When I read that Don Kracke, the inventor of Rickie Tickie Stickies, passed away last month at 86, I instantly saw myself, a nine-year-old SJG, sticking those peppy flowers on my mirror and feeling so groovy every time I stepped into the bathroom. I didn't stop at mirrors, though. I stuck those stickers everywhere. This was my shout out, my call for peace, love and understanding. I was going to change the world, one Rickie Tickie Stickie at a time.
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| Don Kracke |
Nothing made me happier than those stickers. It was 1967. I didn't have that much going on. Except at nine, I was finally able to walk into Westwood Village with a friend, and that was a big deal. But there were rules, people. The one place I wasn't allowed to step foot in was the local head shop, where they sold, you guessed it, Rickie Tickie Stickies. You couldn't buy them at the drugstore or JC Penney's. It pains me to tell you, but I entered the land of rolling papers, lighters and hippy paraphernalia, anyway. And got caught by the rule maker herself, my own mother, who drove by and saw me in action. I had crossed the line. "You're grounded," she said, which, at nine, meant I couldn't talk on the phone and watch TV for a week. Torture! And yet, she was a softie at heart. She let me keep my one and only package of Rickie Tickie Stickies. Good thing they were reusable.
The first time my dad saw those big wonderful flowers stuck on my mirror, he declared, "Neato ka-beeto!" I heard "neato ka-beeto" a lot growing up. That and, "Far In!" (as opposed to "Far Out!"). He always knew how to make me laugh. So here's to my dad and here's to my mom for letting me keep the contraband. And here's to Don Kracke and his Rickie Tickie Stickies. They gave me and countless others joy, and above all, hope for a better world.
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