baby boomer memories Archives - Page 2 of 8 - Retro Reminiscing Video and Pictures

Clarabell’s Big Surprise

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?

Small Shots: Mattel’s Hot Wheels Dolls

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.

Dairy Queen and the Cartoon Rock-and-Roll Sell

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.

Why The Green Hornet Never Quite Worked For Me

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.

Did You See the U.S.A. in Your Chevrolet?

“See the U.S.A. in Your Chevrolet” was one of those ads that did more than sell a car. It sold the idea of getting out on the road.

The song became closely tied to Dinah Shore, who sang it on her Chevrolet-sponsored television shows in the 1950s. By the time she smiled into the camera and sang about seeing America from a Chevy, the line was already becoming part of American TV memory.

It worked because it was simple. A friendly singer, a catchy tune, a shiny Chevrolet, and the idea that the whole country was waiting for you. You did not need a complicated sales pitch. The song did the work.

The ad also fit the time. After World War II, more families had cars, highways were expanding, and road trips became part of American life. Chevrolet was not just saying “buy our car.” It was saying, “This is how you see America.”

For many viewers, the jingle stuck for decades. Even if you did not own a Chevrolet, you probably knew the tune. That is the sign of a great commercial: people remembered the song long after they forgot the model year.

The Rifleman

If you grew up on TV westerns, The Rifleman was one of the shows that stood out right from the opening.

The series premiered on ABC on Tuesday, September 30, 1958, and ran until April 8, 1963. It aired for five seasons, with 168 black-and-white episodes, starring Chuck Connors as Lucas McCain and Johnny Crawford as his son, Mark.

The story was set in the fictional town of North Fork, New Mexico Territory, where Lucas McCain was a widowed rancher raising his son while also helping keep order when trouble came to town. He was not the sheriff, but with that specially modified Winchester rifle, he was usually the man everyone looked to when things got dangerous.

What made the show different was the father-and-son relationship. Yes, there were outlaws, gunfights, cattlemen, drifters, and plenty of western action, but at the center of it was Lucas trying to raise Mark with a strong sense of right and wrong. For a half-hour western, it often had a lot of heart.

And then there was that opening. Lucas McCain walking into the street and firing that rifle so fast it almost became the show’s signature before the story even began. If you watched it as a kid, that image stayed with you.

The Rifleman had the action kids wanted, but it also had a moral lesson built into many episodes. Lucas was tough, but he was also a father first. That gave the show something a little different from the usual shoot-’em-up western.

Did you watch The Rifleman when it first aired, or did you catch it later in reruns? And were you more interested in the fast rifle, or the way Lucas and Mark stuck together?

The Cisco Kid: One of TV’s First Color Westerns

Before television westerns filled the schedule in the 1950s, The Cisco Kid was already riding into living rooms.

The TV series began in 1950 and ran until 1956, starring Duncan Renaldo as Cisco and Leo Carrillo as his cheerful sidekick, Pancho. It was a syndicated show, so unlike a regular network series, the exact day and time could vary depending on the local station. The commonly listed television debut is Tuesday, September 5, 1950. The series ran for 156 half-hour episodes.

Cisco and Pancho were not the usual stiff western heroes. They had charm, humor, and a Robin Hood quality. They often helped people who were being cheated, bullied, or ignored by corrupt officials. The show was especially popular with children, who loved the horses, the action, the jokes between Cisco and Pancho, and the feeling that the good guys would always ride away smiling.

One thing that made The Cisco Kid stand out is that it was filmed in color, even though most families watching in the early 1950s were still seeing it on black-and-white television sets. That helped the show live on in reruns for years, especially once color TV became more common.

And of course, many people remember the playful ending: “Oh, Cisco!” “Oh, Pancho!” followed by the two riding off together. It was light, fun, and easy for kids to imitate.

Looking back, The Cisco Kid had the feel of an early TV western made for young viewers: simple stories, clear villains, loyal friends, fast horses, and a hero who could outsmart the bad guys without losing his smile.

Did you watch The Cisco Kid when it first aired, or did you catch it later in reruns? And did you ever find yourself saying, “Oh, Cisco!” or “Oh, Pancho!”?

The Lone Ranger: “Hi-Yo, Silver!” and the TV Western That Started Early

Before TV westerns took over the 1950s, The Lone Ranger was already riding across the small screen.

The series premiered on ABC on Thursday, September 15, 1949, making it one of the early major television westerns. It ran until 1957, with 221 episodes over five seasons. Clayton Moore played the Lone Ranger for most of the series, with Jay Silverheels as Tonto. John Hart briefly took over the role of the Lone Ranger during part of the run.

The character had already been famous from radio, but television gave kids the mask, the white horse, the silver bullets, and that famous call: “Hi-Yo, Silver!” The setup was simple and memorable. A Texas Ranger survives an ambush, puts on a mask, and rides with Tonto to fight outlaws and help people in trouble.

Looking back, The Lone Ranger had everything a kid could want in a western: a hero with a secret identity, a loyal horse, a trusted partner, clear-cut villains, and a story where good usually won before the half hour was over. It wasn’t complicated, and that was part of the appeal.

For many viewers, Clayton Moore became the Lone Ranger. He carried the role so strongly that even decades later, people still pictured him when they heard the William Tell Overture or the words, “Who was that masked man?”

Did you watch The Lone Ranger when it first aired, or did you catch it later in reruns? And when you heard “Hi-Yo, Silver, away!” did you want a mask and a horse of your own?

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.