Step Right Up

I find reincarnation a fascinating subject. While not convinced that I have had past lives, certain intriguing possibilities exist. One is a snake oil salesman traveling the west in the 19th century. The showmanship, magniloquence and larceny involved appeal to me.


History lumps all of these itinerant "doctors" as snake oil salesmen, but during their time, there was a difference. Many ersatz entrepreneurs sold patent medicines. An interesting name because, except for Fletcher's Castoria, none ever received patents; they were trademarked. Patents required ingredient disclosure, and we couldn't have that. Snake Oil was another matter.

The construction of the transcontinental railroad brought an influx of Chinese workers to the west coast. The arduous toil caused sore muscles. These laborers sought a traditional liniment, the oil from the Chinese water snake. Both racism and unwanted competition created animosity. The patent medicine hawkers used the term "snake oil salesmen" as a derogatory term for those who sold the oil to the Yellow Peril.

With improved education, more savvy consumers and governmental watchdogs, modern Americans cannot fall prey to such tomfoolery. Who am I kidding? Infomercials, on-line offers and direct-response TV have replaced the vagabond medicine show and its horse-drawn wagon. But the spurious offers of amazing results from unregulated potions and testimonials from grateful shills, remain same as it ever was. Herbal supplements, vitamins, male enhancements and all natural extracts have replaced nostrums like Dr. Kilmer's Swamp Root and Luciana Cordial.

In my mind, one essential element is missing - panache! Despite the slick production values and fast talking pitchmen that flood the airways, showmanship has vanished. The convenience of sitting in your house while wares are hawked pales to the performances of the past.

Imagine having your dusty, drab, day-to-day routine interrupted as a clapboard wagon creaks down Main Street. An impromptu stage is erected. A slick, honey throated man in a frock coat and top hat splinters the morning with oratory. After a few jokes, he introduces a three piece band, and music fills the air. Then the exotic, sultry, Fatima dances the hoochie-coochie. Women blush and try to shield the young ones' eyes. Men abashedly stare at her erotic gyrations. As the crowd reaches critical mass, the barker begins his spiel.

That was entertainment. His nostrums might not have lived up to the lofty tales he wove, but they were not without benefits. The major ingredient was alcohol usually mixed with opium or cocaine. While dangerous and temporary, they did provide a respite from your aches and pains.

"Step right up and take advantage of this rare, wonderful elixir I have brought to you today. Away with aches, prevent pain, banish baleful boils. One spoonful of Dr. Bill's Antediluvian Antidote for All Ailments is the answer for everyday pain and woe."

 Something tells me that occupation fits my personality and talents. As ever - BB

"He's a young faith healer; he's a woman stealer/He will cure by his command/When the music's hot you might have to stand/To hear the Klondike Klu Klux steamboat band/Don't you sweat it; you can't forget it/ W.S. Walcott Medicine Show" - The Band