From New York, the greatest city in the world… David Letterman remade, revitalized, and often ridiculed the tired late-night talk show format in the 1980s. With iconoclastic writers like Merrill Markoe, Jim Downey, and Steve O’Donnell, Late Night was like nothing on television before - and expanded the boundaries for everything on television since.

It’s only natural that Late Night‘s quest for never-before-seen material would lead it a mile or so east of the NBC studios, to New York’s original purveyors of the best, the unique, and the unexpected: Hammacher Schlemmer. Twice during the show’s first half-decade, Hammacher representatives appeared during Christmas shopping season, our most telegenic inventory in tow.

Our first segment came on December 17, 1984. John Lowe, then manager of retail operations, looked dapper in a tailored suit as he tried to help Dave steer a radio-controlled blimp. Regrettably, dirigible pilot did not prove to be among Letterman’s many talents. Next, a temperamental talking scale took its sweet time reading the host’s weight. “This is much quicker than the old-fashioned way, where you have to figure out where the needle is,” needled the waiting host. “Is it 200? Is it 500? I can’t tell.” We had better luck with an electric log splitter, sending our debut appearance out on a piercing high note.

It was no doubt a tough act to follow for the guest who followed us, an up-and-coming comedian named Eddie Murphy. Wonder whatever became of him?

Somehow, America made it through the 1985 holiday season sans benefit of our Letterman-mediated advice. But we were back on December 9, 1986. “If you’re like me and haven’t finished your Christmas shoplifting yet,” Letterman said by way of introduction, bringing out our then executive vice-president Marc Baumann with a sackload of covetables seeking a tree to nestle under.

This time, our visit coincided with an experiment where the camera slowly rotated 360 degrees on its horizontal axis through the entire show, a characteristic piece of Late Night brilliant idiocy that rendered our whimsical innovations even more topsy-turvy than usual. Letterman gamely tried a lawnmowing tricycle, a face-down lounger, and a handheld copier before climbing into the bulbous Opsvik Arboreal Chair. On being told the price tag of $3700 (over $11,000 today), Dave asked, “You haven’t sold a one of these, have you?” Marc optimistically replied, “Not yet.”

It would be a few decades before a Hammacher product again played foil to Letterman’s genially scathing wit, when Ellie Kemper brought along The Selfie Toaster to his final run of pre-retirement episodes. Our only regret is that Dave never dropped any of our stuff off of a five-story tower.

Thanks for reading Gnomenclature from Hammacher Schlemmer. Subscribe for more stories from retail’s most fascinating archive.

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Thank you to Letterman archivist extraordinaire Don “The Donz” Giller for the clips. If you’re a Letterman enthusiast and haven’t yet fallen into the The Donz’s rabbit hole, prepare to lose many hours of time in the best possible way.