were married. Did anyone close to you die? No. What countries did you visit? Usual trips south of the border, though no new ground was covered, other than some neighbourhoods in NYC. What would you like to have in 2005 that you lacked in 2004? A steady partner-in-crime. What dates from 2004 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? No exact dates stand out, though there were many memorable days. Lineups around the block to get into a bar in NYC on St. Patrick's Day. Road hockey in Ottawa. JD and Elizabeth's day o' bliss. C...

Got an email from a friend about ther meaning of Xmas song lyrics, specifically I'll Be Home For Christmas . Not a subject I've ever thought long and hard about - I can never quite get into the Xmas music mood, with odd, usually jazzy exceptions. Still, it got me thinking about other tunes we're all subjected to over the holidays... The one that always bugged me was the full version of We Wish You A Merry Christmas . Most people stick to the first verse, a simple greeting wishing everyone well. So far, no problems. Verse two suggests your guests have ulterior motives in coming over to greet you. No poignant words about brotherhood and peace on earth, no religious or secular allusions. Nope, it's a flat out demand for figgy pudding. "Bring it right here". You'd think it was trick-or-treaters at the door. By verse three, the once-merry carolers have turned into the Things That Wouldn't Leave! None of the intruders on your premises are willing to le...

An update on the Best Price Movers saga. After another break in calls, they've cranked up the phone mail spammer again. Big change - no more pitches from Boris/Janos/Reggie/Tugboat Bill. The past two calls have been a female voice, calling herself Anna on the first, a different name on the second (skipped through it, didn't pay much attention). These calls are done in a normal, non-phony accented voice, and have fewer vocal flubs than her male counterpart. No more "ahhhhs" or "ummmmms". This doesn't change the fact they're still annoying, especially now that they're less amusing. - JB

Met up with the gang for our yearly ritual of watching/mocking the Santa Claus Parade. This year's viewing spot: Bloor and Bathurst. Went down to meet everyone, but didn't immediately see them. After a quick phone call, discovered they were around the corner, on the opposite side of the street. Cue horror movie scene trying to reach them. The crowd was thick, with little room to move. Right at the corner, movement came to a dead stop. I was squished in the crowd, more crowded than I'd ever been. Two people near me almost put up their dukes, because one guy refused to have his view obstructed for five seconds to let somebody through. Nobody got through, as more tried to push their way in both directions. If anybody had fallen, it would have been curtains. It was nearly enough to send me back onto the subway. Somebody finally pushed through and the crawl resume. Finally made it across the street and joined the others. It took awhile for the stress to wear off - when m...

It's interesting where offhand remarks will lead you. While driving Nile and Dee home after my last dinner bash, the subject of improving one's wardrobe came up. I guess Nile had been down about career prospects when Dee suggested that he might want to start with his wardrobe. After devouring several style books, he was born again, a man with a mission: to improve others like him. Guess who said they'd offer to be a guinea pig, in light of recent dating blunders... So it was with a mixture of bemusement and fear I hopped in the car with Nile and Dee the other weekend. Understand that I've been a conservative, relaxed dresser most of my life, happy with loose shirts and jeans. Sure, I owned a pink sweater during the height of Miami Vice, flannel during the grunge era, etc, but never dragged them out much. Fear of clothing shrink often led to buying clothes that didn't reduce in size, making me look bloated. We headed out to the scene of his conversion, Orfus ...

We're back this year with more items available exclusively at JB's Warehouse. Remember - we're there to serve your gift-buying needs! Jones Soda is launching a limited-edition, no carbs/calories pack of the following holiday-themed flavours: * Cranberry * Fruitcake * Turkey and Gravy * Mashed Potato and Butter * Green Bean Cassarole Mmmmm, artificial green bean cassarole flavour... Undaunted, the folks in product research here at the Warehouse have come up with their own unique spin on carbonated beverages. Introducing JB's Own Handcrafted Fast Food Sodas ! * Cheeseburger * Chicken Wing - available in mild, honey garlic and Buffalo varieties * Nachos with Cheese * Poutine * Veggie Dog - for the vegan/vegetarian crowd Our researchers have also come up with these exotic JB's Handcrafted flavours: * Mucus - when you want a taste of cold/flu season without the distraction of falling ill! * Candy Heart - complete with floating messages, just like...

For awhile, it's been in the back of my mind to take the digital beast out on the town to snap shots of all of the former Coffee Time locations that haven't done much to mask their former identity. Coffee Lime, Coffee Tim, Coffee Tip...the city's full of them, ripe with humourous possibilities. Alas, I've been beaten to the punch. Here's the result , now merged into the Not Fooling Anybody site of buildings with thinly-concealed former lives a(mostly as fast-food outlets). There are a few spots on the site from Toronto and Detroit I'm familiar with - here's some comments (go to the index page to find them): La-Shish (Wayne, MI - formerly Taco Bell) - never been to this branch of the popular Metro Detroit middle-eastern family restaurant chain, but it would be an improvement over a run for the border. Amy and I usually go to the location on the Dearborn/Detroit border along Michigan Ave, where fresh smoothies and monster salads make our stomachs ha...

I was flipping through the business section of the Star a few weeks ago when I came across a story about the Indigo bookstore chain shifting its focus more into gifts, "healing" items and other oddball accessories, reducing the number of books to about 60% of a store's inventory. Plans were also mentioned for converting the remaining Coles bookstores into the "IndigoLite" chain, with a greater emphasis on accessories. All this in a quest to make the company the "book lover's cultural department store". I wanted to throw up. While I admit I spend many lunch hours in the Indigo a block from the office, I can't say I'm in love with the place. It's been easy to see the number of books decline, as more of the first floor is taken up with items like expensive marinades/drink mixes and new age products. This is more pronounced at the chain's downtown locations, where floors that used to hold tomes now feature more and more of the ot...

Back in early August, I spent a week at the family compound sifting through the tons of old sports mags kicking around. It has taken awhile to go through them, but the light is at the end of the tunnel. There's only a couple of boxes to go through before they have all been prepared for eBay or hacked up for clipart. For a few years in the mid-late 80s, little sports junkie Jamie subscribed to Baseball Digest and Hockey Digest . These mags were as old as the hills - my father had a couple of crumbling issues from the 50s kicking around. Not deep, analytical reading, but enough to kill off the afternoon they arrived in the mail. Even then, I sensed these digests were in a time warp. The ads were the giveaway - into the early 90s, you could still order Fleetwood 7" records of late 60s sports highlights, posters of NHL stars circa 1973 and hats with slots to display your favourite player's sports card. The NHL poster offer was especially funny, given that no team posters...