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
One of my family’s favorite shows starring Dom DeLuise only lasted one season, but we never forgot it.
Lotsa Luck starred Dom as Stanley Belmont, a good-hearted working guy stuck supporting his mother, sister, and unemployed brother-in-law. It was loud, silly, and very much built around Dom DeLuise’s lovable, frustrated comedy style.
It may not have lasted long, but if your family watched it, chances are you still remember it.
Did you watch Lotsa Luck?
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?
The Johnny Seven O.M.A. was one of the ultimate “how did kids ever get this?” toys of the 1960s. Made by Topper Toys/Deluxe Reading, it came out in 1964 and was marketed as the One-Man Army — a giant toy weapon with several play features built into one.
This thing was not subtle. It could act like a machine gun, grenade launcher, rocket launcher, rifle, and detachable pistol all in one. For kids watching the TV commercial, it must have looked like the jackpot. One toy did everything. You didn’t just get a cap gun — you got the whole backyard battle kit.
But here is probably why so many of us never got one: the Johnny Seven sold for about $10.88 in 1964, which sounds cheap until you adjust it for today. That would be roughly $115 now, so this was not just some little toy tossed into the cart. This was a serious Christmas-present-level toy, the kind you hoped was under the tree but maybe understood years later why it wasn’t.
Looking back now, it feels almost impossible that this was once a mainstream toy. But in the mid-’60s, with war shows, spy shows, James Bond-style gadgets, and G.I. Joe all part of the culture, the Johnny Seven fit right in.
Did you have a Johnny Seven O.M.A., or was this one of those toys you wanted but never got?
Nanny and the Professor premiered on ABC on Wednesday, January 21, 1970, and ran until December 27, 1971. It starred Juliet Mills as the mysterious Phoebe Figalilly, better known as Nanny, and Richard Long as widowed Professor Harold Everett.
The show had a gentle Mary Poppins feel, with Nanny always seeming to know a little more than everyone else. Was she magical, psychic, or just very clever? That was part of the fun.
For many kids, it fit perfectly into ABC’s family lineup, especially when it aired on Friday nights near The Brady Bunch and The Partridge Family. It was sweet, quiet, and very much of its time.
Did you watch Nanny and the Professor? Did you think Nanny was magical?
K-Tel records filled in the gap of the 45 single hits not on our Columbia House Records!
Before Saturday Night Fever, before Grease, and before John Travolta became one of the biggest movie stars of the 1970s, he was Vinnie Barbarino on Welcome Back, Kotter.
One of his great early TV moments came in the episode “The Telethon,” which aired on February 12, 1976. In the episode, the Sweathogs try to raise money for much-needed school supplies, and Travolta gets to show off the charm that was already making him the breakout star of the show.
His bit was a goofy little number sung to the tune of “Barbara Ann,” turning it into “Ba-Ba-Ba-Barbarino.” It was silly, self-centered, and completely Vinnie — exactly the kind of moment that made kids repeat his lines at school the next day.
Welcome Back, Kotter had only premiered in September 1975, but Travolta was already becoming the one everyone was watching. Vinnie Barbarino gave him his first big break on television, and by 1976 the fan mail and attention were building fast. Within just a couple of years, he would jump from Sweathog heartthrob to full-blown superstar with Saturday Night Fever and Grease.
Looking back, this clip is fun because you can already see it: the grin, the timing, the swagger, and that Travolta confidence before the rest of the world completely caught up.
Ba-ba-ba… Barbarino!
This is one of those commercials that makes you stop and say, “Wait… is that who I think it is?”
In 1971, GAF ran a View-Master commercial starring Henry Fonda, of all people, giving the toy a grandfatherly stamp of approval. Sitting with the kids is a very young Jodie Foster, years before Taxi Driver, Freaky Friday, The Accused, and Silence of the Lambs. Some postings also identify one of the boys as Christopher Knight, better known to TV kids as Peter Brady.
The ad is pure early ’70s View-Master magic: kids gathered around, clicking through those little reels, while Henry Fonda explains the wonder of seeing pictures in 3-D. Before home video, before tablets, before YouTube, this was how a kid could “visit” Disney, see TV characters, travel the world, or look at dinosaurs from the living room floor.
A fun fact: View-Master had been around since 1939, long before it became mostly thought of as a children’s toy. Under GAF, the reels leaned more into kid-friendly subjects like cartoons, TV shows, and entertainment tie-ins.
Another fun fact: Jodie Foster was already a seasoned child performer by this point. She began working as a child model and actress in the 1960s, so this commercial came before her big teen fame in the mid-1970s.
Some commercials you don’t just remember — you can still hear them. The Jolly Green Giant made vegetables feel bigger than life with that booming “Ho Ho Ho!”
The Green Giant character first appeared in advertising in 1928, but he wasn’t always the friendly leafy giant we remember. In 1935, ad man Leo Burnett helped reshape him into the smiling Jolly Green Giant.
The TV version most of us remember really took off around 1961, when “Ho Ho Ho” became his signature line and “Good Things from the Garden” became part of the campaign. The deep voice belonged to Len Dresslar, a Chicago singer whose laugh became one of the most famous sounds in advertising.
The Giant later got a young helper, Little Green Sprout, in the early 1970s. The campaign faded in and out over the years, but it never really disappeared. Even if he wasn’t always in the commercials, he stayed right there on the package.
Ho Ho Ho… Green Giant!
There was a time when a kid could watch a Saturday morning ad and immediately know what he wanted next: a Dick Tracy gun set.
Mattel’s Dick Tracy line included the Snub-Nose .38 pistol with a holster and the Tommy Burst Machine Gun, both tied into the famous comic-strip detective. The ad was pure early-1960s kid fantasy: a young boy playing detective, saving the day, and turning the living room into a crime-fighting headquarters while Dad tried to read the paper.
The Snub-Nose .38 was the kind of toy that made a kid feel like an undercover detective. Add the shoulder holster, and suddenly you weren’t just playing cops and robbers — you were Dick Tracy. The Tommy Burst took it even further, giving kids the look of an old gangster-era machine gun, except now the kid was the good guy chasing the crooks. Collectors still identify the Tommy Burst as part of Mattel’s early-1960s Dick Tracy toy line.
Watching those ads now, it is almost shocking how casually toy guns were sold to children. No disclaimers, no bright orange tips, no nervous wording. It was just “here’s the cool detective gear,” and every kid understood the assignment. Back then, toy guns were part of cowboy shows, police shows, war toys, spy kits, detective sets, and neighborhood games that lasted until the streetlights came on.
Of course, times changed. Today an ad like that would probably cause a committee meeting before it ever made it to TV. But for kids of that era, the Dick Tracy Snub-Nose and Tommy Burst weren’t about violence. They were about imagination, sound effects, hiding behind the sofa, and yelling “I got ’em!” before your mother told you to take it outside.
Did you have one of these Dick Tracy guns — or was this the kind of toy you circled in the catalog and never got?
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?
