Of all the secrets behind the success of those famous Ginsu knives - you know, the ones with the guy karate-chopping tomatoes in the commercial more than 25 years ago, the one that forever changed the way we bought products "as seen on TV" - the most interesting might be this:

They were made in Fremont.

That's right, one of the most famous "Japanese" products ever sold was produced for years right here in Ohio by Quikut Cutlery Co.

But wait, there's more!

"The name [Ginsu] is a completely made-up name," confessed one of the two men behind the juggernaut, Ed Valenti.

"It doesn't mean anything in any language," said the other Ginsu guy, Barry Becher. "We like to say that it means, 'I never have to work again.'●"

What the men were looking for in a Japanese-sounding name for a Midwestern-made product was a way to make it stand out. What they found was a way to make millions, create an icon, and revolutionize the way that consumers bought products and entrepreneurs advertised them.

Pop culture guru Robert Thompson called it "the pitch of all pitches."

"It still remains close to the top of the Hall of Fame of those types of commercials, along with the Chia Pet and the Clapper," said the director of the Center for the Study of Popular Television at Syracuse University.

When other commercials were concerned mostly with image, the Ginsu guys, who have a book sharing their wisdom coming out at the end of the month, merged entertainment and advertising, reminiscent of old-time medicine shows.

"I knew if we didn't capture the attention of the public in the first 10, 15 seconds of the commercial, we wouldn't be able to slide them into the rest of the ordering process," said Mr. Valenti, who was a broadcasting executive for an NBC affiliate in 1975 when he teamed up with Mr. Becher, a transmission shop entrepreneur.

In some ways, it was all about slick presentation. Free gifts - if you act now! - and low prices for "amazing" products made it hard for consumers to pass up.

It worked. They sold more than 2 million Ginsu knives.

Mr. Thompson said it is easy to understand what viewers thought as they watched the knife on the commercial cut through a variety of unexpected items.

"I don't slice shoes, I don't use knives to cut nails, but if I can use this for that, imagine how nice this will work for my more modest needs," he said. "No matter how rational of a person ... by the time that was over, you would think, 'I would be absolutely foolhardy not to take advantage of this incredible deal.' "

There were other innovations that came with the Ginsu guys. The pair pioneered using toll-free 800 numbers and Mr. Becher developed computer software that allowed them to take credit card orders.

Over the years, they became the godfathers of direct response television, generating more than $500 million in sales on numerous products. But Ginsu was the one that history remembers best, the one that seemed to launch a thousand jokes and parodies by everyone from John Belushi to Jerry Seinfeld.

"It's nice to be part of pop culture and part of history," Mr. Becher, 63, said by phone from Florida, where he lives in retirement.

This was the forebear to the infomercials of today, which changes in law now allow to be much longer than the two minutes the Ginsu guys had.

Now, the pair are hoping to influence history again in their book The Wisdom of Ginsu: Carve Yourself a Piece of the American Dream (Career Press, 2005).

"We teach in the book how to think differently," said Mr. Valenti, 56, who lives in Rhode Island.

For example: Not making a mistake is a mistake.

"Great entrepreneurs have to learn from their mistakes," he said.

Like the time the pair decided not to loan a guy named Ted Turner some money to start a 24-hour news network, which became CNN.

Or the decision to sell most items for $9.95 and $19.95 instead of $9.99 and $19.99 - a difference of hundreds of thousands of dollars in revenue when you're selling millions of products.

A few other "Ginsuisms":

Keep your secrets of success to yourself. Never settle for what people tell you. Know what buttons to push ... and push them.

For some people, the knives that started it all remain more than a pop culture phenomenon or a reason to write a book; they're a trusted kitchen utensil.

(You can still buy them, by the way.)

Robert R. Greene, certified executive chef at Tamaron Country Club in Toledo, still has a set of Ginsu knives at home that he bought about 20 years ago.

"I'll be dead honest with you," he confided. "The steak knives we use on a regular basis. They've held up fantastic."

Syracuse University's Mr. Thompson bought a set too, though it was as a gift to his parents ages ago.

"They said they loved them," he said. "But they said that about my art when I would make homemade greeting cards as well."

Contact Ryan E. Smith at:

ryansmith@theblade.com

or 419-724-6103.

First Published March 17, 2005, 9:52 a.m.