1960's Archives - Page 9 of 24 - Retro Reminiscing Video and Pictures

Did you have Shark Pack?

I felt that changing the discs to make it do different maneuvers meant you might as well have pushed it by hand. Was I wrong?

Shark Pack was a 1970s toy boat line from Ideal, and the big feature was its interchangeable program discs. Instead of radio control, you put in a disc, set the boat loose, and it would follow a preset pattern, turning or circling depending on which disc you used.

For the time, that was a pretty clever idea. It gave kids a way to “program” the boat before home computers and remote-control toys became common. The commercial made it look exciting, with the boats cutting through the water and changing direction on command.

Like a lot of toys from that era, the real fun probably depended on where you used it and what you expected from it. If you had a pool, pond, or enough room to let it run, Shark Pack may have been a lot of fun. If you were expecting total control, the disc-changing part may have felt a little less magical.

That’s why I’m curious. Did Shark Pack really live up to the ad, or was it one of those toys that looked better on TV?

Mighty Mouse: Here He Comes To Save The Day

Mighty Mouse Playhouse first aired on CBS Saturday mornings, beginning December 10, 1955. That date is important because the show helped put the idea of Saturday morning cartoons on the map.

Mighty Mouse had actually started earlier in theatrical cartoons from Terrytoons, debuting in the 1942 short The Mouse of Tomorrow. But TV is what made him a household name. CBS repackaged the older Mighty Mouse cartoons for television, and suddenly kids could see him right at home instead of at the movie theater.

The show had everything kids loved: a tiny hero with super strength, flying rescues, villains, danger, and that unforgettable theme line: “Here I come to save the day!” Mighty Mouse usually showed up just in time to save the helpless and defeat the bad guys.

Looking back, Mighty Mouse Playhouse feels simple now, but it was a big deal. It helped prove that Saturday morning could belong to kids, cereal bowls, pajamas, and cartoons.

The Time Tunnel: Friday Night Time Travel in 1966

If you were watching ABC on Friday nights in 1966, you might remember The Time Tunnel, one of those big-concept science fiction shows that seemed made for kids and adults who liked a little adventure with their history.

The series premiered on Friday, September 9, 1966, and ran for one season. It came from producer Irwin Allen, the same name behind shows like Lost in Space and Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea, so you knew there would be danger, dramatic music, flashing control rooms, and cliffhangers.

The story followed two scientists, Dr. Tony Newman, played by James Darren, and Dr. Doug Phillips, played by Robert Colbert. They become trapped in time after entering a secret government time-travel project. Back at the Time Tunnel control center, the scientists could see where they were, but could not always bring them home.

That was the hook. Each week, Tony and Doug landed in a different moment in history. Sometimes it was the distant past, sometimes a famous disaster, sometimes a war, and sometimes a future setting. For a young viewer, it felt like history class had been turned into an adventure serial.

The show only lasted 30 episodes, ending in April 1967, but it had the kind of idea that stayed with people. Two men lost in time, jumping from one crisis to another, while everyone back at the tunnel tried to save them.

Looking back, The Time Tunnel had that unmistakable 1960s TV sci-fi feel: colorful sets, serious scientists, dramatic countdowns, and a sense that anything could happen once the tunnel started glowing.

Did you watch The Time Tunnel when it first aired, or did you find it later in reruns? And did you ever think Tony and Doug were actually going to make it home?

Before Snoopy Was Shaving Ice, There Was Ice Bird

Before the Snoopy Sno-Cone Machine became the one everyone remembers, Kenner had Ice Bird, a 1974 toy that promised kids they could make their own icy treats at home.

The idea was simple and very 1970s: put in the ice, shave it down, pack it into little balls, and pour on the flavored syrup. Suddenly, you weren’t just eating a frozen treat. You were running your own little snowball stand from the kitchen table.

The commercial made it look easy, clean, and exciting, which is exactly what a good toy commercial was supposed to do. But like a lot of food-making toys from that era, the big question is whether it worked as well in real life as it did on TV. Did the ice shave smoothly? Did the syrup go everywhere? Did you end up with a perfect treat, or just a sticky mess?

Still, Ice Bird had that great kid-powered appeal. It took something ordinary, ice from the freezer, and turned it into something that felt special. And for a kid watching Saturday morning cartoons, “make your own ice balls” sounded like a pretty big deal.

Did you have Ice Bird? And did it live up to the commercial?

It’s Thursday night in 1966/67. What’s on ABC?

It’s Thursday night in 1966/67. What’s on ABC? Bewitch at 8:30, Love on a Rooftop at 9:00 and That Girl at 9:30.

When Even Toilet Paper Had Style

Today, designers tell us how to fluff a couch, karate chop a throw pillow, stack coffee table books, and make a room look “curated.”

But somehow, we lost designer toilet paper.

Back in the 60s and 70s, bathrooms had personality. Pink sinks, blue tubs, avocado tile, fuzzy toilet lid covers, and yes, toilet paper that matched. You could buy pastel rolls and even printed patterns to go with the bathroom decor.

Nobody needed a TV designer to explain it. Mom knew. Grandma knew. The toilet paper matched the room.

Then colored toilet paper faded away. Concerns over dyes, perfumes, septic systems, the environment, and cost helped make plain white the standard.

Now everything in the house can be designer, except the one thing that used to quietly tie the whole bathroom together.

Maybe the 70s had it right after all.

Who had a Secret Sam?

With all it could do, there were still many other toys I wanted more. I remember seeing the commercials and thinking it looked impressive, but I wasn’t sure it would live up to the way it looked on TV.

Secret Sam was a Topper Toys spy set from the mid-1960s, right when James Bond, The Man from U.N.C.L.E., and secret-agent gadgets were everywhere. The big item was the Secret Sam Attaché Case, a black briefcase that hid a toy gun setup inside. It could be used as a pistol, converted into a rifle, fitted with a silencer, and even fired from inside the case. Some versions also had a message missile and a small working camera.

So did it live up to expectations? Probably yes if you were deep into spy play and had a good imagination. But if you expected it to work exactly like a TV spy gadget, maybe not. Like a lot of toys from that era, the commercial did most of the heavy lifting.

Looking back, Secret Sam was the kind of toy that looked incredible under the Christmas tree, but the real fun depended on how much secret-agent adventure you could create around it.

Speedline Race Cars: The Hot Wheels Rival

Many of you asked about these when I posted the Hot Wheels advertisement. So now I have to ask: which did you have? Hot Wheels, Matchbox, Speedline, or all of them?

Speedline race cars were part of that late-19660s toy-car boom, when every company wanted a piece of the racing action. Hot Wheels had the orange track and wild colors, Matchbox had the more realistic little cars, and Speedline tried to get into the race with its own fast-looking cars and track sets.

They never became as famous as Hot Wheels, but that’s what makes them fun to remember. Some kids had the big names. Some had the off-brand or lesser-known racers. And honestly, when you were on the floor setting up races, it didn’t always matter what brand was stamped underneath. If the car was fast, it made the lineup.

For a lot of us, these little cars were more than toys. They were races across the living room, arguments over whose car won, and the beginning of a car collection before we even knew we were collecting.

So which ones were in your house?

Here’s Lucy

Here’s Lucy kept Lucille Ball on Monday night TV with the same kind of physical comedy, celebrity guest stars, and family-style chaos that made her a television legend. This time, Lucy Carter was a widow working for her brother-in-law Harry, played by Gale Gordon, while her real-life children Lucie Arnaz and Desi Arnaz Jr. played her kids.

The show had that familiar Lucy formula: a simple situation gets out of control, Lucy gets into trouble, Harry gets frustrated, and somehow the whole thing turns into comedy. It also became known for big guest stars, including classic Hollywood and TV names, which made each episode feel like a little variety-show surprise.

For fans, Here’s Lucy was not just another sitcom. It was Lucille Ball proving she could still carry a hit show after I Love Lucy and The Lucy Show, while bringing her own family into the act.

Reddy Kilowatt: The Little Electric Man Who Got Expensive

Never did I think when they were pushing Reddy Kilowatt that he would end up representing such a large portion of people’s monthly bills.

Reddy Kilowatt was the smiling cartoon mascot for electric companies for much of the 20th century. He was created in 1926 by Ashton B. Collins Sr., a commercial manager for the Alabama Power Company, as a way to give electricity a friendly face. After all, electricity itself was invisible, but Reddy made it look cheerful, modern, safe, and ready to work.

His design was clever: lightning-bolt arms and legs, a light-bulb nose, wall outlets for ears, gloves, shoes, and a big smile. He was often promoted as “Your Electric Servant,” back when electric companies were trying to sell the idea that more electricity meant more comfort, convenience, and progress.

Reddy showed up in ads, school materials, recipe books, buttons, signs, utility trucks, safety campaigns, and even promotional items. By the late 1950s and 1960s, hundreds of utility companies around the world had licensed him. He helped sell everything from electric heat to appliances to the general idea that the modern home should run on electricity.

Looking back, Reddy is a perfect little time capsule. He came from an era when electricity was being sold as the future, and in many ways, it was. But today, when the electric bill shows up, that smiling little lightning man feels a little different.

He was once the friendly face of convenience.

Now he might be the mascot for opening the bill and saying, “How much?”