Bradlees Bandit Reforms From Days of 'Mischief'

Since I've previously written about being such a "good" boy while going to C.C.D. in The Caldwells, I will now have to confess that I have sinned: For a brief time, I was a hardened criminal, sometimes with a hard pretzel.

I wasn't that bad of a kid. My errant behavior and so-called mispent youth was more the product of having a lot of energy (my new POLKA DOT! song "A Lotta Energy" is on iTunes now, by the way), creativity and a propensity for mischief. Isn't that nice?

What is mischief? Webster's and dictionary.com may have their own and universally acknowledged interpretations, but my personal definition is as follows: 

Mischief (noun): The juxtaposition of deadpan humorous, playful behavior against the staid fabric of normalcy, stretching it threadbare, to make it more tolerable and entertaining. 

If you see me in ShopRite or something, please—no need to reiterate my meaning out loud. 

Bradlees was sort of a playground for me and many kids in The Caldwells. It wasn't Cohen's, where your every footstep was monitored. It wasn't Mr. Cheese, where although the owner was cool, there was nowhere to roam in that little deli close to where the Hallmark store is near TJ Maxx. It was this big corporate joint, basically faceless. Except for "Mrs. B."

Mrs. Beautiful?

"Mrs. B" was Bradlees' human mascot of sorts and she was portrayed by an actress named Cynthia Harris. Remarkably, but maybe tellingly, there's not one single image of her on the Internet.

She was a plain Jane, jolly and obsessed with finding a bargain. She was in the store's television commercials and totally reigned as the store's matriarch of sorts. 

Mrs. B's presence was felt in Bradlees via giant, standing-on-their-short sides rectangular photos that were on metal stands situated around the store. You could really nail them if you weren't looking—you'd turn a corner and there she would be, a human head and metal felt in the middle of the walking aisle.

Sometimes, people would draw mustaches on Mrs. B. I'm not saying who.

Pretzel Punishment

So, the place was the Wild West and we kids actually congregated in the western part of it. You see, most of the department store was a no-boys land.

The linen and lady's clothing departments to the north and east didn't hold much appeal. The snack bar to the south at the front near the registers actually repelled us—it was there where the world's hardest pretzels were sold.

Called "hot, soft pretzels" without any irony, the things were hung on metal rods in an about 2-foot high glass case with a heating light bulb underneath.

Somehow, that was still enticing. But when you actually got your hands on one of these salted rocks that were served on pieces of wax paper, it was a colossal disappointment. We'd throw pieces of them at each other.

My friends and I had a well-worn "Bradlees path." We'd park our bikes at the left-most entrance (if you're looking at the store) and take a trail to the record and electronics department.

It was there where I spent my allowance on Kiss album after Kiss album, Atari cartridges and much more. Nearby was an extension of the store (even more to the west) that housed the toy and bike departments. 

You never really saw too many Bradlees workers around. When you did, they weren't hard to spot, as in the true style of retail yesteryear, they wore official Bradlees uniforms, including a company-issued vest. I recall one harried, exhausted-looking manager guy who was there all the time.

So again, it was like my buddies and I had the run of the place. That's when the mischief—and line-crossing and lesson-learning—would begin. 

Getting Jingly With It

It's just amazing how great commercial jingles were back in the day. In fact, I see some of the stuff my own runts watch now, and the commercials just don't have that same memorability factor.

I've written about the Huffy Bandit's commercial previously. The Nestea plunge, "catch that Pepsi spirit," the list goes on and on. They're in my head constantly.

Some great ones were done by the famous toy company Lakeside. They made many famous, innovative board games in the '60s, and later on as manufacturing costs fell, they also produced cool little fun toys that would catch on, burn brightly and disappear with their jingles outlasting them—at least in my head.

In 1980, they came out with "Zany Zappers." These were plastic sun glasses with blinking lights inside the lenses. In true primitive technology fashion, a wire ran down them, ending up at a compartment for a 9-volt battery, which of course, was "not included."

Side note: I had these, and they never seemed to work right. However, I did see them work in person—once—and it was while I was having a nervous breakdown.

In the summer of '79, we went on a day trip to Long Branch. The Haunted Mansion was still there and I wanted to go in. My father said he'd take me.

All the way though, my father teased me, scaring me more than the attraction. He pretended he was spooked or he would suddenly yell—it was terrible.

All the kids in West Caldwell my age were saying how much they loved this place, and I was in Hell.

At one point, a dark figure approached us from the opposite end of a dark hall. He stopped right in front of us. He was covered from head to toe by a dark cloak. Suddenly, his eyes flashed. The guy had on "Zany Zappers!"

Then in about 1981, there were "Pip Squirt Pens." They were actual writing pens that you could also fill with water (like two ounces). You would collapse the top of it onto the bottom, and voila, you had a type of water gun.

There were dozens of them sitting in Bradlees, with cool packaging. Some kind of flash went off in my brain while I was standing in the store one day: Why not just take one? So, I put one in my jacket and proceeded to walk to the exit. 

Done in By A Tan and Black Orb

When I turned a corner leaving the toy department, someone or something grabbed my arm. I turned around, with the slowest of motion. It was a firm, adult grip—it wasn't one of the Whitaker Boys. I soon enough saw what had attached itself to me—a security guy. 

This cat was out for blood. He held onto me with one hand like he had the arm of Lincoln, Kennedy or Lennon's shooter. With the other hand, he talked into his walkie-talkie, letting someone know that he had me.

His vise-like grip actually hurt—my father's going to kick his ass for this, I thought, and then he's gonna kick mine.

The man led me into a small back room, stuffing me into a chair. I was facing a wall with about six black-and-white monitors.

They were the cameras! I realized, too late. 

Bradlees had a half-dozen or so, all-too-obvious giant balls hanging from the ceilings with cameras in them. In my haste to grab a Pip Squirt Pen, I failed to noticed one was spinning around to watch me try to steal it.

This reject from "CHiPs" played the actual tape of me committing the act. It was pretty heavy. Then, he asked me for my phone number, so he could call my father to pick me up.

My father showed up, thanked the guys, and pulled me out of the room, but not before I was told I was "not allowed in Bradlees for life" by the wanna-be cop guy.

At home, I was punished for one month. I played the "that guy was rough with me" card and I think it helped win a lighter sentence. 

That was the exact end of my shoplifting career.

Related Links:

• Here's the "Zany Zappers" TV ad. It appears 38 seconds into the clip. Tell me you don't want a pair.
• Pip-Squirt Pens commercial. It occurs (and in good quality) at the 1:45 mark. Note how the kids are never shown shooting each other in the face. Aren't they so cool that you could be driven to steal one? This writer was once. Anyone have one to sell me?