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?
Tag: childhood memories
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?
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?
FUNYUNS — THE SNACK THAT ALMOST WASN’T CALLED FUNYUNS
This commercial takes me right back to when a bag of Funyuns seemed like one of the strangest snacks in the chip aisle. They looked like little onion rings, tasted like onions and even had a name that sounded like somebody made it up on the spot. As it turns out, somebody pretty much did!
Funyuns were introduced by Frito-Lay in 1969, created by employee George Wade Bigner. But here’s something I never knew: Funyuns weren’t supposed to be called Funyuns. The original name was OnYums, but that name was already taken. Advertising copywriter Jim Albright came up with “Funyuns” instead, and more than half a century later we’re still calling them that.
And listen closely to the music in these early commercials. The tune came from “I Love Onions,” a wonderfully odd 1966 novelty song recorded by Susan Christie. The song actually made the Billboard Hot 100 before its melody was adapted to help sell Funyuns.
Another great connection: in 1971, a young Roger Enrico went to work marketing Funyuns. He eventually became CEO of PepsiCo and was one of the men behind Pepsi’s blockbuster Michael Jackson era. Not a bad career beginning for a guy working on onion-flavored rings!
And yes, Funyuns are still around today.
Happy Meals
Here’s a commercial showing the beginning of something that eventually became such a normal part of childhood that it’s hard to imagine McDonald’s without the Happy Meal.
This commercial is from 1979, the year McDonald’s took the Happy Meal nationwide. But here’s something that confused me at first: the Happy Meal actually dates to both 1977 and 1979.
McDonald’s was already test-marketing Happy Meals in selected cities beginning in 1977, and the company even filed the HAPPY MEAL trademark that year. Those early tests gave McDonald’s time to refine the meal, the packaging and the prizes.
Then in June 1979, the Happy Meal officially went national with the colorful Circus Wagon boxes. That’s why 1979 is usually considered its official birthday.
And those first boxes weren’t tied to Disney, a movie or the latest cartoon. Inside you got a hamburger or cheeseburger, fries, a drink and McDonaldland cookies, along with prizes like an ID bracelet, Doodler ruler or McPuzzle Lock.
I also didn’t realize how complicated the “who invented the Happy Meal?” story was. Advertising executive Bob Bernstein said the activity-covered box was inspired by watching his son read cereal boxes at breakfast. But in Guatemala, McDonald’s operator Yolanda Fernández de Cofiño had already created a smaller children’s meal called the Menú Ronald, complete with a gift.
And McDonald’s wasn’t even the first burger chain to try the idea. Burger Chef introduced its Funmeal in 1973 and later sued McDonald’s over the similarities.
What amazes me is how quickly it all took off. By the end of 1979, McDonald’s was already doing movie tie-ins, and from there the toy became almost as important as the food.
Do you remember your first Happy Meal — and were you more excited about the hamburger or the toy?
Enjoli: The 24-Hour Woman Who Could Bring Home the Bacon
Who remembers “I can bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan…”? Sometimes the commercial becomes more memorable than the product itself, and I think Enjoli is a perfect example
Charles of the Ritz introduced Enjoli in 1978 as “the eight-hour perfume for the 24-hour woman.” The woman in this commercial could go to work, come home, take care of the kids, cook dinner and still have enough energy left for romance. Looking at it today, it’s quite a time capsule of what advertising was telling women they should somehow be able to accomplish
The jingle wasn’t created from scratch for Enjoli either. It was adapted from “I’m a Woman,” written by Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller. Christine Kittrell recorded it first in 1962, but Peggy Lee’s version later that year became the one most of us recognize. Enjoli rewrote the lyrics and turned a song from the early ’60s into one of the most memorable advertising jingles of the late ’70s
And apparently the advertising worked. Enjoli won the Fragrance Foundation’s 1979 Fragrance of the Year award in the Women’s Popular category.
The whole “24-hour woman” idea has become interesting historically too. Writers looking back at the period have used this very commercial when discussing the expectation that women could build careers while still handling most of the work at home
Enjoli even got a sequel of sorts in 1984 with Enjoli Midnight, advertised as a fragrance for “another eight hours in your life”
I’m guessing plenty of people who never owned a bottle of Enjoli can still sing that commercial
Did the jingle come back to you before the commercial was even over?
Who remembers when Bugs Bunny was actually on the Kool-Aid package?
This commercial takes us back to around 1965, when Bugs and Elmer Fudd weren’t just Saturday morning entertainment — they were helping General Foods sell the relatively new Pre-Sweetened Kool-Aid
What I love is that they didn’t just drop the characters into a generic ad. Elmer is still chasing that “wascally wabbit,” Bugs is still one step ahead, and somehow the whole thing turns into a Kool-Aid commercial
Legendary animator Tex Avery, who helped shape Bugs Bunny’s personality years earlier, returned to direct some of these commercials. Mel Blanc was still Bugs, but Elmer was voiced here by Hal Smith, who many of us remember better as Otis Campbell on The Andy Griffith Show
Pre-Sweetened Kool-Aid itself was fairly new, introduced in 1964 so you no longer had to add your own sugar. Bugs became so closely tied to the product that his picture appeared right on the packages
And then this commercial gives us another nearly forgotten memory — Kool-Pops. The frozen treats had been around since at least 1960, giving General Foods another way to turn Kool-Aid into something kids could beg Mom to buy
It’s funny how one short commercial can bring back so much at once — Bugs and Elmer, the old Kool-Aid packets, Kool-Pops, and the days when cartoon characters regularly helped decide what ended up in the grocery cart
Do you remember Bugs Bunny on the Kool-Aid packages — and does anyone remember Kool-Pops?
The Herculoids
How many of you can still name all the Herculoids just from watching this opening? Zok, Igoo, Tundro, Gloop and Gleep — along with Zandor, Tara and Dorno — made for one of the strangest and most memorable groups Hanna-Barbera ever put together
What amazes me is how few episodes there actually were. The Herculoids debuted on CBS in 1967, and only 18 original half-hours were produced, containing 36 shorter adventures. Yet those episodes were rerun enough that the show feels like it was around much longer than it really was. Joseph Barbera later even recalled the series pulling an extraordinary 60 share in the ratings
The incredible look of the show came from Alex Toth, the legendary comic-book artist who helped shape Hanna-Barbera’s adventure cartoons. Toth was also heavily involved with characters and designs for Space Ghost, Birdman, Fantastic Four and other shows that gave Saturday mornings a very different look from Hanna-Barbera’s comedy cartoons
There was some great voice talent hiding behind all those creatures too. Mike Road, who many of us also remember as Race Bannon on Jonny Quest, handled Zandor along with Zok, Igoo and Tundro. Don Messick gave us both Gloop and Gleep before becoming the voice of Scooby-Doo just two years later
And those creatures really were wonderfully bizarre. Tundro had ten legs and fired explosive rocks, Zok shot energy beams, Igoo was essentially a walking rock pile, and Gloop and Gleep could turn themselves into practically whatever the story required — shields, trampolines, parachutes or slingshots
The Herculoids weren’t forgotten either. They crossed paths with Space Ghost, appeared in comics from both DC and Marvel, and returned with 11 brand-new adventures in 1981 as part of Space Stars. Oddly enough, their planet Amzot became Quasar for the revival
For a cartoon with only 18 original half-hours, The Herculoids certainly left a big impression
Who was your favorite — Zok, Igoo, Tundro, Gloop or Gleep?
Tiger Joe
As kids, we used to play army, and this commercial is a pretty good demonstration of what that looked like in the early 1960s. We sometimes make fun of kids today for fighting battles on video-game screens, but there’s an interesting full-circle connection — real warfare now makes extensive use of drones and other remotely controlled systems
The toy is the Tiger Joe Tank, introduced by Deluxe Reading in 1961. This was no little tabletop tank — it was about 26 inches long, moved by wired remote control and actually fired plastic shells. Deluxe even suggested putting a little flour or talcum powder in the barrel to create a puff of “smoke” when it fired
What really caught my attention is the line at the end: “Sold at food markets only.” Deluxe Reading deliberately sold many of its big toys through supermarkets. Those oversized colorful boxes could occupy the hard-to-use upper shelves, putting toys right in front of kids tagging along on the weekly shopping trip
Tiger Joe almost feels more like the kind of present Dad would have picked out, but the marketing actually put it directly in the path of whoever was doing the grocery shopping. I found a 1963 supermarket ad selling Tiger Joe for $12.88 — roughly $140 today — and you could leave a $2 deposit and have one held until Christmas
The company was founded by Henry Orenstein, who years later helped bring the idea that became Transformers to Hasbro
Did anyone get a Tiger Joe for Christmas — or spend the whole grocery trip staring up at one on the top shelf?