childhood memories Archives - Retro Reminiscing Video and Pictures

CBS Cartoon Theatre

CBS Cartoon Theatre was a short-lived CBS cartoon showcase from 1956, best remembered today because it was hosted by a young Dick Van Dyke before The Dick Van Dyke Show made him a household name.

CBS had bought the Terrytoons library in the mid-1950s, which gave them characters like Mighty Mouse, Heckle and Jeckle, Gandy Goose, and other theatrical cartoons they could repackage for television. CBS Cartoon Theatre was basically a way to put those cartoons on TV with a friendly live-action host wrapping around them. IMDb describes it as a CBS summer replacement show built around the newly acquired Terrytoons cartoons.

What makes it interesting is that CBS tried it in prime time, not just Saturday morning. A TV-history write-up says the show debuted on June 13, 1956, airing in the early evening in some markets, with Dick Van Dyke hosting.

Looking back, it feels like a bridge between old theatrical cartoons and the Saturday morning cartoon era. These weren’t originally made as “TV cartoons.” They were movie-theater shorts being recycled for a new generation sitting in the living room.

The fun part is seeing Dick Van Dyke in that early host role. CBS apparently had him under contract and was still figuring out what to do with him. A few years later, of course, everyone knew exactly what to do with him.

“Muncha buncha, muncha buncha, Fritos go with lunch!”

It was catchy, silly, and easy for kids to repeat, which is exactly what made old snack commercials work. A plain lunch suddenly felt more exciting when you added a bag of Fritos.

That was the charm of the campaign. It did not need a complicated story. It was just a happy little reminder that Fritos were salty, crunchy, and perfect next to a sandwich.

You’re singing it now, aren’t cha?

Smokey Bear’s Creepiest PSA?

Before CGI, jump scares, and viral ads, Smokey Bear managed to give some of us a double take with one strange little public service announcement. Actress Joanna Cassidy calmly warned viewers about forest fires, then removed her red-haired “mask” to reveal she was actually Smokey Bear underneath.

It was supposed to remind us that everyone has a part to play in preventing forest fires. But if you saw it as a kid, you probably remembered the face-removal trick just as much as the message.

Effective? Absolutely.

A little creepy? Also absolutely.

“My dog’s bigger than your dog, my dog’s faster than yours!”

https://www.theretrosite.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/05/Ken-L-ration.mp4

Here’s another earworm from the ’70s to get stuck in your head for the rest of the day.

Ken-L Ration was one of the big names in dog food for decades, dating back to the 1920s. The brand became known for canned dog food and later dry food, but most of us remember it because of that insanely catchy commercial jingle.

The song was based on “My Dog’s Bigger Than Your Dog” by folk singer Tom Paxton, and the ad turned it into a playground-style brag between kids. The idea was simple: my dog is bigger, faster, shinier, and better because he eats Ken-L Ration.

It was the kind of jingle advertisers loved because you didn’t just hear it — you repeated it. Kids could sing it, parents remembered it, and the brand name was baked right into the hook.

Ken-L Ration was eventually owned by Quaker Oats and later sold to H.J. Heinz in the 1990s, but the product faded from store shelves. The jingle, though? That survived. For a lot of us, all it takes is one line:

“My dog’s bigger than your dog…”

…and suddenly the whole thing comes running back like a dog hearing the can opener.

Probably no toy gave me more joy than Hot Wheels.

It was great the first day you got the track, but the fun didn’t stop there. A new car didn’t cost all that much, even for a kid, and suddenly the whole race changed. One new car meant new matchups, new winners, new arguments, and another reason to reset the track and try again.

Hot Wheels were introduced by Mattel in 1968, created to compete with Matchbox, but they had a completely different attitude. Matchbox cars looked more like regular cars you’d see on the road. Hot Wheels looked like something a kid dreamed up: wild colors, big wheels, racing stripes, spoilers, flames, and hot rod styling. The first line is remembered as the “Original 16” or “Sweet 16.”

And they were fast. That was the magic. Mattel built them with low-friction wheels and axles, wider hard-plastic tires, and a suspension design that helped them fly down those orange plastic tracks smoother than other little cars of the time. The Strong National Museum of Play notes that Mattel engineers wanted them to “zoom,” using thick plastic mag wheels, minimal-friction axles, and torsion-bar suspension.

Then came the tracks. If you got a new setup, like the one with the Super Charger, it worked with the track you already had. That was the genius of it. You didn’t have to start over. You just added on. A curve here, a loop there, a launcher, a jump, and suddenly your living room floor became Daytona, Indy, and a demolition derby all at once.

Looking back, Hot Wheels were a great value because every piece made the whole thing better. One car could change the race. One track set could change the whole afternoon. And for a kid, that little orange track and one fast car were enough to make the whole room feel like a speedway.

ABC Promotes Combat!

An hour after posting the intro, I thought it would be fitting to share this old ABC commercial for Combat!.

TV promos back then were simple, but they knew how to sell a show. A few dramatic scenes, serious narration, and suddenly you knew Tuesday night meant war drama, danger, and another mission with Sgt. Saunders and Lt. Hanley.

Combat! aired on ABC from 1962 to 1967 and followed a frontline American infantry squad during World War II. The show starred Vic Morrow and Rick Jason, with stories that often went beyond the usual good guys versus bad guys setup. It showed soldiers tired, scared, angry, loyal, and still trying to hold on to their humanity in the middle of war.

This promo is also a time capsule of how television used to treat war dramas. It was entertainment, yes, but it carried a seriousness that made it feel different. The Greatest Generation was still very much present in American life when this aired, and many viewers did not need the show to explain what sacrifice meant.

Posting this on Memorial Day feels right. Not because a TV show can fully capture what they went through, but because it reminds us how much World War II shaped the families, fathers, uncles, neighbors, and veterans many of us grew up around.

Remembering Combat! On Memorial Day

Since this is Memorial Day, I thought the intro to Combat! was worth sharing.

This was another one of those shows a lot of our dads watched. To a kid, it looked like an action show: soldiers, rifles, tanks, explosions, and that serious opening that told you this was not going to be a cartoon-style adventure.

But Combat! was different from a lot of TV war shows. It followed an American infantry squad fighting through Europe during World War II, and it often focused less on glory and more on fear, loss, duty, and the bond between men trying to survive. The series aired on ABC from 1962 to 1967, starring Vic Morrow as Sgt. Saunders and Rick Jason as Lt. Hanley. It ran for five seasons and 152 episodes, making it one of television’s longest-running World War II dramas.

Looking back, I can understand why Dad watched it. Many in that generation either served, knew someone who served, or grew up in the shadow of World War II. For kids, we saw the uniforms and action. For them, there was probably a lot more behind it.

On Memorial Day, Combat! is a reminder that the Greatest Generation was not made up of movie heroes. They were young men asked to do impossible things, many of whom never came home.

The Rat Patrol

The Rat Patrol was another one of those shows Dad loved to watch, and to a kid, it sure looked promising. Jeeps tearing across the desert, guns mounted in the back, bombs going off, aircraft overhead — it had all the ingredients that should have grabbed a young viewer right away.

But at that age, the dialogue went right over my head. I was there for the action, not the strategy. The show followed a small Allied commando unit during World War II, racing through the North African desert and taking on German forces in fast-moving missions. It was part war show, part adventure series, and part Saturday afternoon action movie squeezed into a half-hour.

The Rat Patrol aired from 1966 to 1968 and starred Christopher George as Sgt. Sam Troy. One of the more interesting cast members was Hans Gudegast, who played German Capt. Dietrich. Soap fans would later know him much better as Eric Braeden from The Young and the Restless.

The show was loosely inspired by real desert raiding units like the British SAS and the Long Range Desert Group, but Hollywood gave it a very American spin. That bothered some viewers overseas because the real North African desert raids were largely a British and Commonwealth story, while the TV version put American characters front and center. The BBC reportedly pulled the show after only a few episodes because of complaints about that Americanized version of the war.

Looking back, I can see why Dad liked it. It had action, military drama, and just enough grit to feel grown-up. For us kids, it was the jeeps and explosions that pulled us in, even if we didn’t always understand what they were talking about once the shooting stopped.

From Scary To Racist

Post Rice Krinkles is one of those cereals that makes you wonder what exactly was going on in the advertising room.

It started as Sugar Rice Krinkles, a sweet puffed rice cereal, and Post first sold it with circus-style ads and Krinkles the Clown. Back then, clowns were still considered fun, friendly, and perfect for kids. Looking at him now, though, he has that unsettling “why is this staring at me during breakfast?” energy.

Then around 1960, Post replaced the clown with So-Hi, a small Asian boy character used to sell a rice cereal. The name was a play on “so high,” because he was short, but the character leaned hard into Asian stereotypes that would never fly today. It was the kind of lazy advertising shortcut that was common at the time: rice cereal, so they reached for an Asian caricature.

And no, this did not evolve into Snap, Crackle, and Pop. That was Kellogg’s Rice Krispies, a different cereal from a different company. Post Rice Krinkles was more connected to Post’s later rice cereal ideas, especially the road that eventually led toward Pebbles.

So it basically went from creepy clown to racial stereotype, all in the name of making cereal memorable to kids. And that’s the part that sticks out today. These mascots were meant to be cute and catchy, but looking back, they show how different, and often tone-deaf, advertising could be.

Rice Krinkles eventually faded away by the end of the 1960s, but the mascots are still remembered because they’re so bizarre. One scared kids by accident. The other should have made adults know better.

Stop the Pigeon!

Dastardly and Muttley in Their Flying Machines was one of those cartoons built around one simple idea that somehow worked every time: stop the pigeon.

The show came from Hanna-Barbera in 1969 and brought back Dick Dastardly and Muttley from Wacky Races. This time, they were part of the Vulture Squadron, flying ridiculous contraptions and trying every week to catch Yankee Doodle Pigeon.

Of course, they never did.

The real star was Muttley. That wheezy little laugh was funnier than half the script, and his constant demand for medals made him even better. Dastardly would scheme, Muttley would snicker, the plane would fall apart, and the pigeon would fly away.

Looking back, most of us probably weren’t rooting for the pigeon. We were watching for Dastardly to lose his temper, Muttley to laugh, and that theme song to get stuck in our heads all over again.

Stop the pigeon, stop the pigeon!