I remember watching this commercial as a kid, surprised that Jed smoked. I think we all knew Granny smoked, along with her moonshine.
What would Granny, Jed, Jethro, Ellie May, and Miss Jane be promoting today?
I remember watching this commercial as a kid, surprised that Jed smoked. I think we all knew Granny smoked, along with her moonshine.
What would Granny, Jed, Jethro, Ellie May, and Miss Jane be promoting today?
Before the internet gave us endless cat videos, we had to take them wherever we could get them, and sometimes that meant a Purina Cat Chow commercial. This old ad feels almost like the Joe Weider offers in the back of comic books, where you were always being promised something special if you paid attention, mailed away, or bought the product.
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?
It still wasn’t as bad as when Dad turned on Lawrence Welk, but Hee Haw always felt like the country cousin of Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In. It had the same quick jokes, blackout skits, silly one-liners, and regular cast bits, just with more overalls, cornfields, banjos, and country music stars dropping by.
The show first aired in 1969, right around the same era when Laugh-In was still the cool, fast-moving comedy show everyone was talking about. Hee Haw took that same rapid-fire style and gave it a country spin, and somehow it stuck around for years. Even if you weren’t a big country music fan, you probably remember the corny jokes, the haystacks, the “salute” segments, and someone in the house laughing at lines that made the rest of us groan. And who can forget Grandpa?
Oh, I can hear my mother singing along with Phyllis Diller on this one! Thanks to the viewer who requested this last week, it brought back a forgotten memory!
The Pruitts of Southampton was one of those 1960s sitcoms that had a wild setup and an even wilder star. It aired on ABC during the 1966-67 season and starred Phyllis Diller as Phyllis Pruitt, a supposedly rich Southampton widow trying to keep up appearances after the IRS discovers the family is actually broke. Instead of losing everything, she has to keep living like high society while secretly cutting corners and trying to hold the whole mansion together.
The show had a pretty impressive cast around her too, including Gypsy Rose Lee, Richard Deacon, Reginald Gardiner, and even Lisa Loring, who many of us remember as Wednesday from The Addams Family. Later in the season, the show was renamed The Phyllis Diller Show, but it still only lasted one season.
And yes, that catchy theme had a familiar name behind it: Vic Mizzy, the same composer who gave us The Addams Family theme. That probably explains why so many people remember the tune even if they barely remember the show itself. It was loud, silly, a little over-the-top, and totally Phyllis Diller. For a short-lived sitcom, it sure found a way to stick in people’s heads.
#ThePruittsOfSouthampton #PhyllisDiller #ClassicTV #RetroTV #1960sTV #TVNostalgia #TheRetroSite #BabyBoomerMemories #VintageTelevision #TVThemeSongs
You ever look back at some of these old commercials and just shake your head?
This is one of those for me… the one where they made a big deal about a cigarette being just a little bit longer. We’re talking a millimeter… something you’d need a ruler to even notice. But back then? They sold it like it was a game changer.
Even as a kid I remember thinking, wait… that’s it? But the way they presented it, you’d think you were looking at a luxury item. Zoomed in shots, side-by-side comparisons, and that smooth voiceover selling the idea like it mattered.
Brands like Virginia Slims leaned hard into that image. It wasn’t just smoking… it was style, confidence, sophistication. And tied into that whole “You’ve come a long way, baby” vibe, it all felt bigger than it really was.
And then there’s the music.
That jingle always hit my ear like La Bamba… that same upbeat, bouncing rhythm that sticks in your head whether you want it to or not. Not the actual song… but close enough that your brain grabs onto it.
And somehow they wrapped all of that together and made cigarette size a trend.
Think about that.
There was a time when a slightly longer cigarette felt like a status move. Longer, slimmer… like you were keeping up with something. They took something barely noticeable and turned it into a whole thing.
Different times, right?
But here we are… still talking about it.
Let me ask you…
Were your parents into the trends… or once they picked a brand, that was it?
After posting the Nestlé’s “makes the very best… chaaawwwwclit” commercial, a lot of you asked for this one. Go ahead and share your favorite dummy and I’ll try and do some research on it… Politicians are not allowed, though, lol.
Now let me take you back for a second.
There are certain things from back in the day that just stuck with you—and not always in a good way. For me, one of them was that ventriloquist dummy from The Twilight Zone.
I’m talking about the episode “The Dummy.”
When you watched it as a kid, you didn’t overthink it. You just felt it. And something about that dummy—Willie—just wasn’t right. That grin, those eyes… the way he just sat there like he knew something you didn’t.
The episode stars Cliff Robertson as a ventriloquist whose life is starting to fall apart. His act is slipping, his confidence is gone, and he becomes convinced that his dummy is actually alive.
At first, you’re thinking, “okay… this guy’s losing it.”
But then things start happening.
You hear the dummy talking when he shouldn’t be.
You start picking up on his personality… and it’s not a good one.
There’s this edge to him—controlling, almost mocking.
And now you’re hooked.
Because you don’t know what to believe.
That’s what Rod Serling did better than anybody. He didn’t just scare you—he made you question everything you were watching.
And then comes that ending.
No spoilers if someone hasn’t seen it—but let’s just say… the control isn’t where you think it is. And when it hits you, it sticks.
What really got me though? The look of that dummy.
Nothing fancy. No special effects. Just that fixed smile, those eyes that seem to follow you, and that black-and-white lighting that made everything feel just a little more off than it should.
Back then, ventriloquist dummies were everywhere—variety shows, comedians, you name it. Nobody thought twice about them.
Until this.
After that episode? Yeah… different story.
You started looking at those things a little sideways.
And if you really got into it, you probably remember they did it again with another episode called “Caesar and Me.” Same idea… just as unsettling.
But for me, this was the one.
It took something ordinary… and twisted it just enough to mess with your head.
And I’ll tell you this—after seeing it back then…
I never trusted those dummies again.
There’s a well-known scene from Leave It to Beaver where Ward Cleaver (Hugh Beaumont) is clearly frustrated with Beaver and starts to say something along the lines of disciplining him—what people later joke about as “hitting the Beaver.”
But what makes the moment memorable isn’t actual violence—it’s the awkward interruption and phrasing.
As Ward begins to sternly address Beaver, the situation shifts when others are present (or nearby), and the tone changes. Instead of following through with a harsh statement, Ward softens and redirects, choosing words more carefully. The writing leans into that classic 1950s TV dynamic: discipline is implied, but handled verbally and with restraint.
Over time, fans have latched onto these moments because of how they sound out of context. Lines like “Ward, don’t be too hard on the Beaver” became unintentionally funny decades later, especially when pulled away from the show’s wholesome tone.
The combination of innocent writing and changing language meanings turned these scenes into internet-era jokes. What was once a straightforward family moment now gets remembered for its accidental double meanings.
If you want, I can track down the exact episode that line gets closest to what you’re remembering—there are a couple of similar scenes fans mix together.