Coin-Op Dreams

I need to ask (beg) a favor from some of the older folks out there.

I woke up this morning with vague sense of having dreamt about coin-op vending machines (of all things).  I'm fairly certain that the germ of the dream was planted by Elisson who wrote a great post about a very specific vending machine memory of his own.  But my recollection/dream seems to have been much more general than his.

I remember dreaming about going to the Horn & Hardart Automat with my Grandma Fay (A"H), where with a couple of coins we could open any of the gleaming chrome and glass doors and free the sandwiches and slices of pie from their little see-though compartments.  To this day I've never tasted macaroni & cheese that comes even close to what I ate at the Automat!

I also dreamt about the vending machines that used to be bolted to the upright I-beam supports on many of the NYC Subway platforms which dispensed those little boxes of gum (I don't remember the brand, but each tiny box contained two pieces of Chiclets-type gum).  This was back in the days when NYC Subway platforms seemed to be paved entirely in discarded chewing gum. [shudder]

But the part of the dream that has been bothering me since I woke up is yet another vending machine memory dredged up from my murky past.  This last part of the dream was about 'rest-stop vending machines'.  I don't know how to describe them any better than that. 

Before highway rest-stops started putting in video arcades and a gazillion different types of electronic beverage / snack machines to shake travelers down for their last bit of pocket change, there was something else... something far simpler and much more innocent.

Just about anywhere you were likely to stop back when I was a kid, there were these neat little vending machines strategically located just inside the entrance to the rest-stop bathrooms... and they contained everything from pocket combs to toenail clippers to small novelty items.  These novelty items are what always grabbed my attention... and what I used to beg my father to buy me. 

However, I can't for the life of me remember what these novelty items were! 

Before any wits decide to make a funny guess... let me say for the record, 'no, they weren't condoms!'  (although some day I'll share a funny story about the first time I saw a condom machine in a public bathroom and didn't know what it was). 

Anyway, back to this rest stop vending machine whose contents I can't remember.

I have a vague sense that there might have been some kind of magic tricks in there... but I just can't get my mind's eye to focus properly.  All I can recall is that vending machine standing there... containing a few things that I couldn't possible live without.

So why can't I pull up that memory?  Maybe it's been over-written by having to conjugate a few too many past- and future-tense irregular feminine verbs in Hebrew.  :-)

So... did you and your family travel the American roads before the age of Pizza Hut, Taco Bell and Burger king?  My family's idea of a vacation involved piling into the car and driving for days... and sometimes weeks, to arrive at some exciting destination.  We made a science of touring via family campgrounds, and cris-crossed the continent twice while I was growing up.  We even made it up to Canada a few times!

Therefor... the people who are most likely to be able to help me dredge up this missing memory are those who took these same kinds of trips back in the 60's and 70's. 

If you have any recollection of what the hell I might have found so fascinating in those damned vending machines, please let me know!

Anyone?