The history, appeal and types of Cracker Jack prizes are examined from the early part of the twentieth century through the 1980s

Prize toys found in the Cracker Jack candy box from the late 19th century to the 1990s are shown and identified. Over 290 color photos depict the front and back of many prizes and aid in identifying individual toys and sets of prizes. The categories of prizes assist in easy cataloging.

"Dean Young challenges the reader to hang on as he jigs from one poetic style to another and sets a wondrous course across a Duchampian landscape."—Chicago Tribune "In Young's work, the big essential questions—mortality, identity, the meaning of life—aren't simply food for thought; they're grounds for entertainment."—The Sunday Star (Toronto) Dean Young escorts his transplanted heart into invigorating poetic territory that combines the joy of being alive with his signature mixture of surrealism, humor, and fast-cut imagery. A Pulitzer finalist known for his hard-won insights, NPR said it best when they observed that Young sees "even in the smallest things the heights of what we can be." From "Harvest": Bring me the high heart of a trapezist. If not, bring me the heart of a drunk monk so I may illuminate an ancient text in a language I can't understand. The brain too is blood, blood racing 100 miles an hour on training wheels so let me splash through a red puddle, let me kiss the face of a red puddle, let me write my crazed, extreme demands on the frost-cracked window of god's split chest… Dean Young is the author of twelve books of poetry, including finalists for the Pulitzer Prize and Griffin Award. He teaches at the University of Texas and lives in Austin.

This is a book about one of the great untold stories of modern cultural life: the remarkable ascendancy of prizes in literature and the arts. Such prizes and the competitions they crown are almost as old as the arts themselves, but their number and power--and their consequences for society and culture at large--have expanded to an unprecedented degree in our day. In a wide-ranging overview of this phenomenon, James F. English documents the dramatic rise of the awards industry and its complex role within what he describes as an economy of cultural prestige. Observing that cultural prizes in their modern form originate at the turn of the twentieth century with the institutional convergence of art and competitive spectator sports, English argues that they have in recent decades undergone an important shift--a more genuine and far-reaching globalization than what has occurred in the economy of material goods. Focusing on the cultural prize in its contemporary form, his book addresses itself broadly to the economic dimensions of culture, to the rules or logic of exchange in the market for what has come to be called "cultural capital." In the wild proliferation of prizes, English finds a key to transformations in the cultural field as a whole. And in the specific workings of prizes, their elaborate mechanics of nomination and election, presentation and acceptance, sponsorship, publicity, and scandal, he uncovers evidence of the new arrangements and relationships that have refigured that field.

Featuring over 1000 colour photographs, this expansive guide to Cracker Jack covers all manner of company collectibles from advertising copy, books, catalogues, and crates to packages, premiums, photographs, and sales stimulators. The items detailed in this thorough work span the twentieth century from c. 1910 up through 1998. Values for the items shown are provided. Only the toys retrieved directly from Cracker Jack boxes are excluded here, covered by the author in a separate volume. As if this were not enough, other product lines produced by F W Rueckheim and The Cracker Jack Company are also displayed and discussed, along with the candy-coated popcorn and peanut confections created by early competitors. Everyone who has ever opened a box of Cracker Jack will find something of interest inside this Cracker Jack of a book!

Beginner projects: fairy garden, never too many, waterfall, vintage, bold and beautiful, Paris, southwest, trinkets, faces, rocker chic, outrageous, flower power, pennies from heaven, Intermediate projects: mementos, eclectic, springtime, fiesta, grammy's baubles, olde world, divine, sunset, whirlpool, talisman, droplets, waves, flight of fancy, heart to heart, yee haw, forever yours, true love, city nights, woodland, northern lights, talking leaves, orient express.

Crap. We all have it. Filling drawers. Overflowing bins and baskets. Proudly displayed or stuffed in boxes in basements and garages. Big and small. Metal, fabric, and a whole lot of plastic. So much crap. Abundant cheap stuff is about as American as it gets. And it turns out these seemingly unimportant consumer goods offer unique insights into ourselves—our values and our desires. In Crap: A History of Cheap Stuff in America, Wendy A. Woloson takes seriously the history of objects that are often cynically-made and easy to dismiss: things not made to last; things we don't really need; things we often don't even really want. Woloson does not mock these ordinary, everyday possessions but seeks to understand them as a way to understand aspects of ourselves, socially, culturally, and economically: Why do we—as individuals and as a culture—possess these things? Where do they come from? Why do we want them? And what is the true cost of owning them? Woloson tells the history of crap from the late eighteenth century up through today, exploring its many categories: gadgets, knickknacks, novelty goods, mass-produced collectibles, giftware, variety store merchandise. As Woloson shows, not all crap is crappy in the same way—bric-a-brac is crappy in a different way from, say, advertising giveaways, which are differently crappy from commemorative plates. Taking on the full brilliant and depressing array of crappy material goods, the book explores the overlooked corners of the American market and mindset, revealing the complexity of our relationship with commodity culture over time. By studying crap rather than finely made material objects, Woloson shows us a new way to truly understand ourselves, our national character, and our collective psyche. For all its problems, and despite its disposability, our crap is us.