Grandma’s Catalog

 Grandma’s Catalog: Amazon Before Algorithms

Previously printed in 2013; updated for republication 

First, before we dive into this older column, does anyone even get catalogs anymore?

Do our children even know what catalogs are? Printed Amazon pages?

So much of my younger self looked forward to the arrival of the JCPenney and Sears catalogs. I never stopped to think about how hard those things must have been on the mail carrier. I can’t imagine how he handled phone-book deliveries!

That’s another thing our young’uns don’t know anything about.

But there was one particular kind of catalog I used to receive randomly: the catalog geared toward old people. Maybe it is suitable for me now, but 20 or 30 years ago, I was a tad bit offended.

I called it Grandma’s Catalog.

The merchandise displayed page after page consisted mainly of things an elderly person might purchase—or already own—like girdles, hearing aids and liniments.

Catalogs such as Harriet Carter, Walter Drake and Miles Kimball. Who were these people?

The one I used for the original column was Dr. Leonard’s, a healthcare catalog. The Doc’s stuff can now be found online. I looked and found an inviting pair of foldable reading glasses—but I also saw, and cannot unsee, a product called the toilet-tissue aid!

Do I dare ask?

Is this my future? Am I sliding down the other side of the hill?

Grandma’s catalog via snail mail has become Grandma’s Amazon via algorithms.

Those glossy catalogs always specialized in undergarments, especially body-shaping girdles designed to squeeze in what doughnuts had spread out. They carried serious full-figure bras that fastened with dozens of reinforced hooks. One eye-catching box announced that the bras came in sizes up to 56DDD—or even X.

They go up to X?

That’s not a bra. That’s structural engineering.

At first glance, many of the items appeared to be about comfort, shoes that weren’t especially fashionable but could probably carry you a few extra miles. A fleece cover for your recliner could be useful, too.

Then there were the less comfortable items, such as the urine-stain remover that promised to eliminate both new and old stains from almost any surface.

Let’s assume it was for pets.

The catalog was also where you could find electronics that had disappeared from regular stores, including a record player that played your favorite 33⅓, 45 and 78 RPM records—or “albums,” as we called them. At least those made a comeback!

Grandma’s Catalog also offered miracle products for anyone worried about aging. One advertised an instant facelift that could make you look years younger in minutes—no surgery, injections or painful procedures required.

Is it really a good idea to sell plastic surgery in a jar from a catalog?

Back then, I laughed. Now I’m wondering whether they offer free shipping.

On page 22, another ad claimed you could replace missing hair in 30 seconds simply by shaking tiny fibers over your thinning spots. On the very same page was a pill promising to clean out your colon. Across from that, you could find surgical-steel scissors specially designed to cut the toughest toenails.

I still can’t get those visuals out of my head.

Another page revealed toilet-seat risers for those days when rising from the throne is a skill you have misplaced. No worries—this handy item keeps you two inches higher and away from the fray.

The Wart, Mole and Liver Spot Cream might attract younger buyers if they marketed it differently—perhaps by not mentioning warts, moles or liver spots in the name.

Near the end of the catalog was an “adult” section—and I mean adult. Triple-X adult.

While checking the website for research, I saw tools listed in that same category, so now my algorithms are completely messed up. That Dr. Leonard must be popular with the ‘ladies’ and by ladies I mean grannies!

“For mature audiences” had been the theme throughout the publication, but these products promised to enhance, enlarge and perform other services I cannot mention in polite conversation.

Yes, those items were in Grandma’s Catalog. Who knew what Grannies were up to!

The adult section even advertised videos that could instruct—or perhaps remind—older folks about certain intimate activities. But never fear turn one page and you were right back to redemption with an easy-to-read, large-print King James Bible. As my grandmother believed, that King James wrote the Bible and these new fangled ones are just wrong.

Then you turned the page again and found a nude-aerobics video.

That catalog could take you from prayer meeting to needing a prayer meeting in three-page turn.

Senior citizens certainly had plenty of helpful aids: attachments for canes so they could walk through snow and ice, denture-repair kits, incontinence systems and a nice basket for the walker.

These were things I never knew existed, all brought conveniently to your doorstep. Today, Grandpa just needs to know how to work a computer so he can order Grandma one of those dandy “tools” for the unmentionables.

Since the catalogs had so many solutions for senior citizens, I decided they needed a few products for the problems younger folks face:

The Porcelain Peacekeeper™: A hydraulic toilet-seat system that automatically lowers the seat whenever it has been left up by the special man—or sons—in your life. Saving marriages one toilet seat at a time!

The Laundry-Retrieval Claw™: Picks up teenagers’ clothing that they apparently cannot see with the naked eye.

The Bunions & Bows Collection™: Dr. Scholl’s-level padding and support disguised as a cute shoe with a heel. Because we want comfort—but not at the price of looking comfortable.

The Teenager Ejector Bed™: Rises automatically after the fourth ignored alarm and gently deposits the child onto the floor.

The Teen Taser—Zero Volts Edition™: It doesn’t actually shock them, but they don’t have to know that. A Hubby Edition is also available, because four hits on the snooze button are three too many.

There was a time when all those catalog products seemed ridiculous and far out of reach to my young, cool self. But now my body keeps asking like a child in the back seat:

“Are we there yet? Are we there yet?”

Some days, I’m not sure.

But when it comes to a few of those products—I am there.

At least I’m not a grandma…yet!