Retro Reminiscing Video and Pictures – Do You Remember
online community focused on sharing and reminiscing about video, audio, and images that stir our memories of the past – old television, theme songs, commercials, print advertisements, the sights and sounds you remember
Magilla Gorilla was one of those classic Hanna-Barbera characters who was impossible not to like. Sitting in Mr. Peebles’ pet shop with his little hat, bow tie, suspenders, and endless supply of bananas, Magilla was always waiting for someone to take him home.
Of course, every time someone did, it usually went wrong — and poor Mr. Peebles would end up with Magilla right back in the window.
Do you remember watching Magilla Gorilla?
This is what Saturday mornings looked like when the cereal bowl was full, the TV was warm, and the whole morning belonged to cartoons. ABC’s 1971 lineup brought together a wild mix of animated favorites, spooky fun, music, adventure, and live-action weirdness that only the early ’70s could deliver.
Did you watch ABC on Saturday mornings, or were you switching between channels?
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.
Mr. Magoo was one of those cartoon characters built around one joke that somehow kept working: he could barely see, refused to admit it, and still managed to stumble through danger without realizing how close he came.
His full name was Quincy Magoo, and he first appeared in the 1949 UPA cartoon The Ragtime Bear. The character was voiced for decades by Jim Backus, who later became just as famous as Thurston Howell III on Gilligan’s Island.
The humor was simple. Magoo would mistake one thing for another, walk into ridiculous situations, and somehow come out fine while everyone around him panicked. His famous line was:
“Oh, Magoo, you’ve done it again!”
What made Mr. Magoo stand out was that he wasn’t a talking animal or superhero. He was a stubborn little old man with terrible eyesight and total confidence. The cartoons had a sharp, modern look compared to a lot of animation at the time, and Magoo became one of UPA’s signature characters.
He later moved into TV cartoons, specials, commercials, and even holiday programming. Looking back, Mr. Magoo is definitely a product of his time, but for many of us, he’s still remembered as that squinty little guy who caused chaos everywhere he went and somehow never knew it.
The World of Commander McBragg was one of those quick little cartoon shorts that showed up inside other shows, especially Tennessee Tuxedo and His Tales and later syndicated cartoon packages. The shorts were usually only about 90 seconds, but they packed in a whole tall tale before moving on.
Commander McBragg was a retired British-style officer and gentleman who loved telling outrageous stories about his impossible adventures. He would buttonhole some poor listener at his club, point to a map or globe, and launch into a story about the time he survived some ridiculous danger. Of course, the name said it all: McBragg. He was always bragging.
The humor came from how seriously he told these completely unbelievable adventures. Giant birds, dangerous jungles, impossible escapes, wild animals, lost valleys, flying machines, and whatever else the writers could dream up. At the end, he would usually survive by some absurd bit of cleverness, then calmly accept praise as if it had all been perfectly normal.
The character’s deep, gravelly voice was done by Kenny Delmar, who had been famous on radio as Senator Claghorn, the character who helped inspire Foghorn Leghorn.
Looking back, Commander McBragg was basically a cartoon version of that old uncle or neighbor who always had a bigger, better, wilder story than everyone else. You didn’t believe a word of it, but you still wanted to hear how he got out of it.
Tennessee Tuxedo and His Tales was a Saturday morning cartoon that aired on CBS from 1963 to 1966. It starred Tennessee Tuxedo, a penguin in a hat and bow tie, and his loyal but dim pal Chumley the walrus. They lived at the Megapolis Zoo and were always trying some new scheme that usually went wrong fast.
Tennessee was voiced by Don Adams, before Get Smart made him a household name. Once you know that, you can hear a little Maxwell Smart in Tennessee’s voice. Chumley was voiced by Bradley Bolke, and Larry Storch voiced the brilliant Phineas J. Whoopee, the professor who explained things with his famous 3DBB, the “three-dimensional blackboard.”
That was the sneaky educational part of the show. Tennessee and Chumley would get into trouble, then Mr. Whoopee would explain science, history, or how something worked, but it didn’t feel like school because the cartoon was still silly.
Looking back, it had that classic early Saturday morning feel: simple animation, funny voices, a catchy theme, and just enough learning hidden inside the laughs. Tennessee may have tried and failed a lot, but the show stuck around in a lot of memories.
When people mention the Sesame Street counting song, a lot of us instantly hear that funky:
“1, 2, 3, 4, 5…”
The best-remembered version is the Pinball Number Count, the animated segment where a pinball rolls through wild little number-themed machines while the song counts up to 12. It was recorded by The Pointer Sisters in 1976, which explains why it had so much more groove than a regular kids’ counting song.
That was part of Sesame Street’s genius. They didn’t talk down to kids. They used real music, catchy animation, and repetition that worked. You learned numbers without feeling like you were being taught.
There were plenty of other number songs on Sesame Street, including ones focused on counting to 10, but the Pinball Number Count is probably the one most people remember first. It was funky, fast, colorful, and impossible to forget.
For a lot of us, that little pinball didn’t just teach numbers. It gave us one of the greatest earworms in children’s TV history.
If you watched The New Casper Cartoon Show on Saturday mornings, the ending probably brings back just as many memories as the opening.
These are the Casper episodes I’m most familiar with, so seeing the closing again feels like finding an old piece of childhood TV you forgot was still tucked away somewhere. Casper was never the scary kind of ghost. He was gentle, lonely, and always just trying to make a friend.
The show first aired on ABC Saturday mornings in 1963, with new cartoons made for TV along with older Casper shorts. It gave Casper a regular place in the Saturday morning lineup, alongside characters like Wendy the Good Little Witch, The Ghostly Trio, Spooky, and Nightmare the ghost horse.
The ending has that simple old-TV charm. No big production, no loud cliffhanger, just a friendly goodbye from a cartoon that was never trying to be too wild or too scary.
For many of us, this version of Casper is the one that stuck: cereal bowl nearby, TV glowing, and a friendly ghost reminding us that sometimes the nicest character on television was the one everyone else was supposed to be afraid of.
These are the Casper episodes I’m most familiar with, and it’s good to see them all once again.
The New Casper Cartoon Show first aired on ABC Saturday mornings in 1963, with its original run continuing into early 1964. It included 26 new Casper cartoons made for TV, along with older theatrical cartoons that helped keep Casper on television for years afterward.
Casper had already been around before this show, appearing in theatrical cartoons and Harvey Comics, but this version gave him a regular Saturday morning home. Unlike most ghosts, Casper didn’t want to scare anyone. He just wanted friends, which made him one of the gentler cartoon characters of the era.
The show also featured familiar Harvey characters like Wendy the Good Little Witch, The Ghostly Trio, Spooky, and Nightmare the ghost horse.
Casper would return in later forms too, including Casper and the Angels in the late 1970s and other Harvey cartoon packages that kept him alive for new generations of kids. But for many of us, The New Casper Cartoon Show is the version that feels like Saturday morning: cereal, pajamas, and a friendly ghost who was never too scary.
The Jetsons first aired on ABC on Sunday nights at 7:30 p.m., beginning September 23, 1962. The original run was only 24 episodes, but it left a much bigger footprint than its short first season would suggest.
For kids, The Jetsons made the future look amazing. Flying cars, moving sidewalks, video calls, robot maids, push-button meals, and a workday so short George still complained about it. It was basically The Flintstones flipped into outer space, with the Stone Age family replaced by a space-age family.
The show followed George Jetson, his wife Jane, daughter Judy, son Elroy, dog Astro, and of course Rosie the Robot, who somehow became one of the most memorable characters even though she was not in every episode.
What is funny now is how many “future” ideas from The Jetsons don’t seem so crazy anymore. Video calls, flat screens, smart watches, robotic helpers, and push-button convenience all feel a lot closer to real life than they did in 1962.
The original series also has a neat TV trivia note: it was ABC’s first regularly scheduled program broadcast in color, even though many viewers still watched it in black and white.
Looking back, The Jetsons was not just a cartoon. It was the future as the early 1960s imagined it: shiny, funny, automated, and full of gadgets that were supposed to make life easier.
And somehow, George still had a hard day at work.
