Before she became the oldest Brady daughter, Maureen McCormick was causing trouble for Darrin Stephens! In Bewitched’s 1965 Halloween episode “Trick or Treat,” she played Endora disguised as a little girl. That innocent face? Don’t fall for it.
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And she was already selling us toys! Maureen appeared in Barbie and Chatty Cathy commercials before The Brady Bunch. One Chatty Cathy ad even featured her future TV sister, Eve Plumb. Marcia and Jan—before they were Marcia and Jan!
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It’s funny watching these old commercials now and recognizing faces we’d soon know so well. We thought we were watching the dolls!
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Did you recognize Maureen on Bewitched? And do you remember those Barbie and Chatty Cathy commercials?
Category: 1960’s
These Skeletons Terrified Me! Jason and the Argonauts
I was five when I saw this in the theatre, and it terrified me! I mean, if the skeletons are already dead, how do you stop them?
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The skeleton battle in Jason and the Argonauts (1963) stayed with me—and learning how it was made makes it even more remarkable. Ray Harryhausen brought those skeletons to life through stop-motion animation, moving the models a tiny amount between photographs. The sequence took four and a half months to animate. Some days, he produced less than one second of finished footage.
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Four and a half months to make it. About six seconds to scare me!
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But here’s my favorite part: the filmmakers wrestled with the same question I had at five. How DO you kill something that’s already dead?
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Their solution was to have Jason jump off a cliff into the sea, with the skeletons following him. Harryhausen’s explanation? “We assumed that they couldn’t swim.”
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To film the plunge, the crew actually threw seven plaster skeletons off the cliff after the stuntman jumped. They had to get it right the first time because they couldn’t retrieve them. Harryhausen later wrote that those plaster bones were still somewhere down there in the sea.
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So my five-year-old self was asking the same question as the people making the movie. Their solution was to throw the problem into the ocean!
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Do you remember these skeletons? What movie terrified you when you were little?
The Three Stooges Go to Work for Dickies—1969
I vaguely remember this commercial starring the Three Stooges. At the time, I had no idea what Dickies workwear was, but as a kid, it sure had a funny name—fitting for the Three Stooges!
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This commercial premiered on ABC on May 31, 1969, with Moe Howard, Larry Fine, and Curly Joe DeRita turning a construction site into the kind of workplace you’d probably want to keep your distance from. If you’re selling clothes that can take a beating, hiring these three makes pretty good sense!
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That’s Curly Joe, who joined the team in 1958. Many of us knew the earlier Stooges from television reruns, so seeing different faces in the third spot could get confusing. Those reruns gave the boys a whole new audience of kids after their long run making movie shorts.
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Dickies was already an established company by then, having started in Fort Worth, Texas, in 1922. The name that made me laugh actually came from founding partner E. E. “Colonel” Dickie. Their famous 874 work pants debuted in 1967, just two years before this commercial.
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There’s something a little bittersweet about watching it now. In January 1970, Larry suffered a stroke while filming Kook’s Tour, effectively bringing this version of the team’s performing career to an end.
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I might not have remembered what they were selling, but I remembered the Stooges—and that funny name. Do you remember this commercial, and who was your favorite Stooge?
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Gomer Pyle Sings — The Voice Nobody Expected
Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C. was mandatory viewing in our house. My dad was a Marine sergeant, so there was no missing it.
Like everyone else, I knew Gomer for the “Shazam!”, the “Goooolly!”, and the way he could drive Sergeant Carter absolutely crazy. That was the Gomer we expected every week.
What I didn’t expect was that voice.
The first time I remember hearing Jim Nabors really sing, everybody in our house stopped and paid attention. That huge baritone just didn’t seem possible coming from the same guy we knew as Gomer Pyle.
What I learned later is that television audiences had actually heard Nabors sing before Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C. even premiered. He showed off that voice on The Andy Griffith Show in 1964, and by 1965 Columbia Records had released his first album, Shazam!
By 1967, the show was fully embracing Jim Nabors the singer, including his powerful performance of “The Impossible Dream.”
That contrast is what made him so memorable to me. One minute he was making us laugh, and the next he could stop the room with that voice.
I still remember everyone in our house listening — including my Marine-sergeant dad.
Do you remember the first time you heard Gomer Pyle sing?
Remember Hush Puppies?
Looking at this old Hush Puppies commercial, I had to wonder — are they even still around?
Turns out they certainly are.
This commercial comes from Hush Puppies’ 1964 campaign, “We’re making the sidewalks softer this year.” And they didn’t just say it. They actually had people walking across sidewalks that seemed to sink under their feet.
I found out they created the effect by painting and scoring pieces of foam rubber so they looked like real sidewalk. Pretty clever for 1964. World Radio History
Hush Puppies had only been introduced in 1958, but they caught on incredibly fast. By 1963, an estimated one in ten American adults owned a pair. The whole idea was comfort — soft brushed pigskin, cushiony soles and a casual shoe you didn’t mind keeping on after work. TTABVUE
And of course there was that basset hound. Even if you never owned Hush Puppies, chances are you knew the dog.
The brand faded from the spotlight for a while, then had another surprising moment in the 1990s when Hush Puppies suddenly became fashionable again and even received a CFDA fashion award in 1995. The Washington Post
And yes, you can still buy them today. Wolverine Worldwide still lists Hush Puppies among its brands, with about 8 million pairs sold annually across 120 countries. Wolverine Worldwide
Not bad for a shoe that once promised to make the sidewalk softer.
Did you or your parents ever own a pair of Hush Puppies?
Saturday Morning Cartoons in 1965
It’s Saturday morning in 1965. You’ve got a bowl of your favorite cereal in front of you, the cartoons are on, and you have absolutely nowhere else you need to be.
So what are you watching?
The Beatles had become so huge that by 1965 they had their own Saturday morning cartoon. The funny part? John, Paul, George and Ringo didn’t provide their speaking voices — although when the music started, you heard the real Beatles recordings.
Then there was Atom Ant — “Up and at ’em, Atom Ant!” — a tiny Hanna-Barbera superhero with enough strength to take on just about anything.
Secret Squirrel gave us Agent 000, essentially a kid-friendly James Bond complete with trench coat, gadgets and Morocco Mole by his side.
And Milton the Monster may have had my favorite premise of the bunch. Professor Weirdo tried to create the perfect frightening monster, but accidentally added too much “tincture of tenderness.” The result was Milton — a monster who looked scary but was really a big softie.
Saturday mornings were different then. You watched what was on when it was on, and if you missed it, you waited until it came around again.
The Beatles, Atom Ant, Secret Squirrel or Milton the Monster — which one would you have been watching?
And what cereal was in your bowl?
Why Did Kids Have to Be Warned About Blasting Caps?
I remember seeing these warnings as a kid. They showed us what blasting caps looked like and told us never to touch one. Even then, I wondered: Why would I ever find one? Why weren’t the adults keeping them locked up?
We recently posted an old public service announcement with Willie Mays warning kids about blasting caps. Seeing it again brought that question right back. The warnings weren’t limited to Boy Scout posters, either. They appeared in films, public service announcements and other safety materials.
The danger was real. An explosives industry report said six boys were injured in five blasting cap incidents in 1989. Its conclusion was that the injuries apparently resulted from adults storing the caps improperly or illegally. A later report described children finding caps beside a road, near a park and even during a school trip to a lighthouse in Connecticut.
Of course kids needed to know: don’t touch one, and tell an adult. But that warning only came into play after someone had left a dangerous explosive where a child could find it.
We don’t see those old television spots much anymore, although the “Don’t Touch” warning still exists. I’m glad Willie Mays told kids to be careful. I just wish the adults handling the blasting caps had always been as careful.
Do you remember seeing these warnings growing up? Did you ever wonder why kids needed them in the first place?
“WHAT IS THIS, SOME SORT OF PEYTON PLACE?”
This was a little before my time, but I certainly remember my parents and other adults saying, “What is this, some sort of Peyton Place?”
For years I understood what they meant even if I didn’t really know why they were saying it.
Take a look at this 1964-65 opening to Peyton Place. A church steeple. Bells ringing. A peaceful little New England town. Then that wonderfully serious voice announces, “This is the continuing story of Peyton Place.”
Everything looks so respectable.
And that was the joke.
Behind those neat houses and small-town manners were affairs, family secrets, violence, alcoholism, mental breakdowns and murder. Peyton Place became so culturally famous that the name itself turned into shorthand for a seemingly respectable place where everybody had something going on behind closed doors. New Hampshire Magazine notes that “Peyton Place” had already become a synonym for scandal after Grace Metalious’ hugely successful 1956 novel.
The television version arrived on ABC on September 15, 1964, starring Dorothy Malone, Mia Farrow, Ryan O’Neal, Barbara Parkins and Ed Nelson. It was revolutionary television — a continuing prime-time story airing not once but twice each week. It became so popular that ABC eventually bumped it up to three nights a week.
And here’s something I never knew about this opening. The announcer is Dick Tufeld. One year later, television audiences would know that same voice as the Robot on Lost in Space — yes, the man behind “Danger, Will Robinson!”
Even the music has history. The theme was composed by Franz Waxman, who had also scored the 1957 Peyton Place movie.
The series lasted until June 2, 1969, producing an incredible 514 episodes.
But I think its greatest legacy may be that the show’s name escaped television entirely.
For a whole generation, you didn’t need to explain the gossip, secrets or drama.
You just called the place “Peyton Place.”
Do you remember your parents saying that — and did you know what they meant even if you’d never watched the show?
LOOK AT US NOW — WHEN LINCOLN-MERCURY BUILT LAND YACHTS
Looking back at this commercial, you can see exactly how our cars got called land yachts.
This is Lincoln-Mercury showing off its 1969 models, and just watch these things move through the streets. Long hood. Long trunk. Chrome everywhere. Whitewalls. Hidden headlights. They don’t look like they’re driving — they look like they’re sailing.
And they really were enormous.
A 1969 Mercury Marquis stretched 224.3 inches long. That’s 18 feet, 8 inches of automobile, riding on a 124-inch wheelbase and measuring nearly 80 inches wide. The convertible could weigh around 4,550 pounds.
Then you opened the hood and found a 429-cubic-inch — seven-liter — V8, rated at 320 gross horsepower, with a 360-horsepower version available.
Even the wood-paneled Colony Park station wagon you see cruising along in this commercial was over 18 feet long.
But here’s something I found interesting: “land yacht” wasn’t always entirely an insult. These huge American cars were designed to give you that soft, effortless, floating highway ride. You weren’t supposed to feel every corner in the road. You were supposed to sit back on that huge bench seat and cruise.
And listen to that jingle:
“Lincoln-Mercury Leads the Way.”
It actually started as “Step to the Rear,” a song written by Elmer Bernstein and Carolyn Leigh for the Broadway musical How Now, Dow Jones. Singer Marilyn Maye recorded it, and Lincoln-Mercury hired her to rerecord the song with advertising lyrics. She continued singing the campaign for several years.
Lincoln-Mercury really committed to this campaign, too. For one commercial shoot in 1968, they constructed a 67-foot-long, 31-foot-high “Lincoln Mercury Leads the Way” sign on an offshore island and used a helicopter to get equipment there.
Everything about this era was big.
The cars, the engines, the advertising — and apparently even the signs.
Did your family have one of these giant cars — and what was the biggest “land yacht” you remember riding in?
Branded
I remember Branded, but what sticks with me most isn’t the stories—it’s that theme song.
And I also remember that we had all kinds of our own reworded versions of it as kids. I can’t remember exactly what ours were anymore, but I know we weren’t singing the real words!
Branded premiered on NBC on January 24, 1965, starring Chuck Connors as former U.S. Army Captain Jason McCord. The entire premise was explained before the episode even started:
McCord was the only survivor of the Battle of Bitter Creek. Because everyone else had died, the Army concluded that he had abandoned his men and fled. He was court-martialed, stripped of his rank and publicly drummed out of the cavalry as a coward.
But McCord wasn’t a coward.
The tragedy had actually resulted from decisions made by his commanding officer, and McCord refused to disgrace the dead by publicly revealing everything he knew. So wherever he went, people knew him as the man who supposedly ran away, and each episode gave him another chance to prove what kind of man he really was.
And that opening was hard to forget — his insignia ripped off, his buttons removed, his sword broken in half and the fort gates slammed behind him.
The theme was written by composer Dominic Frontiere with lyrics by Alan Alch. Frontiere also supplied music for the series. The song was unusual because instead of simply introducing the show, it told you the whole setup in less than a minute.
Branded lasted only two seasons and 48 episodes, ending April 24, 1966. And here’s something I never realized: the television series never gave Jason McCord the big final exoneration the whole story seemed to be building toward. The show simply ended.
Interestingly, a feature-film reworking of the three-part episode The Mission, released as Broken Sabre, reportedly gave McCord a happier resolution in that version — but viewers of the weekly television series never got that ending.
For me, though, it still comes back to that song.
I know we weren’t the only kids who changed the words to the Branded theme. What version do YOU remember singing?