childhood memories Archives - Page 3 of 3 - Retro Reminiscing Video and Pictures

Perry Mason’s theme reminds me of bedtime!

I’d hear that song from upstairs, and I’d sneak halfway down the stairs just to peek at Mom’s show. I remember asking why he was sitting there all alone in that big room, because I didn’t understand what a courtroom was or why everyone looked so serious. Mom still tried to explain it to me, even though I’m sure I was bugging her. All she wanted to do was relax and watch a little TV before her own bedtime.

As a kid, I could not understand why Mom watched such a boring show. There were no monsters, no cartoons, no spaceships, and nobody was falling down a well for Lassie to rescue. Just Raymond Burr sitting there as Perry Mason, calmly figuring out who really did it while everyone else in the courtroom waited for him to prove it.

The show originally ran on CBS from 1957 to 1966, with Raymond Burr as defense attorney Perry Mason, Barbara Hale as his secretary Della Street, William Hopper as private detective Paul Drake, and William Talman as district attorney Hamilton Burger. The famous theme was called “Park Avenue Beat” and was written by Fred Steiner. That opening music had a cool, jazzy, serious sound that basically told every kid in the house, “Fun time is over. The adults have taken over the TV.”

The funny part is, despite the show being around forever and becoming one of the most famous courtroom dramas in television history, I don’t think I’ve ever sat down and watched a single full episode. But I still remember that theme like it was yesterday. That was the sound of Mom’s TV time, the sound of being told to go back upstairs, and the sound of knowing bedtime was coming whether I liked it or not.

Lassie

Just hearing the opening whistle brings back a flood of childhood memories of Lassie.
As a kid, I vowed that one day I would get a collie and name her Lassie. Yeah, that never happened. I also didn’t get a dolphin and name it Flipper. But back then, Lassie made it seem like every problem could be solved with loyalty, courage, and a very smart dog who somehow always knew exactly where to go for help.
By 1959, Lassie was deep into the Timmy Martin years, with Jon Provost playing Timmy, June Lockhart as his mother, Ruth Martin, and Hugh Reilly as his father, Paul Martin. June Lockhart would later become another famous TV mom as Maureen Robinson on Lost in Space, but to me, she would always be Lassie and Timmy’s mom.
No matter how serious the problem was, everything seemed to get wrapped up neatly within the 22 minutes of the show. Someone could be lost, trapped, injured, or in danger, and somehow Lassie would bark, run, lead the adults to the right place, and make everything okay again.
And yes, Timmy actually did fall down a well, even though the old joke makes it sound like it happened every week. It happened in the 1960 episode “The Well,” where Timmy ends up trapped and, of course, Lassie has to get help. That one moment became the running gag everyone remembers: “What’s that, Lassie? Timmy fell down the well?”
Having a rough childhood, I always wished I had Timmy’s family. There was something comforting about that show, even if life was not really like anything we saw on TV. The Martins seemed steady, kind, and safe, and Lassie was always there watching over everyone. For a kid, that kind of world was easy to want.
Well, at least I have my cat Chassie, and yes, calling her reminds me of Lassie.

Holy Clean Hands, Batman!

I remember seeing this commercial as a kid and wondering what Lava Soap even was. I don’t remember if my mom ever actually bought it for us, but if Batman was selling it, I wanted it!

That was the power of 1960s Batmania. Adam West’s Batman was everywhere, including commercials for Lava Soap, the gritty hand soap meant for grease, grime, and dirty hands. It was the kind of soap dads kept near the garage sink, but to a kid watching Batman and Robin pitch it, it suddenly looked like something every crimefighter needed.

Did your family ever have Lava Soap in the house, or were you like me, just wanting it because Batman said so?

Did Miss Nancy Ever Call Your Name?

Did she ever call your name? Oh, the simple joys of Romper Room. That Magic Mirror had every kid sitting at home waiting, hoping Miss Nancy would say their name before the show ended. And if she did, you felt like you had just made national television from the living room floor.

I told you my father was a Marine, so we grew up in Virginia or North Carolina so we watched Miss Nancy on WBAL. But I never realized back then that there wasn’t just one “Miss Nancy.” Romper Room was franchised and syndicated, meaning different cities often had their own local hostesses using the same basic format.

The original Romper Room began in Baltimore in the early 1950s and was created by Bert and Nancy Claster, with Nancy Claster becoming the first well-known “Miss Nancy.” It was aimed at preschool children and felt like a TV nursery school, with songs, games, stories, manners, and those famous lessons about being a “Do Bee” instead of a “Don’t Bee.”

And then came the part we all remember: “Romper, bomper, stomper boo…” Miss Nancy would look through the Magic Mirror and start naming children she supposedly saw watching at home. We knew she probably couldn’t really see us, but at that age you weren’t taking chances. You sat there quietly, behaved like a Do Bee, and waited for your name.

That is what made the show work. She treated the camera like another child in the room, so the kids watching at home felt included too. It was simple television: a teacher, a few children, a Jack-in-the-box, a magic mirror, and lessons about being polite.

No explosions, no superheroes, no fast cuts (ok, maybe a clown in the Jack-in-the-box). Just Miss Nancy asking if we had fun at play.

And yes, I still remember waiting for my name. Did she ever call yours?

Buddy L Trucks

Nothing gave me more fun and joy as a child than playing in the backyard with my Buddy L trucks.

The early Buddy L trucks were made from heavy pressed steel, which made them feel like real construction equipment shrunk down for a kid. The brand started with the Moline Pressed Steel Company in East Moline, Illinois, founded by Fred Lundahl, whose company originally made automobile and truck parts before moving into toys in the early 1920s.

The name Buddy L came from Lundahl’s son, Arthur, whose nickname was “Buddy.” The story goes that Lundahl made a sturdy toy truck for his son using the same kind of steel his company worked with, and it turned into something much bigger. By 1921, Buddy L trucks were being produced as toys, and they quickly became known for being big, tough, and realistic. Over the decades, the brand changed hands several times. By the 1990s and early 2000s, Buddy L had been sold through different companies, and the original manufacturing era was over.

That is what made them so special. A Buddy L dump truck, fire truck, wrecker, steam shovel, or delivery truck did not just sit on a shelf. You took it outside. You loaded it with dirt, rocks, sticks, sand, and whatever else you could find. You built roads, dug holes, made construction sites, and probably scratched the heck out of the paint without caring one bit.

For a lot of us, Buddy L trucks were not just toys. They were backyard equipment. They had weight, they had metal, they had working parts, and they made you feel like you were running the whole job site. Long before video games gave kids virtual worlds to build, a Buddy L truck, a patch of dirt, and a little imagination were all we needed.

Looking back, that is probably why they are so collectible today. They remind people of a time when toys were built like the real thing, and when a kid could spend an entire afternoon outside with one truck and never be bored.

Keeping With The Earworm Theme…G.I Joe! G.I.Joe!

You remember that, right?

Back when G.I. Joe wasn’t something you could lose under the couch in five seconds… it was a full-blown 12-inch soldier you could actually hold onto. That’s what I grew up with. My dad was a Marine, so yeah, there was no question I was getting one. But let me tell you, on a Marine’s pay, those accessories might as well have been locked up in Fort Knox (with Joe guarding it). You made do with what you had… and honestly, it didn’t matter.

Now here’s something people don’t always think about… G.I. Joe first came out in 1964, and not long after, the mood in the country started shifting. You started hearing more anti-war sentiment as the years went on. They didn’t dwell on it in the toy aisle, but you could feel the change happening in the background.

And yeah… they were already calling it an “action figure” when I got mine, I think it was 1966, and I remember that so well because my older brother wasn’t buying it. Not for a second. He kept busting me, telling me I was playing with dolls. And I’d fire right back every time, “It’s not a doll, it’s an action figure!” Didn’t matter how many times I said it… I wasn’t winning that battle.

Because those big Joes just felt right. These weren’t little plastic guys either. They were about a foot tall and had real cloth uniforms you could swap out (my wife is ribbing me just now, saying she was able to do that with her Barbie and Ken dolls). If you were lucky enough to have the gear, you could outfit them for just about anything. And they took off like a rocket. First year, around 16.9 million dollars in sales. Next year, over 36 million. That’s big money for back then. These things were everywhere… every kid knew what G.I. Joe was.

Now I get why they eventually made them smaller. Those big figures weren’t cheap to make, and by the 70s, things were changing. Then Star Wars hit in ’77 and flipped the whole toy world on its head. Smaller figures, vehicles, playsets… suddenly, you could build an entire world instead of just having one guy. From a business standpoint, it made total sense. Cheaper to make, more to sell.

But here’s the thing… it just wasn’t the same.

And I know exactly what you mean when you say it’s hard to explain. Those 12-inch Joes had some weight to them. They felt more real. The cloth uniforms made a difference. It was like you had your one guy, and you were sending him out on missions. The smaller ones were fun, no doubt, but they felt more like pieces of a bigger set instead of your figure.

So let me ask you…

Am I the only one who feels this way, or did those full-size G.I. Joes just hit different?

And be honest… were you one of the lucky ones with all the accessories… or were you like me, arguing with your brother that it wasn’t a doll while still making it work with what you had and having a blast anyway?

Is the jingle stuck in your head now?

🚂 Why the Choo Choo Charlie Jingle Still Lives Rent-Free in Your Head

How many of you can still hear it without even trying?

“Choo Choo Charlie was an engineer…”

And just like that, you’re off. The whole song starts playing in your head like it never left.

The jingle for Good & Plenty is one of those rare pieces of advertising that didn’t just sell a product—it burned itself into generations of memories. And there’s actually a reason it worked so well.

First, it’s built like a nursery rhyme. The rhythm is simple, repetitive, and easy to follow, just like the songs you learn as a kid. That kind of structure makes it incredibly easy for your brain to store and recall, even decades later.

Then there’s the melody. It moves in a steady, almost train-like cadence—chugging along just like Charlie’s engine. That wasn’t an accident. The beat mimics motion, so your brain connects the sound with the visual of a train, reinforcing it every time you hear it.

Repetition played a huge role too. The commercials didn’t just play the jingle once—they leaned into it. Same tune, same structure, over and over again. Instead of getting annoying, it became familiar, and familiarity is exactly what makes something stick.

And maybe the biggest reason? It tells a story. In just a few lines, you get a character, a setting, and a payoff. Choo Choo Charlie isn’t just singing—he’s winning. His candy-powered train beats the competition, and that little narrative gives your brain something to latch onto beyond just the music.

Put it all together—simple rhythm, memorable melody, repetition, and a tiny story—and you’ve got the perfect formula for something that sticks with you for life.

That’s why, even today, people who haven’t seen those commercials in 40 or 50 years can still sing it like they just heard it yesterday.