My Passion is the Past

My passion has always been the past, the "good ol' days"—and writing. Why not combine the two and monetize it? How? Well, I suspect there are many people, like me, who desire the same products they grew up with. Why, just the other day I ordered a 'Chutes and Ladders' game for my grandchild, and discovered I wasn't the only one looking for the original edition! And just the week before, a friend and I were sighing over the mousse hair product we were forced to purchase, lamenting: "Don't you wish we could find the good ol' 'Dippity-Do' we used to use? Recently a male friend was frustrated because he had a craving for the Root Beer Barrel candies he enjoyed as a child; but he couldn't find them anywhere. My idea is to create a website where people of all ages can share old memories and: "Do you remember?" moments. To monetize it, advertisers would target retro items brought to mind from the nostalgic postings; such as retro-series original edition games, beauty products, clothing, candy and food items, pet supplies—and more!

Orders would be fulfilled and direct-shipped from the manufacturers. Of course, in exchange for the product sales generated, I would negotiate a commision. So, I would make a profit, just for doing something I love!. On the website, I would have a link for ordering online. Whatever anybody posted would be matched to advertising for products. I would start it out by posting my own memories, then encourage followers to share their childhood memories, as well; whether it be stories, photos, songs, TV shows/movies, dances, school days, what we did on vacation and where we went on date nights, comic strips, etc.

Although anything nostalgic and retro would be welcomed (as long as it adhered to decency standards); my own writing style tends to be humorous, when relating chilhood accounts... Here is a sample of a childhood memory I would share. How to monetize it? For this particular story, for instance, Bazooka Bubble Gum could be advertised, for sure. But, why not go further, with ads for retro Dick & Jane books, little dog sweaters, ice packs for children, girls and boys clothing? There are so many possibilities for each posting on this type of social media ordering website. Give it a read and see the potential:

My Merry-go-round Fail

(aka The Day I Almost Met My Demise)

At recess, the boys thought it was great fun to twirl the girls faster and faster on the merry-go-round, as we held on for dear life. It was a boy's wildest dream to send a girl sailing through the air, to her demise... Of course, I was the only girl who ever forgot you should NEVER let go. I don’t 100% recall why I let go after the merry-go-round had gathered too much speed… Looking back, that was just craziness on my part!

I suspect what happened is that I was holding onto the tiny funny paper from the piece of Bazooka bubble gum I had just unwrapped, and the wind from the centrifugal force snatched it out of my hand. (I had just dared to learn what centrifugal force was, and now it was out for revenge.) I hadn’t finished reading that comic-strip yet (since those boys wouldn’t give a girl a moment) and I just had to find out what happened to Bazooka Joe. So, without thinking first (which was a bad habit of mine) I instinctively let go of the bar to reach out to grab it back from the wind, but all I captured was air.

In answer to the boys' prayers, I was catapulted about six feet, and got a bloody tongue from my crash landing. Can you believe that not one boy thanked me for making their dream come true? They all clamored around feigning concern, as the girls ran off to get the teacher who was monitoring recess. He sent me home; which was child neglect on his part, I thought, because living in town at the time, I had to walk.

It was such a nice day, that I darn near forgot about going home. "Was it my fault the route led right past the park?" I justified to myself. "Was it my fault there happened to be a lady walking her cute little Schnauzer there?" As I ran to pet her, at first the lady acted all concerned because I had blood on my dress; but after a minute or two, she kept looking at her watch—so I had to wind up my treacherous tale in a hurry. She patted me on the head, but withdrew her hand real quickly when I thought it was only my duty to let her know: "You shouldn't have cropped your little doggie's ears... How is the poor thing to keep the wind from blowing straight down into its eardrums now? Besides, they're cuter when they're all floppy-like. When you make their ears pointed, don't you think they look like Devil Dogs?" She cut me off, abruptly saying it was past time for me to be getting home. "Is it my fault I'm too weak to walk fast?" I thought to myself. But, I simply called after her, in a friendly manner: "So long, Devil Dog!" I could hear her heels going, "Clickety-clack, clickety-clack" as she practically pulled the Devil Dog along.

Skipping along, finally, I spied my street—my house was just around the corner. Suddenly, I felt so feeble I didn't think I could make it... Gasping, I finally staggered up our front lawn, and weakly called out to Mama from my blood-stained mouth, "Your half-dead child is home!" But did I get any sympathy? No. (Have I mentioned that children rarely got sympathy for foolish injuries, back in those days?) Mama just asked, all annoyed-like: “What are YOU doing home?” I related how I was sent to stagger home because her poor, injured child was lucky to be alive! Rather than the hug I deserved, all she said was, “Well, THAT’LL teach you! Now, go put some ice on it.” Then, she went back to her crocheting and watching her TV stories. (She was just at the part where the grains of the hourglass were about ready to fall, on "The Edge of Night".)

The gossip all around the school yard was that I had bitten my tongue clear off. The next day, every single kid I encountered, wanted me to open my mouth and show them. A line formed wherever I tried to go. How disappointed they all were that I still had a tongue! Some of them were quite angry at me for the let-down.

(After that incident, the lesson I took away from all of this was that children should NEVER EVER learn about centrifugal force. You DON'T want to mess with wicked forces like that, kids! It’s like playing with fire.) THE END

Hopefully, you get the idea... No matter what the nostalgic story, photo, or video, there would be some retro product you could advertise with an ordering link. In conclusion, I have had some past experience in subcontracting out orders before, whenever I have a customer from my desktop publishing business who asks me to provide an item for a product I don't normally carry. So, I don't think it would be too difficult or out-of-the-question to monetize my passion for the past with my passion for writing about nostalgia"Back In My Day"... There is a great demand for retro products!