In an unprecedented move by an organization not exactly known for unbridled creativity, the Chemical Heritage Foundation has lit a match under its oxygen tank. Its newly opened "The Sky's the Limit" exhibit examines the role of atomic technology and the impact of polymers in 1950s pop culture. The display captures the innocence of the day and the widespread belief that through chemistry, anything was possible.

Here's the short of it: WWII ended with a bang, we patted ourselves on the collective back for a decimation job well done, but — oh, hell — we left a surplus of research labs and research scientists without a lick of work. The government decided it wasn't in the manufacturing business and sold its patents to industry moguls, who then told the research scientists to turn things like petroleum into carpet and other marketable products. Ad gurus got busy convincing the public it needed newfangled things like petroleum carpeting, and words like nylon, polyester, spandex, fiberglass and Styrofoam joined the daily lexicon. The big guns hopped the bandwagon — Monsanto's chemistry exhibit in Disneyland, DuPont's Wonderful World of Chemistry musical at the 1964 New York World's Fair — and made the new plastics affordable and accessible. Hence Levittown, the Joneses and the race to be the first on the block with a color TV.

CHF archivists set out to capture the long of it, so they hired artist Keith Ragone to execute their vision in splashy colors and kitschy displays. Some objects were loaned from private collections and acquired through auction, while others were bought on eBay or borrowed from staffers' garages and jewelry boxes. The objets d'art include plastic bracelets, rhinestone Lucite stilettos, silly putty, toy action figures and old Perry Como 45s. Ads were harvested from Life, Good Housekeeping and McCall's, then scanned and collaged into striking visual wallpaper.

Most entrancing is the rehabbed Zenith television running Maypo commercials and loops of duck-and-cover footage showing schoolchildren diving under desks and picnicking families literally stopping and dropping at the flash and crack of a simulated atomic attack.

Science types can get their geek on with the 1950 RCA Model EMT3 Desktop Electron Microscope Unit, images of the 1960 Launder-O-Meter (which tested wash-fastness of dyed fabrics) and a host of atomic-era junior chemistry sets featuring all manner of hazardous materials. Should little Billy improperly handle the ammonium chloride and copper pellets included in his Porter Chemcraft kit, the radioactive protection screen would prove as effective against alpha emitters as an umbrella facing a tsunami.

"There was a naive impression of atomic energy," says senior archivist Jennifer Landry. "People put on shades and brought lawn chairs to watch an H-bomb test in Nevada. It was a lack of knowledge, but the same thing is happening now and we just don't know it. People will be standing in an exhibit like this 50 years from now going, 'Gosh, didn't they know better?'"

Old photos prove even the scientists themselves were guilty of walking around in street clothes with a cigarette in one hand and a Geiger counter in the other.

While most of "Sky" focuses on the optimism of the era, a few ominous reminders of what happens when science stops playing nice and starts getting real smack hard at the very end: a sign from a fallout shelter, a lobby card from Atomic Monster and a wall-sized photo mural of a mushroom cloud from a Bikini Atoll detonation that vaporized whole islands and ships and the goats aboard them. Similarly, a companion exhibit located on CHF's third floor titled "Beyond Imagination: A Selection of Atomic Age Books" features more than a dozen Red Scare bunkum novels, many of which were sold in pharmacies and supermarkets. One book jacket compares and contrasts photos of Hiroshima and Tokyo after a massive incendiary raid. "The point was, 'See how much better we flattened Hiroshima? There's nothing left here!'" notes Mangravite with a shake of the head.

After touring "Sky," you can't help but draw parallels between then and now. Is the military cranking out products in secret labs that'll one day be in kitchens everywhere? Should we start making our wish lists for the post-War on Terror boom now? Will we ever again regard science or government with such unflagging trust?

"It's really easy to engage people with kitsch/retro material. If the exhibit only allows people to smile at themselves and at science because of the way it was framed by industry through advertising, maybe that's enough," says Ragone. "But I think it's great to allow the audience to reflect on bigger things as well. It's a really different kind of world we live in today. We aren't the Jetsons."

"The Sky's the Limit," Mon.-Fri., 10 a.m.-4 p.m., through May 2006, free; "Duck and Cover! Everyday Life in the Atomic Age of the 1950s," 5 p.m. reception, 6 p.m. lecture, Thu., Oct. 6, free, Chemical Heritage Foundation, 315 Chestnut St., 215-925-2222, www.chemheritage.org.