Happy Bicentennial. Esso jumpsuits. Marijuana leaf t-shirts. Headbands (still). Lasers. Coors. Video screens. Salt tablets. Fireworks. Barricades. Adidas. Frisbees. Liquid jewelry. Lenny Kaye suggested that in the future rock audiences be required to arrive at stadiums wearing dollar bills; the appropriate numbers could be picked off at the door. After all, as the Blue Oyster Cult sings, “This ain’t the Summer of Love.”

I cannot believe what I just got in the mail. Yes, columnists do get free records, concert tickets and promotional t-shirts. And . . . pins like the recent “Kiss” lips and “Run With The Pack” album cover replica. And more.

Today I got a Cher doll.

The Cher doll is not unlike the Barbie doll, and is on sale in toy stores everywhere. When I attempted to find out the price from the doll’s press agent, I was told that it was “up to the retailer.” Rappaport’s Toy Store in New York City is selling Cher for $12.95, while the latest Barbie model is $9.95. Cher is selling well, mostly to girls in the “regular doll age.” When I pressed as to what exactly that was, I was told six to nine year olds, often younger. “They ask for it,” the man on the phone said, “because they see it advertised on TV.”

(And record companies still don’t believe in TV ads, Peter Lemongello or no Peter Lemongello.)

Back to the doll. She arrived gowned in long pink polyester, sleeveless and halter necked. Pink plastic high heel shoes complete the ensemble, such as it is. The rubber-like skin color is somewhere between hepatitis and mulatto; facial makeup consists of red lipstick, blue eyeshadow and blue eyebrows. You could brush your teeth with her eyelashes.

The Cher doll is not unlike those voodoo doll? you can buy in New Orleans to stick pins in. She looks nothing like Cher, and one wonders just how much creative control the real Cher had over this product.

Upon undressing the doll, one notes that she is not (I believe this is the proper term in the doll trade) anatomically correct. No nipples, the crotch is very Bionic Woman, and imprinted on the ass is “Made in Hong Kong.”

Available at “around” $2.95 each are thirty-two different outfits, miniature replicas of Cher’s Bob Mackie designed gowns/jumpsuits/costumes. Now the Cher doll can have the same spectacularly tacky wardrobe that the real Cher has. “Starlight” is a long black fishnet dress and matching hood. “Pink Fluff” is maribou trimmed. “Gown of Paradise” has a train and “Madame Chan” and “Dragon Lady” look like the kind of Oriental clothing I wish I hadn’t endorsed quite so heartily a year ago.

There are more. “Easy Living,” “Cherokee,” “Hoedown,” “Jumperoo,” “Laverne” and “Chocolate Mocha” range from grotesque to hilarious. I’m not in the habit of dishing kids’ toys, and perhaps there are many more truly awful items in this market. Perhaps also, there are millions of little girls who want this. If I were seven years old, would I want this? Basically, I wonder what’s next.

There’s already a Sonny doll on the way. Complete with L.A. leisure suits and gold chains around his neck. (With a dangling gold razor??) There’s a “dressing room set” for Cher. How about a TV production company office with people rushing in with the latest Nielsons tearing their hair out?

I know. A Mary Hartman doll. Watch.