C is for CRACKERJACK

It was Friday and it was always five o'clock, until they changed the programming schedules and then it became five to five, but whatever time it started it signalled two things, Crackerjack and the start of the weekend. I was fortunate enough, if you value the past, or unfortunate enough if consider how long ago it was, to have been able to perch in front of the television on a late Friday afternoon and watch Eamon Andrews in black and white, shout that famous opening line that brought a resounding audience response of 'Crackerjack'. Indeed every time the word was uttered in the programme, the audience responded in the same way and it became something of a custom throughout its history. But here's something I didn't know. Although the show started in 1955, incidentally before I was born, it wasn't until the very late sixties that it became a regular Friday slot, up until that time having been moved around the schedules. It had a series of presenters and though Eamon went on to the big red book, I remember more vividly the years of Leslie Crowther, Ed 'Stewpot' Stewart and Michael Aspel giving the five o'clock call. The programme seemed to run for about forty to fifty minutes, just before the Magic Roundabout and the news and it always had a similar format and an audience of mostly children.

The comedy spot was a double act of Peter Glaze and initially Jack Douglas who was eventually replaced by the zany Don Maclean. It was always slapstick, sometimes studio based and sometimes silent and usually Peter came out of it the poorer. Then there was a music spot where a band or singer, popular at the time, did a song or two and the finale was a short play in which all the cast took part, sang songs, cracked jokes, fell over, got covered in mess and generally ended with the presenter appearing in the middle of it all to say goodbye and the audience of juniors shouting 'Crackerjack' at the top of their voices.

Yet the most memorable part of the show would always be the games section when several kids were brought out to the front and competed for a whole series of prizes by answering questions in a game called Double or Drop. Every time they got a question correct, they were given a prize to hold and by the end of the competition, if they had answered a lot correctly their arms were laden with prizes. Unfortunately, if they dropped any of the prizes that they obtained, they were out of the competition and lost almost everything, except for one very special prize, the Crackerjack Pencil, that they would have received for one of their correct answers. This pencil was a coveted prize much in the same way as the Blue Peter Badge and nobody, except those who took part ever got one. They were always kept locked away and it's even rumoured that when an important BBC person asked for one, he was turned down. Anyway, Double or Drop was made more interesting by cabbages being given for wrongly answered questions, the theory being that because they were large and awkward to hold, they would add to the difficulty of any kid trying not to drop one of their prizes. And in practice that's exactly what happened. Every wrong answer brought another cabbage into your arms, on top of your desired prizes and, unfortunately if you managed to get three cabbages or dropped one of them, then you were out and all you had to take home was the Crackerjack pencil. The winner was the child still standing, holding all their prizes and cabbages, when everyone else had been eliminated.

I often thought that the cabbage wasn't a bad prize at all. Maybe it was because dad's favourite dinner was bacon and cabbage fried on the pan and a cabbage could have been used for several meals. After all it contains plenty of Vitamin C, is used as the basis of Coleslaw, popular in soups, has plenty of fibre, is the basis of the German delicacy, Sauerkraut and is used in many cultures because of its medicinal and anti-inflammatory properties. So I guess if Crackerjack had been broadcast in some other countries, the children would probably have been keen enough to get a couple of questions wrong. I can just imagine their parents saying to them, before they appeared on the programme, 'Now, whatever you do, make sure you come home with one or two cabbages rather than a Playstation or a Crackerjack pencil.'

It's funny the value we place on things, isn't it? How something seemingly of little worth to one person can mean so much to another. We live in an age where materialism overrides almost everything, where the Crackerjack pencil is more valued than the cabbage and what we have is more important than who we are. Jesus says ' For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world, and loses his own soul?' This past week I have been reminded yet again of the shortness and uncertainty of life and how important it is that our priorities have God at the top of the list. For the prize He offers is not based on what I can amass in this world nor what it deems to be valuable. It is a prize of eternal life with Him in Heaven that He has prepared in return for my faith and obedience in Him. That's why Paul in his letter to the church at Philippi states 'I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.'

I never owned a coveted Crackerjack pencil but I've eaten many a humble cabbage. May you find in life what is truly valuable and may your soul find rest among the leaves of His Word.