“I am Robert Robot, mechanical man. Drive me and steer me wherever you can:” A little technological jewel dating from the dark days of the Cold War, Robert the Robot, part 2
Greetings, my reading friend, and welcome. You will of course have read the first part of this fascinating story – and memorised it. Let us now proceed with part 2 of that look at the story of Robert the Robot, a toy developed by the American toy making firm Ideal Toy Corporation.
Shown in numerous North American newspapers in the fall of 1954, Robert the Robot saw its fortune boosted when it appeared in New York City, New York, in October 1954, in the company of Tobor, the robotic protagonist of the American 1954 science fiction movie Tobor the Great. The human being inside that human-sized robot was presumably the American actor who had played it in the movie, namely Jacob Lewis “Lew” Smith, Junior.
Indeed, Robert’s stroll with Tobor was the occasion through which the former made its appearance in Canadian newspapers, in provinces like Alberta, Ontario, Québec and Saskatchewan.
Mind you, Tobor and Robert the Robot were also photographed in the company of the American child actor William McClellan “Billy” Chapin, one of the main protagonists in Tobor the Great.
Conscious of the need to keep Robert the Robot in the mind of the public, especially children, Ideal Toy and countless toy stores copiously advertised that small toy. Inserting it in the Sears 1954 Christmas Book, published by Sears, Roebuck & Company was a brilliant idea. Mind you, again, Robert the Robot could also be found in the 1955 and 1956 editions of that catalog, and quite possibly in later ones as well.
Robert the Robot was also one of the 100+ American toys highlighted in a November 1954 issue of the very popular and successful weekly American magazine Life. And yes, it was the only robot in the set. Toy revolvers aimed at future defenders of freedom and dolls aimed at future spouses of said defenders were rather more numerous.
Incidentally, yours truly identified among those 100+ toys something I had played with in the mid 1960s, namely Halsam Products Company’s American Plastic Bricks – or a Canadian-made or packaged version thereof. Those flexible red bricks were packaged in a thick carboard tube with a metal bottom and a removable metal cover.
The Canadian-made version I got as a present was probably made by Reliable Toy Company Limited of Toronto, Ontario, under the name Easylock Bricks. And yes, that firm was the subject of an article uploaded in December 2021.
And yes, I remember longingly poring through various mid 1960s editions of the Catalogue de Noël put out by T. Eaton Company Limited, of Toronto, I think, a firm mentioned in several / many issues of our astonishing blog / bulletin / thingee, and this since January 2019. Or did I pore through catalogues issued by Simpsons-Sears Limited of Toronto, a joint venture between a Canadian department store chain, Robert Simpson Company Limited of Toronto and an American department store chain, Sears, Roebuck and Company?
Anyway, I remember longingly poring through various mid 1960s editions of Christmas catalogues. Yes, yes, longingly. You see, the miserly salaries meted out by Dominion Textile Incorporated of Montréal, Québec, to the employees of its textile mill in Sherbrooke, Québec, did not allow for much in the way of frivolities.
Oh, before I forget, Dominion Textile was mentioned in several issues of our you know what, and this since August 2018, but I digress.
Incidentally, Robert the Robot was involved in a tempest in a teapot in July 1955. You see, President Dwight David “Ike” Eisenhower had the audacity to buy a miniature Alpine horn, three dolls and a model airplane for his grandchildren in a well known toy store in Genève / Geneva, Switzerland, when he attended a high-level meeting in that charming city.
Even though the opinions of the quartet of major powers present (United States, Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, United Kingdom and… France) diverged diametrically, the Geneva Summit of July 1955 nonetheless ended with a note of optimism, by the way, but I digress.
The president of the National Doll Manufacturers Association stated in a press release that his industry had been shocked by Eisenhower’s action. David Rosenstein indicated that he would send him some 100% American toys as gifts and reminders. Four of those, and the only ones mentioned in newspapers, were products of Ideal Toy. And yes, Robert the Robot was one of them. The other three were dolls. And yes again, Rosenstein was the President of… Ideal Toy.
Several members of the National Doll Manufacturers Association quickly complained about Rosenstein’s complaint, as did numerous ordinary Americans. Mind you, those members of the National Doll Manufacturers Association might also have been annoyed by the free publicity given to Ideal Toy.
In any event, Rosenstein quickly sent an apology to Eisenhower, a gentleman mentioned in many issues of our you know what since March 2018, stating that an overzealous press agent had issued the release without his knowledge. Indeed, he himself had bought dolls at the store the President had visited, but back to Robert.
The versions of Robert the Robot produced in 1955 and 1956 were somewhat simpler, cheaper and easier to produce than the original, 1954 version. The arms of the third version were no longer linked to the driving wheels for example and the eyes and antenna no longer lit up. The opening where the tool kit was also gone, as was the took kit.
Would you believe that Ideal Toy commercialised a derivative of its toy robot around 1955? That simplified and smaller version of Robert the Robot sat on the driver’s seat of a crawler tractor made of plastic. It was apparently removable from that position. The small robot had a battery-powered light on top of its head and its arms moved when the crawler tractor moved, and…
You have a question, my reading friend? Why use the expression crawler tractor when the word bulldozer would do just as well, you ask? A good question. You see, technically, a bulldozer is a scraper blade attached to a crawler tractor. May we continue now?
To see said crawler tractor move forward, one had to turn a crank on a pistol-like controller. That rotating movement was transmitted to a flex cable which linked the controller to the tracks of the crawler tractor. Reversing the rotation of the crank made the toy move backward. Pressing on the trigger of the controller sent the 25 or so centimetre (10 or so inches) long vehicle where its young operator wanted to have her or his next adventure.
That toy also sold for about US $ 6, a sum which corresponds to about $ 89 in 2024 Canadian currency.
Incidentally, the way many if not most Americans looked at crawler tractors in 1955 could not be more different from the way many if not most of them look at them now. You see, crawler tractors played an important role in achieving victory during the Second World War. Once that victory was achieved, it was thought that these vehicles would play an important role in rebuilding the United States, especially its cities and road network.
Would you believe that a few children’s books sang the praise of the crawler tractor? Books like Edith Thacher Hurd’s Benny the Bulldozer (1947), Catherine Danner’s Buster Bulldozer (1952) and James Browning’s The Busy Bulldozer (1952).
As was to be expected, the reality was not as joyful as the illustrations in the books. The sad truth was that close to 6 million housing units were bulldozed in the United States between 1950 and 1970. A disproportionate percentage of those units were the humble abodes of non white renters, people who had no say in what was being done to them, people whose lives and neighbourhoods were simply torn apart.
North of the Canada-United States border, entire neighbourhoods of Montréal and Toronto were similarly wiped off the map during the 1960s. A disproportionate percentage of those neighbourhoods harboured the humble abodes of poor families, people who had no say in what was being done to them, people whose lives and neighbourhoods were simply torn apart.
In both Canada and the Unites States, the opposition to sweeping urban renewal plans gradually gained grounds and the wanton destruction of entire neighbourhoods was gradually brought under control. By then, the crawler tractor was no longer seen as a heroic figure. Far from it, but back to Robert.
Even though reliable sales figures remained elusive, Robert the Robot might have been Ideal Toy’s best seller around 1954-56.
Indeed, it proved so successful that Ideal Toy signed tie-in deals with American firms which produced Robert Robot t-shirts, sweatshirts, scarves, pyjamas, flashlights, balloons, etc. – a dozen or so derived products in all.
The sales promotion manager of the firm, Melvin Norman “Mel” Poretz, claimed that the production of such derived products for a toy rather than a real individual like the American singer / rodeo performer / actor Roy Rogers, born Leonard Franklin Slye, or a fictitious one, like the cowboy Hopalong Cassidy, was a first in the toy industry.
As one might have expected, the commercial success of Robert the Robot led to the development of similar toy robots by other American toy manufacturers.
Louis Marx & Company Incorporated, a more important American toy maker, for example, introduced its plastic and battery-powered Electric Robot in 1955. Unwilling to sell its creation for more moolah than Robert the Robot, in other words no more than about US $ 6, a sum which still corresponds to about $ 94 in 2024 Canadian currency, Louis Marx & Company had to leave out the record player.
Even so, there were some, if not many who deemed Electric Robot superior to Robert the Robot because it was battery-powered and moved without any of the jerkiness associated with the movements of its Ideal Toy competitor.
Better yet, or worse still, depending on your point of reference, Electric Robot was packed with features, including a button on which a child could tap messages in Morse code. .-- .- .... -.-.--
Before long, Electric Robot was followed by its Electric Robot and Son, a pair of toy robots.
Robert the Robot’s commercial success also led to the development of similar toys by Japanese firms. Taiyō Kōgyō Kabushiki Kaisha, for example, introduced a battery-operated robot around 1955. That tinplate toy was in all likelihood been designed specifically for export.
As tempting as it would be to cogitate that our toy had inspired it, the song Robert the Robot, composed in 1956, I think, by Australian pianist / lyricist / music director / composer Charles Zwar for the American revue Sticks and Stones, probably had nothing to do with Ideal Toy’s creation. After all, the song told the slightly naughty story of a lady who had an affair with a robot named Robert. Said song was interpreted by a famous English actress (movie, stage and television), Hermione Ferdinanda Gingold.
Two songs which were definitely connected with our toy robot came out in time for the 1956 Christmas season, however. Robert the Robot and Robert the Robot Saves the Day, sung by the Tinkertones, were part of the Cricket Toy Tunes Series launched by a pretty well known record label aimed at children, namely Cricket Records. You see, Ideal Toy was one of the firms with which the American record firm Pickwick Sales Corporation had signed tie-in deals.
Another Ideal Toy product with a song in the Cricket Toy Tunes Series was Betsy Wetsy, a very popular doll which, err, went peepee after drinking some water. The song Betsy Wetsy was one of the two pieces found on a record entitles My Doll Family. The second song, Patti Prays, was about an Ideal Toy doll named… Patti Prays, and you know what it did, do you not, my reading friend? Yes, yes, it prayed, but I digress.
Before I forget, Betsy Wetsy could also shed tears. You could even blow her nose. I kid you not.
A subversive thought if I may. What exactly was the difference between dolls like Betsy Wetsy and Patti Prays and toy robots like our friend Robert? Indeed, what was / is the difference between a doll and an action figure, an expression coined in 1964 by a well known American toy manufacturing firm, Hassenfeld Brothers Incorporated, to market its G.I. Joe doll, sorry, sorry, action figure.
Would you believe that at least one of the countless Robert the Robots made by Ideal Toy had a non speaking role in a 1956 American romantic and melodramatic motion picture, There’s Always Tomorrow? Why, you should.
The beloved American actor Frederick Martin “Fred” MacMurray played Clifford “Cliff” Groves, a toy manufacturer who felt unappreciated by his spouse and children. The American actress / dancer / model Barbara Stanwyck, born Ruby Catherine Stevens, played Norma Miller, a former employee of Groves who had become the charming divorced head of a fashion house. The two had not seen each other in years.
Groves fell in love with Miller, who had secretly loved him. In the end, a distraught Miller realised that any type of romance involving Groves was impossible. An equally distraught Groves watched the airliner she had boarded fly away. He returned to his family.
During one of the scenes, Miller briefly had in her hands one of the countless Robert the Robots made by Ideal Toy. Toward the end of the film, Groves bumped our robotic friend at it stood on a table. The robot toy then began to move toward the camera filming the scene. As that camera started tracking forward, its shadow fell across the toy robot as the latter gradually moved out of the shot.
A Star Trek digression for my good lady buddies of the museum world if I may. Before she became Barbara Stanwyck the actress, Stevens worked as a chorus girl and dance instructor in New York City nightclubs owned by a larger than life American actress / entrepreneur / speakeasy manager / producer by the name of Mary Louise Cecilia “Texas” Guinan. Yes, yes, Guinan, as in Guinan, the El-Aurian bartender and informal counsellor aboard the starship USS Enterprise-D. (Hello, SB, EG and EP!)
It is worth mentioning that Robert the Robot played a small part in fighting the good fight during the Cold War, battling the godless hordes of communism. Sorry, sorry.
How did our robotic friend perform that patriotic duty, you ask, my sceptical reading friend? By taking part in the American National Exhibition, of course.
The exhibition in question was held in Moskvá / Moscow, Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, from July to September 1959. Items on display included American artworks, automobile, clothes, etc. And yes, there were model homes and futuristic kitchens.
Indeed, that emphasis on model homes and futuristic kitchens found in American newspapers proved problematic. You see, those newspapers did not mention all that much the advances in science and technology which were included in the American National Exhibition, an exhibition whose theme was The American Way of Life – America at Work and Play.
Yours truly must admit to being a tad annoyed by the use of the word America to describe the United States. There is, after all, more to the American continent than that one country. Anyway, let us move on.
As was to be expected, Ideal Toy and / or the organisers of that magnificent exercise in propaganda made sure that the American public knew what they were up to. One of the photographs published in many American newspapers, and at least one Canadian daily, showed, you guessed it, Robert the Robot.
“Decked out in some strange-looking headgear, this lad is demonstrating the talents of ‘Robert the robot’, a new mechanical toy. The robot’s eyes light up, he walks, he talks and moves his hands – all via remote control. The mechanical toy, made by the Ideal Toy Corp., will be displayed at the American Fair in Moscow this summer. It sells for about six dollars.” Anon., “Un jouet américain pour les petits Russes.” Le Soleil, 1 May 1959, 7.
Increasingly aware of the need to update its robotic offerings, Ideal Toy put Robert the Robot to pasture in 1960, I think, 6 or so years after its appearance on the shelves of countless stores. The firm launched Mr. Machine that very year. Another toy robot, Robot Commando, followed in 1961. Both of those toys also went on to have long and successful careers.
It is well worth mentioning that very, very, very few toys launched in the 1950s had careers which lasted 6 or so years. The average toy was yanked off the shelves after 1 or 2 years.
Even though reliable sales figures remained elusive, it has been suggested that up to 500 000 Robert the Robots might have been produced. Wah!
One of the reasons behind the most unusual longevity of Robert the Robot, besides its innovative design and the incessant advertising, was a 3 or so metre (10 or so feet) tall replica of that toy, made by Ideal Toy’s personnel. That 450 or so kilogramme (1 000 or so pounds) wood and metal giant showed up in stores, parades, movie houses, county fairs, auditoriums, etc., and this all over the United States.
Indeed, the giant proved so popular that a second one had to be built, in 1956, to keep up with demand.
One of the king size Robert the Robot advertising robots, shortly before the start of the 1956 edition of the Christmas parade of the Globe Store operated by Cleland-Simpson Company, Scranton, Pennsylvania, November 1956. Melvin N. Poretz, “The Journeys of a Robot.” Advertising Requirements, March 1958, 79.
Would you believe that, on at least one occasion, the giant robot was given pride of place over Santa Claus? I know, I know, the mind boggles. In November 1956, in Scranton, Pennsylvania, Cleland-Simpson Company staged the Christmas parade of its famous Globe Store around the arrival into town of said robot. The vehicle carrying Santa Claus rode into Scranton behind the truck in which the robot could be seen. Up to 15 000 people were on hand to cheer that Robert the Robot, err, Santa Claus parade.
Speaking (typing?) of a parade, the first giant robot took part in the 1955 edition of the famous Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade presented by the American department store chain R.H. Macy & Company.
Around that time, or sometime later, I cannot say, one of those same robots was interviewed on The Steve Allen Show by none other than… Stephen Valentine Patrick William “Steve” Allen, a famous American actor / comedian / composer / musician / television and radio personality / writer mentioned in a May 2023 issue of our glorious blog / bulletin / thingee.
A brief digression if I may. Yours truly was in Pennsylvania in March 1993 with 3 colleagues of what was then the National Aviation Museum, now the stupendous Canada Aviation and Space Museum, in Ottawa, Ontario, when the infamous blizzard of 1993 hit that state. Anything from 30 to 90 centimetres (12 to 36 inches) of snow blanketed northeastern and central Pennsylvania. And let us not forget the 70 to 105 kilometre/hour (45 to 65 miles/hour) winds.
The four of us had to find refuge in a hotel, for a few days, possibly near Scranton actually, and wait for the storm to pass. Actually, a trooper of the Pennsylvania State Police pretty much ordered us off the road. He did so after or just before our vehicle did what I vaguely remember as a spin on an icy bridge, a spin which ended when the right side of said vehicle touched the safety barrier of the bridge – at which point a high pitch squeak burst forth from my throat as I looked down, straight down, to whatever was below said bridge. Ah, memories. We will enjoy them. Not. End of digression.
And no, Ideal Toy did not did not pick up the freight tabs whenever its giant robots moved. A business which wanted to have one of them on its floor had to pay for shipment. Once the event was over, the robot was sent to its next destination, the freight tab being covered by the business in question.
Mind you, each business had to cover the cost of an advertisement covering at least a quarter of a page in a local newspaper, and pay the electricity bill for the robot. Ideal Toy seemingly provided promotion kits free of charge.
Incidentally, on at least several occasions, the robots travelled by air, courtesy of an important American air carrier mentioned in November 2017 and September 2021 issues of our magnificent blog / bulletin / thingee, Trans-World Airlines Incorporated. And yes, the giant robot presumably travelled by air while lying on its back.
Ideal Toy’s giant robots were operated by a gentleman who had clambered on board through a trapdoor. Once the robot was plugged in, its operator could light up its eyes and antenna. He could play music on an internal phonograph. He could make the robot move forward and backward. He could have it gently shake the hand of a person, young or old, and… Yes, yes, the robot, well, the operator actually, could talk using a microphone near his face and a loudspeaker located in what could be described as the robot’s belly button.
As you might have expected, the good people at Ideal Toy posted a script near the robot’s microphone so that its operator could give as good a promotional spiel as robotically possible. There were also pointers on how to answer unexpected queries.
The pointers presumably included a poem the operator could read if people pressed the Recite a Poem button located on the robot’s chest. The poem in question was of course “I am Robert Robot, mechanical man. Drive me or steer me wherever you can.”
Other buttons were entitled Sing a Song, Blink your Lights, etc.
This being said (typed?), at least one operator of the giant robot had to improvise during a stay in a branch of a leading department store located in Arlington, Virginia. As he was dragged away by his exasperated mom, after an hour spent chatting with the robot, a little boy shouted “see ya later, alligator.” Smart as a whip, the robot / operator replied, you guessed it, “in a while, crocodile,” in a drawl thick enough to cut with a saw.
Would you believe that, during a stay in a department store located in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, an operator had the good idea of putting on the phonograph a record with some mambo music? Said operator then made the robot move to the beat. I kid you not. The people in attendance cheered themselves hoarse. The good folks at Ideal Toy were so impressed by the operator’s initiative, and the reaction to it, that the mambo record was added to the robot’s playlist.
The very size of the giant robot proved problematic on at least one occasion, in late September 1955, in Cincinnati, Ohio. You see, the freight entrance of the downtown branch of John Shillito & Company, a major local department store, was just too small.
Somewhat panicky executives concluded that the only way they could save their 2-week booking was to put the robot on the sidewalk in front of the store. Extension cords linking the robot to a plug inside the store were soon unearthed. Some signs were also quickly painted. Within no time, the robot was perambulating up and down the sidewalk.
The improvised set up worked swimmingly. It worked so well in fact that a constable of the Cincinnati Police Department soon reported the presence of a large crowd in front of the store. Representatives of said department soon showed up. Having ascertained the situation, they pointed out that John Shillito & Company could not have a robot perambulate up and down the sidewalk without a permit.
Someone, presumably someone from John Shillito & Company, quickly contacted the municipal authorities. The City Manager, Charles Adair Harrell, quickly realised that a permission could not be given under the existing regulations. He therefore contacted the city council and asked that a special ordinance be adopted as quickly as possible so that the robot could perform its perambulations. The City Council gave its blessing to that suggestion. The ordinance was soon adopted and the robot was able to do what it was supposed to do for 8 days in early October, but back to Robert the Robot, but not before yours truly shows you proof of the tale I just told you.
An advertisement for the 1955 Toyland section of the downtown branch of John Shillito & Company of Cincinnati, Ohio. Anon., “John Shillito & Company.” The Cincinnati Enquirer, 2 October 1955, 25.
Now, we can get back to Robert the Robot – or not.
You see, in 1971, the Scottish artist and pioneer of pop art Eduardo Luigi Paolozzi published a limited edition set of 8 photogravures, Cloud Atomic Laboratory. One of those 8 pairs of images included Le Robot ‘Robert’ voulait aller à New York mais le passager est trop lourd et Wonder Toy, Robert the Robot.
If the second image, a photograph of a boy with an early example of Robert the Robot very similar to the one which introduced the first part of this article, did not really need an introduction, the first one might require one.
You see, that image shows the first giant replica of our robotic friend at the foot of mobile stairs leading to a Trans-World Airlines airliner, possibly a Lockheed L-749 Constellation. The photograph that Paolozzi used to create his photogravure was taken in 1955, possibly in September or October, seemingly prior to the first flight made by the first giant robot made by Ideal Toy’s personnel. The robot was on its way to Pittsburgh.
Would you believe that, at the time, the management of Ideal Toy briefly considered the possibility of having the robot briefly carry a female flight attendant in its arms? I kid you not, but then, how do you think the robotic protagonists of the contemporary American science fiction motion pictures Robot Monster and Tobor the Great were portrayed on posters, humm? Yes, you guessed it. Both of them were carrying an unconscious and gorgeous young woman, and now we can go back to Robert the Robot.
Oddly enough, as important as it proved to be in the history of toy robots, Robert the Robot did not become an enduring pop culture icon, a fate which befell another robot of the time, the surprisingly personable Robby the Robot, one of the most memorable characters of one of the most memorable science fiction movies of the 1950s, the 1956 American classic Forbidden Planet.
Of course, Robby the Robot had the advantage of being 2.1 or so metre (7 or so feet) tall. It also had the ability to hold his own in any conversation. Indeed, one could argue that Robby the Robot had a bit of a dry wit. It could burp too, like it did after having a swig of the genuine ancient rocket bourbon of the cook of the United Planets C-57D cruiser.
Yes, yes, the cruiser whose captain was a handsome if straightlaced Commander John J. Adams played by the Canadian actor / comedian Leslie William Nielsen, a gentleman mentioned in November 2018, January 2020 and March 2023 issues of our stellar blog / bulletin / thingee. I am telling you, the guy was so upright he walked without bending his knees, but back to Robert.
In more recent decades, Robert the Robot gained acceptance as a collectable. Indeed, a pristine condition example of that toy was worth a pretty penny in 2024.
Would you believe that some firms have produced, and might still be producing, copies of Robert the Robot? At least one of those copies seemingly lost the scratchy and squawky record in favour of a digital sound chip. At least some of those copies were made in China, which, in this case, could mean Taiwan.
Robert the Robot’s continuing appeal may well derive from a sense of nostalgia many North Americans and Western European of a certain age, most of them white men, feel toward the 1950s. With all due respect, yours truly does not harbour warm and fuzzy feelings toward those “good old days.”
The 1950s were after all a time when straight white “Father knows best” men ruled the world and when every other Homo sapiens on the planet was expected to bow low when one of those gifts to humankind walked by.
A subversive thought if I may. Given that straight white male Homo sapiens between the ages of 15 and 64 account for little more than 20 % of the population of Canada in 2024, by what right do they exercise so much power and violence? To ask that question might be to answer it.
Carpe diem, lectorem amici. Album homines non carborundum.
P.S. I know, I know, the Googlish translation of that sentence is somewhat amusing, but you know what I actually meant. I also know this 2nd part of our article on Robert the Robot was inordinately long. Profuse apologies. This articles should have consisted of three parts, not two.