Pabst Blue Ribbon - Missing pieces.

In 1943, men were overseas at war, and so women were taking over their former jobs back home - typically in factories and things. Pabst didn't want any ladies to forget to make time for the shopping for their beer. That's nice of them. Before Pabst was the preferred drink of ironic beardy hipsters on fixed gear bicycles, it was just a ho-hum beer with a reputation for being a little watery and feeble. Reviews seem to recommend it ice cold on a hot day, kind of like carbonated water that can eventually get you a little buzzed. That doesn't sound so bad. Apparently, in '43, it was a favorite of workin' Joes and Jos everywhere.

If you want to have people made of ribbons in your ad, prepare for a disturbing freak show. The only really recognizable part of a ribbon is the characteristic vee-cuts at the ends of the ribbons. So, off come the feet and hands, to make room for the weird ribbon limbs. The heads? Oh, those are still flesh and blood. So, what you get is, at best, people who look like they're wearing their daddy's pajamas, and at worst, a race of happy quadruple amputees. That ribbon lady is so dedicated to defeatinh Jerry that she still shows up to work, even after having all four limbs replaced with prosthetic ribbons. I certainly hope she wasn't drinking a crisp, refreshing Pabst on the job! They sure loved their rhyming advertising verse in them those days, didn't they? Here, let me help them move some product. You're welcome, PBR!

I'm working making tanks
and I don't wear a skirt, but paynts.

I'm allowed outside the home,

and I'm a lady! Who'd a-known?

For while I'm yankin' this handle,

nothing holds a candle

to Pabst, my favorite beverage

to forget my limbs' severage.

When you get to the bottom, there's the little promo for "Blue Ribbon Town", starring Groucho Marx. What'd that sound like? Like this. It was a variety show typical of the era. Nice safe jokes and sketches sprinkled with musical numbers. Stuff like this is good to listen to when you're trying to fall asleep. It drowns out the other stuff in your head without tugging at your attention too much.

But before you get to any of that, you have to get past the thing at the top of the page that makes you jump: the drawing of Joan Q. Everywoman, the "shopper of Blue Ribbon Town". Guess what's missing?

Correct! She has no eyelids! Uncle Sam needed them for the war effort. I don't know how she sleeps. I don't know how I'm going to sleep, either. Maybe by listening to some Blue Ribbon Town.

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