J is for…

James Bond Digital Alarm Watches

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From the KP Snaps Swimming Bag to the ‘Roller Radio’ (whatever that was exactly), promotional giveaways involving the accruement of a specified quantity of empty crips packets were a proto-recycling regular occurrence in the early eighties. Thus it was that in 1983, Smiths Crisps attempted to surf a wave of James Bond hysteria in the wake of the release of Octopussy by giving away cheap flimsy digital watches with two important differences – that familiar ’007′ logo rendered in a sort of crumbly off-yellow hue, and the ability to ‘beep’ a flat, tuneless, unrecognisable and (thanks to cost-cutting technology) virtually unstoppable rendition of the John Barry/Monty Norman/Delete Where Legally Acceptable franchise signature tune at a digitally predetermined time, only with an additional extraneous non-canon ‘beep’ at the end for no readily obvious reason. And surf that wave they certainly did – for a couple of months, playgrounds were uttertly swamped with youngsters proudly toting their Roger Moore-slanted time-telling acquisitions, leading to a teacher-infuriating cacophony of twenty three slightly-out-of-sync watch-generated Bond Themes sounding whenever the end of a lesson approached. Mercifully, so carefully tailored to the film’s theatrical lifespan were they that within a short while, failing components reduced the once-proud guitar-aping fanfare to a sort of dejected buzz, and the watches were ditched even faster than George Lazenby.

TV CREAM SAYS: BEEP BEEPBEEPBEEP BEEP BEEPBEEP...

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Jay, Ricky

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That's our starter!A loudmouth American card sharp, Ricky Jay was all over TV in the 1980s as a speciality act, or ‘bloke who can do one really stupid thing really well’ to use the layman’s term. Jay would turn up and, with much sweaty decibel-rich verbosity, set up a bisected watermelon  on one side of the stage, walk over to the other and flick playing cards into it with lethal speed and pinpoint accuracy. But wait! There’s more! He’d then turn the melon round, and do the same to what he termed ‘the outer, pachydermitous hide’ of the melon. But Jay’s turn was culturally significant for reasons independent of the high-speed laminated-paper/cantaloupe interface. Before you could say ‘yes, very good, but is that it?’ Jay pretty much admitted, in the same voluminously baroque West Coast showman’s verbiage, that yes, it is a bit of a daft way to make a living, what am I doing with my life, etc. Thus postmodernist self-deprecation was introduced to the variety stage, almost without anyone noticing. Within a decade or two, there’d be no other way to act…

TV CREAM SAYS: IT WAS THE WAY HE TOLD THEM

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Jumper, Bored-Looking Men Standing About in the Front Room With Loads of Bits of Pattern Paper Pinned to Them by Their Wife Who’s Knitting Them a

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A staple of agreeable domestic sitcoms of a certain vintage. Hubby often balding, slightly droopy of jowl; wife big on hairspray, frowning, and mumbling cross yet unintelligible instructions through a mouthful of pins.

TV CREAM SAYS: A GLORIOUS TRADITION KILLED OFF BY PRIMARK. FOR SHAME!

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