Monday, February 28, 2011

Rockets and Unflattering Pics, oh my


At the flea market, I bought two items: 1950s rocket banks.

The one that first caught my eye, high on a shelf, and I had to ask what the heck it was:

Next to my Bose for size comparison. It's fucking heavy. Aaaand peeps who have known me longer than I have had this blog will know why it caught my attention. Ahem.

Second bank, and way cooler one! After I asked about the first one, the guy told me rocket banks came in several styles, and he had another one:

Strato banks were given away when you opened a bank account in the 1950s. They were mostly made here in the Detroit area, a factory in Hamtramck, but got shipped all over. How they work: it's easier to see on the second one, as you can see the red trigger and the slot. You pull the trigger to the back of the rocket, place your coin flat on the tip of the rocket, and hit the little button there at the back. BINGO! It shoots in. Works every time, dime to quarter. For the stand-up bank, it works the same way, but the slot is beneath the, ehm, head.

I'm fairly obsessed with all things space, so you can imagine the drooling and jumping around that commenced once I had these in my possession. And the pinging that is going on as I shoot coins into the moon.

Other favorite space things: Space Mountain at Disneyworld (every time, no exception, I imagine I am walking up there on a gangplank through a ship, about to disembark on a trip through space), Astronomy Picture of the Day (see links at side list), Asimov's robot novels, and Blade Runner (it counts!). And also, Asuqi, who many of you probably do not realize is actually an android, who has escaped here from the future. True story.

This is not Asuqi. It's me. How many people are unwilling to post unflattering pics of themselves? LOL! I am! I was at one of the magnetic poetry boards when B came along with the camera: "What are you writing? Is it a poem? Is it about me? Is it a poem about me? 'We made bells from manacles' -- Is that about what we did last night? What's it mean?" This is my, "B, go away. Now," face. From a terrible angle.

So there you go! Have a spacey day, look out for the galactic dinosaurs, and write a space opera for me. :)


  1. Aw! I think that's a cute picture! You have such an innocent, child-like expression. Ha!

    I hope that you don't keep that first rocket ship on your nightstand. #14 might get jealous.

  2. Ah, yes. I see the attraction of the phallic rocket. Also imagine the other one providing hours of coin-shooting fun, but it seems the big ball might get so heavy with coinage that it would snap right off that plastic base. Perhaps things were better made in the 50s. Who am I kidding. Of course they were.

  3. I love that picture! You're so cute!!!! :D

    Nice "rocket" bank. Teehee!

  4. You just made my smile go all around my head =) (And then the top fell off and my brain sort of oozed out... Nah, maybe that didn´t really happen...)

    Highly fabulicious stuff! I´d have sex with space-stuff anytime ;)

    I can just see you; throwing your coins, smiling insanely...

    The picture is actually very pretty! You´re just to used to your gorgeous eyes to appreciate them. I love the anger aimed at poor eager puppy B -- LOL! And, hm, what were you kids up to last night, I wonder...

    Darling, I didn´t escape, I´m here on a mission!

    Kramar from your very own android

  5. Mimi, no room on the nightstand. What with #14, bottles of lube, and the assortment of butt plugs.

    Rosa--They're cast iron! And heavy as fuck. No danger of them falling apart.

    Hi, Sara!

    A--Ah, I see this android now. Kind of like The Little Prince's planet. I'm sure you've got your own rose in a glass jar. Or the head of a unicorn. Ah, good times.