The Schlockiest His and Hers

“The North American word schlock”, according to Vocabulary.com, “comes from the Yiddish word shlak, … "junk," or from the German Schlacke, "dregs," "slag," or "refuse."” It’s crap. Not the definition, you understand. Interestingly, Schlock is also the name of a campy 1973 horror comedy from John Landis about a missing link ape who terrorizes a small rural town (but it’s the part where he falls in love with a blind girl that really gets you).

“Sch-lock” is also, now, one of a set of novel puzzle lock boxes created by Matthew Taylor, an undertaker from Derbyshire, England, with a penchant for puzzling and a knack for tinkering, particularly with locks. His creations have been clever combinations of puzzle locks and sequential discovery puzzle boxes. He has also combined two of them into one larger experience, “The Schlockiest His and Hers”. Anything with such a ridiculous name deserves some degree of explanation, and Matt doesn’t let us down. His story starts in a familiar place, the annual holiday gift giving event held by an international community of puzzle enthusiasts which I have mentioned before. You may recall that this is how the “Prostate Box” came to be – if not, you should read the probing account of that one, too. For the annual gift exchange, participants are anonymously assigned one another so they know who their gift is going to, but not who they will receive one from. Knowing this can be intimidating, if, for example, the assigned recipient is well-known to have solved practically everything in existence already. There was nothing for it but to embark on a new undertaking … Matt would create something new. He had been fiddling with another brilliant puzzle lock, the “Lock Out” by Andrew Coles, and had an idea. His new design featured a ring on the shackle, so was duly named, “wed-lock”, and became the impetus for his subsequent designs.

The Schlockiest His and Hers puzzle lock box by Matthew Taylor — A brief case of confusion

Matt explains: “To find the right padlock for wed-lock, I’d bought about 10 different padlocks to try and make it. One of the others was the Abus disc detainer lock used for both “His & Hers” and “Sch-lock”. His & Hers was made first. Originally it wasn’t in a briefcase style box, it was a padlock screwed to a plank of wood, with 2 small ring boxes either side (his & hers) and I’m not massively creative with naming, so I just ran with it even after putting all the extra things with it and putting it in a briefcase. Following on from that [a friend] talked me into getting a 3D printer, despite not using a computer since my teens, I thought I’d have a crack at it to try and print his & hers as my DIY skills are awful. But at the time I’d been playing with another idea with another lock in wood and decided to try and draw something more simple in fusion to go with the lock. It didn’t have a name though. But one of the comments with his & hers was “dude, really enjoyed it, I mean, terrible quality, but really enjoyed it” so I went with the name “sch-lock” (schlock meaning cheap or inferior goods) but it’s a word with “lock” in it. Finally I got really drunk and wondered if I could put all 3 wed-lock, his & hers, and sch-lock into one puzzle box. I couldn’t get wed-lock into it, otherwise it would be called the “his & hers schlocky wed-locks” very creative. But with only the 2 locks, I settled with the schlockiest his & hers.”

There you have it, the real life true adventure of how the sleeper hit double feature of the season got it’s incredibly odd name. Compared to Kathleen Malcolmson and Perry McDaniel’s diminutive puzzling briefcases, Matt’s creation is big, about the size of a small laptop. It’s tricked out in numerous latches and locks, with one particularly imposing large lock secured along one of the sides (depending on whether it is the fully 3D printed version or the hybrid wood and 3D print version, as seen here). In case that wasn’t distinctive enough, the puzzle’s name is boldly emblazoned across the top, spelled out in semi-perfectly arranged scrabble tiles. The whole affair looks rather, well, schlocky, which is to say, temptingly and unpretentiously inviting. Matt never said he was a woodworker, or an artist, for that matter, but has always been a puzzler. “I’ve always done sudoku, mostly while on the toilet and work lunch breaks. Never while eating lunch on the toilet.” We are fortunate that he has put his very clever ideas (and sense of humor) out into the world, one way or another. The whole affair ends up being incredibly charming, and presents plenty of satisfying puzzling. As described, there are two puzzles in one here, which feel like two stages, blocking you from opening the briefcase, and then stumping you again once inside. The puzzles feel perfectly executed, not obvious or easy, but not impossible after some thought and exploration (although I hit plenty of walls!). The whole briefcase theme adds to the adventure, making the experience feel like espionage, and most certainly like going on an adventure. Matt’s use of mixed media works well and gets the job done. There’s no sugar coating the craftsmanship, but honestly that only adds to the charm. This is a trip worth taking – but just remember Matt’s warning: “don’t let me name a puzzle for you”.

Here’s a bit more schlock for you as well, a crazy toast to this crazy puzzle. I was fairly certain I wasn’t going to find a great cocktail to pair with this unusual puzzle lock and puzzle box hybrid (although a crappy cocktail would have been apropos, I suppose, but I actually really like this puzzle). In situations like this, I do what Matt did when faced with the dilemma of what to do for the person who has seen it all – I made something new. For a hybrid box, I created a hybrid cocktail, combining two classic cocktails into one monster mashup.

The Mai Tai is a well known, tropical drink often associated with Hawaii, and even more often misunderstood. The drink, when properly made and in its original form (as invented by Trader Vic in 1944 at his Californian bar), is essentially just a fancy daiquiri (a simple combination of rum, lime and sugar). A Mai Tai ideally features pungent Jamaican rum, with the sugar replaced by orgeat, a sweet almond syrup common in tropical (tiki) drinks, and a little nuance provided by orange curacao. It’s a delicious drink when done well in the classic style. If you’re curious about the history of the drink I’ve written about it previously here. Another vintage classic with a modern comeback following is the Last Word, a drink I have also written about extensively. You can find more history as well as a whole category devoted to it here. The Last Word is so popular due to how easy it is to adapt the ingredients, an equal parts combination of gin, lime, maraschino (cherry) liqueur and Chartruese, the herbal French liqueur. For this mad mixology mashup, I’ve retained the rum from the Mai Tai in place of the gin from the Last Word. I used Denizen’s Merchant Reserve, a rum specifically formulated to mimic the original Mai Tai rum used by Trader Vic in the forties. I’ve also split the sweetener between the Mai Tai almond and Last word cherry, using liqueurs to dial back the sugar a touch. Finally, I love a little Campari in my Mai Tai (a “Bitter Mai Tai”), because everything’s better with Campari, so a little dose of that goes a long way here as well. But what to call it – perhaps a hybrid of the two cocktails? Mai Word, what a great idea! Cheers!

Mai Word

1 oz Denizen Merchant Reserve

¾ lime

¾ oz Green Chartreuse

¼ oz Amaretto

¼ oz Maraschino

¼ oz Campari

Shake ingredients with crushed ice and open pour everything into a favorite glass. Spent lime wheel and brandied cherry garnish.

Explore more:

Cheap Goods

Good AdVice

Menace II Society