In my day, holiday commercials were calledthe Sears Christmas Wishbook. Boy, these pictures (from 1979) sure bring back memories of pouring over that book as soon as it arrived each fall, carefully noting things I wanted "Santa" to bring me. (I'd learned the Santa = Mom & Dad thing when I was 5.) My brother and I wrote very specific, very detailed letters to the jolly old elf, complete with page and item numbers and prices.

We were so Santa-savvy it hurt.

So, 1979. My bro got the Millenium Falcon that year, I believe, and possibly Iwo Jima, although that may have been later. I got a microscope and spent the next few months peering at tiny things under its lenses . . . Until I got bored and wanted to play with the little green "army guys" instead.

We asked for so much more, though. Probably just as well we didn't get it all, though I seem to remember this football game. The "field" vibrated and sent the plastic team rambling around, hopefully toward the other player's goal posts. Maybe one of our friends had it.

When I was young, my folks were notoriously against toys that talked or that made any movements on their own. They loosened up as we got older; we even had an Atari, though not till much later, and I think my brother bought it on his own, in fact. These days, though, it's hard to find the non-talking, non-moving-without-human-assistance toys. Oh, wait, yeah . . . we now call 'em quaint antiques.

Or maybe books.

Via BoingBoing