JB's Warehouse & Curio Emporium

The things curiosity will lead you to do… About two years ago, my friend Sarah and I discovered a Detroit-based blog called Sweet Juniper . Among the great photoshoots of the author’s kids parading around Motown in homemade costumes (think Robocop as if it actually was filmed in Detroit ), there was a post with the intriguing title “ An Attempt to Explain Why I Smell Like George Brett’s Gym Bag .” Seems he has a friend who likes giving him unusual gifts—in this case, it was a bar of Grandpa’s Wonder Pine Tar Soap found in a garage. The packaging depicts a trustworthy old-timey white-bearded gentleman. Whether dispensing wisdom at a family gathering or helping the kids put on the show that will save the local library, Grandpa is undoubtedly a pillar of whatever community he produces his manly soap—in this case, suburban Cincinnati. He’s made his acne-and-psoriasis relief aid since 1878 , so it must have satisfied a few customers over the centuries.

Today, a dramatic presentation that combines tragedy, romance and humour in the name of selling soap. If only someone had forcibly impressed the message of this masterwork on my first roommate in university... Thanks to Lifebuoy, "B.O." became a catchphrase in the 1940s. Radio ads used a foghorn-effect to emphasize the nasty stench of people who didn't use Lifebuoy. This quickly became a stock sound effect for comedians, frequently heard on Spike Jones records from the era. It appears the young marrieds have greater problems to face than B.O. Notice how the groom is thinking the bride's thoughts in the last panel-does this mean he will be a domineering hubby? Perhaps the marriage will roll along in a stereotypical fashion for the era, with a few affairs in the mid-1950s chalked up to midlife crisis. In 1967, tiring of have all her thoughts devised by someone else, she spends an afternoon experimenting with the drugs her children have hidden in their luggage wh...