10 Everyday Items invented in the 1920’s

Frozen Food

Clarence Birdseye worked as a fur trader in Canada. He saw that fish caught during the winter froze almost immediately after being pulled from the water. Birdseye soon realized that he could leave the fish frozen for up to a month while retaining the flavor. Read more

The Television

The television was invented in 1925 by John Logie Baird. The first experimental Television broadcast in the US. was in 1928. Read more

Black-and-white photographs Date: 1934 Topic: Television
Zworykin Kinescope, 1929

Traffic lights

The traffic light was invented by William Potts in 1920 as a way to direct traffic at 4 way stops. Read more

The Pop-up Toaster

Charles Perkins Strite invented the pop-up bread toaster in 1919, and received a patent for it on October 18, 1920.  Read more

Kool Aid

Edwin Perkins in Nebraska invented Kool Aid in 1927.
Read more

Cotton Swabs

The cotton swab was invented by Leo Gerstenzang in 1923. He sold
his invention under the name of “Baby Gays.” Read more

Bubble Gum

Walter E. Dieme invented bubble gum in 1928.  Read more

Penicillin

Alexander Fleming accidentally discovered penicillin in 1928.
Read more

Vitamin E

Herbert McLean Evans and Katherine Scott Bishop discovered Vitamin E
in 1922.  Read more

Sunglasses

Sam Foster invents sunglasses in 1920.  Read more

Now get your glad rags on and head over to Teagan’s Books for episode 4 Hullaba Lulu!

VR photograph of avatars waiting in a virtual train station to illustrate the story Hullaba Lulu by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene
Lulu, Gramps, Rose, and Valentino wait for the train

Is someone gonna be Left holding the bag?

Check it out.

I gotta go see a man about a dog


Graphics (c) Rob Goldstein 2018

“Nothin’s gonna be the same.”

At 8:45 AM I was in class to help my teacher get the classroom ready
for the day; I was seven and it was my turn to help with morning chores.

My teacher was in a dither because ‘colored kids’ were coming to school
that day.

Mrs. Sullivan furiously scrubbed the blackboard and muttered under her
breath about ‘niggers’.

I’d never seen any colored kids but heard lots of them lived in
Charleston.

Mrs. Sullivan and I opened the windows so we could clap chalk out the
erasers when through a haze of white dust we saw the first colored kids
arrive at my school.

I smiled and raised my hand to wave but Mrs. Sullivan grabbed my wrist.

Below us, a crowd of white parents formed a barricade with their
kids in front of the entrance; all of them had stones.

The black kids looked scared and paused on the playground, their
parents behind them.

A white man shouted, ‘Go home niggers!’

Then all the parents shouted and threw stones.

A big stone hit a little black girl in the face.

She fell backward and cried.

I felt sad.

I didn’t understand.

White folks said colored people liked their lives.

They said people get along best when they know
their place.

They said colored people want to know their place.

The little black girl’s mother scooped her up and carried her away.

Mrs. Sullivan had tears in her eyes so I asked her why and here is
what she said:

“Nothin’s gonna be the same.”

Rob Goldstein (C) 2018

Rob Goldstein (C) 2018

Oh, God

Oh, God. Let’s you
an’ me duke it out
mano a mano; or I
can just lose; whatever
 you want

(c) Rob Goldstein 2018

Bar Hopping On The Castro, June 10, 1993

The Castro has a fastidious beauty: flawless and surreal; I see
nothing of the joyful anarchy of gay liberation, or the horror of
young men covered in lesions.

New drugs and quicker testing have reduced some of the worst
symptoms of HIV, but the gay contingent of My Generation is
still dying in droves.

I check out a bar called ‘The Transfer’ and watch a bored
stoner fan dance to old disco and move on to a bar called
the ‘Badlands’.

The ‘Badlands’ is almost empty.

I order a beer and take a seat by the pool table to watch a
group of boys play.

They play badly and grin when they see me watching: the
handsome butch daddy with a mustache, a queen who can
play a mean game of pool.

I smile and raise my beer as an elderly drunk stumbles out
of the toilet and staggers toward the pool table.

He waves to the boys and plops himself in the seat next
to me.

“Drinkin a beer eh? Wannanother beer?” His breath stinks
of tobacco and stale beer.

I politely decline and the guy blows up; he wags his finger at
me and snaps loudly:

“Take a good look at me, Miss Thing! This is you in ten years!”

I find it noteworthy that he assumes I will still be alive.

In 1992, AIDS was he number one cause of death in the United States for
men aged 25-44.

(c) Rob Goldstein 1992-2018