online community focused on sharing and reminiscing about video, audio, and images that stir our memories of the past – old television, theme songs, commercials, print advertisements, the sights and sounds you remember
T.H.E. Cat was a 1966–67 NBC action series starring Robert Loggia as Thomas Hewitt Edward Cat, a former circus aerialist and cat burglar who now worked as a bodyguard.
The show fit right into the mid-’60s wave of stylish spy and crime shows like The Man from U.N.C.L.E., I Spy, Batman, and The Green Hornet, but it had a darker, jazzier feel. Cat used stealth, acrobatics, and street smarts instead of gadgets, operating out of a nightclub called Casa del Gato.
NBC aired it Friday nights after The Man from U.N.C.L.E., hoping to keep that cool adventure audience watching. It only lasted 26 episodes, but for those who remember it, T.H.E. Cat remains one of those sharp, moody little shows that felt different from the usual TV heroes of the time.
or a lot of early TV kids, Howdy Doody was not just a show. It was part of the daily routine.
The Howdy Doody Show first aired on NBC on December 27, 1947, and stayed on the air until September 24, 1960. That is almost 13 years, which was an amazing run for early television. It started as a regular afternoon children’s show, later became a weekday favorite, and by 1956 moved mainly to Saturday mornings until the final broadcast.
The show was hosted by Buffalo Bob Smith, who would ask, “Say kids, what time is it?” and the Peanut Gallery would yell back, “It’s Howdy Doody Time!” For kids watching at home, that was the signal that it was time to visit Doodyville.
The cast had Howdy Doody, Buffalo Bob, Clarabell the Clown, Phineas T. Bluster, Dilly Dally, Flub-a-Dub, Princess Summerfall Winterspring, and Chief Thunderthud. Clarabell became one of the most remembered characters because he did not speak for most of the show, using horns and pantomime instead.
The final episode became famous because Clarabell finally spoke. After years of silence, he looked into the camera and said, “Goodbye, kids.” For many viewers, that was the end of an era. TIME later called that kind of farewell important because most early TV shows simply disappeared without much of a real goodbye.
Howdy Doody did come back years later with The New Howdy Doody Show, a syndicated revival in 1976, but it did not last long and never had the same hold on kids that the original did.
What do you remember most from Howdy Doody? Was it Clarabell, Buffalo Bob, the Peanut Gallery, the theme song, Flub-a-Dub, Princess Summerfall Winterspring, or maybe some toy or lunchbox you had from the show?
Clarabell speaks is from the final episode of The Howdy Doody Show, which aired on Saturday, September 24, 1960, on NBC. The episode was called “Clarabell’s Big Surprise,” and for kids who grew up with Howdy, Buffalo Bob, and the Peanut Gallery, it really was the end of an era.
What still surprises people is that the final show was in color. Color TV was still not common in most homes, so many viewers probably saw it in black and white. But NBC was already using certain shows to show off color television, and Howdy Doody was one of those early programs that helped introduce it.
The big moment came at the end. Clarabell the Clown, who had spent years communicating with horns and gestures, finally spoke. As the show ended, he looked into the camera and said, “Goodbye, kids.” That quiet little line became one of the most remembered farewells in early television.
It was reported and remembered as Clarabell’s big surprise because nobody expected the silent clown to finally talk. For a generation of children, it was not just the end of a show. It felt like saying goodbye to part of childhood.
Do you remember Howdy Doody? Was it Clarabell’s horn, the seltzer bottle, Buffalo Bob, the Peanut Gallery, Princess Summerfall Winterspring, Chief Thunderthud, Flub-a-Dub, or maybe a Howdy Doody toy or lunchbox?
The 1978 Miller Lite commercial with Billy Martin and George Steinbrenner worked because it was barely a joke. It was almost real life.
The ad played off Miller Lite’s famous “Tastes Great / Less Filling” campaign. Steinbrenner and Martin are sitting together, acting like they are finally getting along, until they start arguing over whether the beer’s best feature is the taste or that it is less filling. Then Steinbrenner gives the line everyone expected: “Billy, you’re fired.” Martin’s answer: “Not again.”
That was the whole joke. Everyone watching knew Steinbrenner and Martin had one of the strangest boss-manager relationships in sports. Martin was fiery, emotional, and a winner. Steinbrenner loved that until he didn’t. Then he would fire him, cool off, and eventually bring him back.
Their Yankees relationship was truly on again, off again. Martin managed the Yankees five different times, and each stint seemed to come with drama. He won a World Series with them in 1977, but by 1978 the tension with Steinbrenner and Reggie Jackson was boiling over. Martin left the team that summer after his famous “one’s a born liar, and the other’s convicted” remark.
That is what made the commercial so funny. It was not just two celebrities doing a beer ad. It was Steinbrenner and Billy Martin making fun of the exact thing everyone already knew about them.
Looking back, it is one of those commercials that could only have worked at that exact moment. The Yankees were huge, Miller Lite ads were everywhere, and Steinbrenner firing Billy Martin had practically become a running gag before running gags were a thing.
I’m not sure how many people still remember the original “John… Marsha…” bit from Stan Freberg’s spoof of old radio soap operas, but I sure remember it living on long after that. Even into the 1960s, I remember TV shows and my parents still making fun of that overly dramatic back-and-forth.
The gag was simple: a man and a woman saying nothing but each other’s names, over and over, each time with a different dramatic emotion. “John…” “Marsha…” It was romantic, shocked, heartbroken, breathless, and ridiculous all at once. That was the whole joke. Freberg was poking fun at how serious radio soap operas could make even the smallest moment sound.
Part of the reason it may have stuck around so long was the Snowdrift shortening commercial seen here. The animated ad used the same kind of “John and Marsha” style, which helped keep the bit alive for people who may never have heard the original record.
It became one of those old pop-culture references that parents, comedians, cartoons, and commercials could all tap into. All someone had to do was say “John…” in that dramatic voice, and someone else could answer “Marsha…” and the joke was instantly understood.
Since I made two posts today about The Man from U.N.C.L.E., I thought it only made sense to close the day with Disney’s The Monkey’s Uncle. No, not The Monkees the band, and not Napoleon Solo’s U.N.C.L.E., but a 1965 Disney comedy starring Annette Funicello and Tommy Kirk.
The movie was a sequel to The Misadventures of Merlin Jones, with Kirk playing the young college genius Merlin Jones and Annette playing Jennifer. The title comes from the old saying “I’ll be a monkey’s uncle,” and in the movie there is even a chimpanzee named Stanley mixed into the story. It is pure mid-60s Disney: college kids, inventions, a silly plot, and just enough teen appeal to make it feel current.
The strangest and best part is the opening. Somehow Disney got the actual Beach Boys to appear with Annette and sing the title song. The song was written by Richard and Robert Sherman, the same songwriting brothers behind many Disney classics, and D23 notes that the film featured Annette and the Beach Boys performing the title tune.
That is what makes the clip so perfectly 1965. You have wholesome Disney, former Mouseketeer Annette Funicello, the Beach Boys’ surf harmonies, and a goofy song built around a monkey joke. It is the kind of combination that sounds made up now, but back then it made perfect sense. Disney wanted the youth audience, Annette was already tied to the beach-movie crowd, and the Beach Boys gave it that instant teenage radio sound.
So after a day of U.N.C.L.E., here is the other “uncle”: not a spy agency, just Annette, Disney, a chimp, and the Beach Boys somehow making “monkey’s uncle” sound like a surf-rock hit.
Some toy commercials age gracefully. Others come back years later and make you wonder how nobody in the room stopped and said, “Maybe we should rethink that name.”
Ball Buster was a real 1970s tabletop game from Mego, the same company many of us remember for action figures. The game itself was pretty simple. Players had plastic balls mounted on springy stems, and the object was to knock your opponent’s pieces out.
Of course, what people remember now is not really the strategy. It is the name. The commercial leaned right into it, making the whole thing sound far more questionable than a family game probably should have. Today, it plays more like a comedy sketch than a toy ad.
But that was also part of the 1970s. Toy companies were trying anything to stand out. Strange names, loud commercials, plastic pieces flying around, and announcers treating every game like it was the most exciting thing ever invented.
Ball Buster may not have become a household classic, but it definitely became one of those “wait, that was real?” games. And yes, it was real.
Small Shots was one of those 1971 toy ideas that sounds strange now, but made sense once you see it. Mattel basically took the Hot Wheels idea and put little dolls on skates, wagons, carts, and other rolling stands that could run on Hot Wheels-style track.
The commercial is pure early ’70s toy advertising. Everything moves fast, the kids act amazed, and the announcer makes it sound like this was the next big thing. It was not just a doll, and it was not just a car. It was Mattel trying to mix both worlds together.
That was probably the real idea. Hot Wheels was huge with boys, while dolls were usually marketed to girls. Small Shots tried to pull both sides together — little fashion-style figures that could race, roll, and crash down a track. It was a clever idea, even if it also feels a little odd today.
Another interesting note: one of the early Small Shots commercials is listed among Jodie Foster’s early TV commercial work. She was still a child actor at the time, years before most people knew her name.
Small Shots did not last very long, but it is a great example of how toy companies in the 1970s were willing to try almost anything. Dolls on Hot Wheels track? Why not. In that era, if it rolled, launched, flipped, or crashed, somebody was going to put it in a commercial.
This old Dairy Queen ad has that familiar feel of a commercial trying to grab kids fast. Instead of just showing ice cream, they used animation to make it feel fun, quick, and a little more exciting.
That was probably the point of the cartoon. A regular person talking about Dairy Queen might have felt too ordinary, but a cartoon could bounce around, move fast, and make it seem like something fun was happening.
And of course, there had to be that twangy guitar. It seemed like every ad trying to appeal to the youngsters needed some version of the “new rock and roll sound.” It was not always real rock and roll, but advertisers knew a little guitar twang made things feel younger and cooler.
Simple ad, simple idea: a cartoon, a catchy sound, and the promise of ice cream. That was enough to get Dairy Queen stuck in your head.
I remember as a kid getting excited about a new action hero, The Green Hornet. He had the mask, a cool partner, and a very cool car like every other action hero. But for me, the show was boring.
Here’s why.
It looked like it was going to be another fun superhero-type show, especially with the Green Hornet’s mask, Kato, and the Black Beauty. But once the episode started, it felt more like a straight crime drama than an action show. There was a lot of talking, a lot of newspaper office scenes, and not nearly enough of the cool stuff kids were waiting for.
The producers seemed to be trying hard not to make another Batman. While Batman was colorful, campy, and aimed right at kids and families, The Green Hornet tried to play things straighter and appeal more to adults. That may have made it more serious, but for a kid waiting for action, it also made the show feel slower.
Kato, played by Bruce Lee, was probably the most exciting part of the show, but even he was held back most of the time. When he finally got to fight, the show came alive. The problem was, those moments did not happen often enough.
The Black Beauty was another highlight. It had the look, the gadgets, and the mystery. But again, the show often seemed more interested in the crime story than in the hero, the car, or the action.
Maybe that is why The Green Hornet only lasted one season. It had all the ingredients: the mask, the partner, the car, and the theme. But compared to the colorful fun of Batman, The Green Hornet played it much straighter. As a kid, I wanted excitement. What I got felt more like homework with a cool car parked outside.
