It amazes me how we hear a sound, song, or even a phrase like “It’s Shake and Bake and I Helped in an adorable southern accent. No real story comes to mind for me. How about you?
Tag: The RetroSite
Mouse Trap Game
I remember wanting Mouse Trap so bad because it looked so cool in the commercial. What kid wouldn’t want their very own Rube Goldberg machine right there on the kitchen table?
Mouse Trap came out in 1963, and the whole attraction wasn’t just the board game itself. It was that crazy contraption you built while playing. The crank, the gears, the marble, the bathtub, the diving man, the cage, and all those little plastic pieces that had to line up just right. On TV, it looked like the greatest thing ever invented.
The neighbor kid had one, we played it, and I was excited to try it for real. It was fun, but I’ll be honest, it wasn’t quite as exciting as I had built it up to be in my head. Maybe it needed that wacky music from the commercial playing in the background! Without the TV magic, it was still a neat game, but the commercial may have sold it better than the actual game.
Still, you have to give Mouse Trap credit. Every kid who saw that commercial wanted to see that trap go off. Whether it worked perfectly or needed a little help, it was one of those games that made you say, “I want that!”
70’s Canister Set
We had this canister set, but ours was brown, or whatever that official 1970s brown color was called. You know the one, somewhere between chocolate, coffee, and “everything in the kitchen must look like earth tones.”
Seeing something like this is funny because it is just a simple photo, but it brings back a flood of childhood memories. I remember our tea canister stacked on top of the coffee canister, and the other three were all the same size. For some reason, I thought that was pretty cool. Then again, back then, most things seemed pretty cool.
The 1970s kitchen definitely had its own look. Avocado green, harvest gold, burnt orange, and those deep browns seemed to be everywhere, from appliances to countertops to dishes and canister sets like these. Nothing matched today’s idea of “modern,” but somehow it all felt warm, familiar, and homey.
It is amazing how one little thing from the kitchen counter can take you right back. You can almost picture the percolator, the Tupperware, the patterned wallpaper, and someone telling you not to touch anything because company was coming over.
Did your family have a canister set like this, and what color was yours?
Jeff’s Collie
After posting about Lassie, many of you asked about Jeff’s Collie, which I was totally unfamiliar with, so please share your memories about this one! I don’t know if it wasn’t shown in our area or if somehow this got by me.
When Lassie first came to television in 1954, the boy was not Timmy. It was Jeff Miller, played by Tommy Rettig. Jeff lived on a farm with his widowed mother, Ellen Miller, played by Jan Clayton, and his grandfather, George “Gramps” Miller, played by George Cleveland. Those early years are often called Jeff’s Collie, especially in reruns and DVD releases.
That version ran from 1954 to 1957, covering the first several seasons of the show. The setup was still the same basic formula we all remember: a boy, a farm, a loyal collie, and some kind of trouble that Lassie had to fix before the episode ended. Jeff would get into scrapes, someone would need help, and Lassie would bark, run, and somehow explain the whole emergency better than most adults could.
The show changed after actor George Cleveland, who played Gramps, died in 1957. His death was written into the series, and the Miller family eventually left the farm. That opened the door for Timmy Martin, played by Jon Provost, to become Lassie’s new boy. From there, the show became the more famous Timmy and Lassie era.
So Jeff’s Collie is basically the “before Timmy” Lassie. Same famous dog, same wholesome adventure style, but with Tommy Rettig as Jeff instead of Jon Provost as Timmy. For people who watched the reruns, it could be confusing because one day Lassie belonged to Jeff, and another day she belonged to Timmy, and as kids we probably just accepted that Lassie had more family changes than most soap operas.
Summary:
Before Timmy became Lassie’s best-known TV companion, there was Jeff Miller in the early years of the series, often remembered as Jeff’s Collie. It was the original boy-and-his-dog era of Lassie, and somehow this one got by me, so I’d love to hear who remembers watching it.
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.
There Was More For Your Life At Sears
Back in the early 1980s, Sears was still one of the big American shopping destinations, and their “There’s More For Your Life At Sears” campaign tried to sell that feeling. It wasn’t just about buying appliances, tools, clothes, or lawn furniture. Sears wanted you to believe the whole family could find something there.
One of the familiar faces in the campaign was golf legend Arnold Palmer, who appeared alongside other recognizable sports figures of the time. The commercials had that upbeat, mall-era energy where everyone looked excited just to be shopping. Looking back now, they feel a little corny, but in the best possible nostalgic way.
For a lot of us, Sears was where you went for everything from back-to-school clothes to Craftsman tools, Kenmore appliances, Wish Book dreams, and maybe even a glimpse of Arnold Palmer telling us there was more to life at Sears.
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?
Breakfast With Clowns
Back in our day, we had breakfast with clowns, and somehow nobody thought that was strange.
Post Sugar Rice Krinkles was one of those cereals that could only come from that golden age of Saturday morning television, when cereal companies put sugar right in the name and then sent a clown on TV to tell us it was part of a good breakfast. The cereal itself was a sweetened crisp rice cereal from Post, but the real memory-jogger was Krinkles the Clown, who showed up in those early commercials with that classic 1950s “fun for kids, slightly terrifying for adults” energy.
Looking back now, it is funny how normal that all seemed. We had clowns selling cereal, puppets selling chocolate, cartoon animals selling everything else, and we just sat there in our pajamas eating it all up before the cartoons came on. Sugar Rice Krinkles may be long gone, but it sits right in that strange and wonderful cereal aisle of our memories, back when breakfast was sweet, the commercials were catchy, and apparently clowns were welcome at the table.
Super Friends
Super Friends was one of those Saturday morning cartoons that made DC superheroes feel like they all lived in the same neighborhood. It first aired on ABC in 1973 and was produced by Hanna-Barbera, bringing together Superman, Batman and Robin, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, and later other heroes from the Justice League world.
The show was definitely made for kids, so the action was toned way down compared to the comic books. Instead of darker superhero stories, you got teamwork, moral lessons, danger, science-fiction plots, and everybody meeting at the famous Hall of Justice. Early on, the show even had kid sidekicks Wendy, Marvin, and Wonder Dog, before later seasons brought in the much better-remembered Wonder Twins, Zan and Jayna, with their monkey Gleek.
For a lot of us, the best-remembered version is probably Challenge of the Superfriends from 1978. That’s the one that gave us the Legion of Doom, led by Lex Luthor, with villains like Cheetah, Riddler, Bizarro, Scarecrow, Captain Cold, Black Manta, and Solomon Grundy. Their creepy swamp headquarters, the Hall of Doom, was almost as memorable as the heroes themselves.
Looking back, Super Friends could be corny, stiff, and sometimes unintentionally funny, but that was also part of its charm. For a whole generation, this was the first time we saw Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, and the rest of the gang teaming up every Saturday morning. Before the big movies, before the modern animated Justice League shows, this was our superhero universe.