vintage television Archives - Page 4 of 4 - Retro Reminiscing Video and Pictures

Remembering Combat! On Memorial Day

Since this is Memorial Day, I thought the intro to Combat! was worth sharing.

This was another one of those shows a lot of our dads watched. To a kid, it looked like an action show: soldiers, rifles, tanks, explosions, and that serious opening that told you this was not going to be a cartoon-style adventure.

But Combat! was different from a lot of TV war shows. It followed an American infantry squad fighting through Europe during World War II, and it often focused less on glory and more on fear, loss, duty, and the bond between men trying to survive. The series aired on ABC from 1962 to 1967, starring Vic Morrow as Sgt. Saunders and Rick Jason as Lt. Hanley. It ran for five seasons and 152 episodes, making it one of television’s longest-running World War II dramas.

Looking back, I can understand why Dad watched it. Many in that generation either served, knew someone who served, or grew up in the shadow of World War II. For kids, we saw the uniforms and action. For them, there was probably a lot more behind it.

On Memorial Day, Combat! is a reminder that the Greatest Generation was not made up of movie heroes. They were young men asked to do impossible things, many of whom never came home.

The Rat Patrol

The Rat Patrol was another one of those shows Dad loved to watch, and to a kid, it sure looked promising. Jeeps tearing across the desert, guns mounted in the back, bombs going off, aircraft overhead — it had all the ingredients that should have grabbed a young viewer right away.

But at that age, the dialogue went right over my head. I was there for the action, not the strategy. The show followed a small Allied commando unit during World War II, racing through the North African desert and taking on German forces in fast-moving missions. It was part war show, part adventure series, and part Saturday afternoon action movie squeezed into a half-hour.

The Rat Patrol aired from 1966 to 1968 and starred Christopher George as Sgt. Sam Troy. One of the more interesting cast members was Hans Gudegast, who played German Capt. Dietrich. Soap fans would later know him much better as Eric Braeden from The Young and the Restless.

The show was loosely inspired by real desert raiding units like the British SAS and the Long Range Desert Group, but Hollywood gave it a very American spin. That bothered some viewers overseas because the real North African desert raids were largely a British and Commonwealth story, while the TV version put American characters front and center. The BBC reportedly pulled the show after only a few episodes because of complaints about that Americanized version of the war.

Looking back, I can see why Dad liked it. It had action, military drama, and just enough grit to feel grown-up. For us kids, it was the jeeps and explosions that pulled us in, even if we didn’t always understand what they were talking about once the shooting stopped.

You Can Trust Your Car…can you finish it?

You Can Trust Your Car to the Man Who Wears the Star was one of those great old advertising lines that stuck in your head because it did exactly what a slogan was supposed to do: it made the brand feel safe, familiar, and dependable.

Texaco’s “star” was right there in the logo, and the “man who wears the star” was the service station attendant. Back then, gas stations were not just places where you pumped your own gas and left. An attendant might check your oil, clean your windshield, look at your tires, and give the car a quick once-over while you sat behind the wheel. The campaign sold Texaco as more than gasoline. It sold trust.

The slogan became closely tied to Texaco’s image during the full-service gas station era. The message was simple: pull into Texaco, look for the star, and you were in good hands. It fit perfectly with the time, when uniformed attendants and branded service stations were part of the American road trip experience.

The jingle is most commonly credited to Roy Eaton, a pioneering Black advertising composer who worked on major campaigns including Texaco and Chef Boyardee Beefaroni. One profile says Eaton created the Texaco jingle in 1962, and another notes it was recognized by Advertising Age as part of one of the top ad campaigns of the 20th century. As for who sang the original version, that part is less clear. The safest answer is that it was likely performed by commercial session singers over the years, with different versions used in different Texaco spots.

The line worked because it sounded almost like a jingle before you even heard the music. “You can trust your car to the man who wears the star” has that smooth, sing-song rhythm that made it easy to remember. Texaco also used another famous star-themed line, “Star of the American Road,” leaning heavily into the red star logo as a symbol of dependability.

Looking back, it is a reminder of when gas stations felt more personal. The “man who wears the star” was not just selling gas. He represented service, pride, and that old-school promise that somebody actually knew your car and cared whether you made it down the road.

Mahna Mahna

Mahna Mahna is one of those nonsense songs that somehow parked itself in everyone’s brain forever.

Most of us remember it from The Muppets, with the shaggy little “Mahna Mahna” character singing the goofy lead while the two pink creatures, the Snowths, answer back. But the song actually started in a very different place. It was written by Italian composer Piero Umiliani for the 1968 Italian film Svezia, inferno e paradiso, released in English as Sweden: Heaven and Hell.

Then Jim Henson and company turned it into something completely different. The Muppets performed it on Sesame Street in 1969, then on The Ed Sullivan Show, and later it became one of the memorable sketches from the first episode of The Muppet Show in 1976.

The funny part is, the lyrics don’t mean anything. That’s the whole charm. It’s just a silly call-and-response tune, but once you hear it, good luck getting it out of your head. Like a lot of the best Muppet moments, it worked because it was simple, weird, and somehow hilarious without needing a real punchline.

The Patty Duke Show

The Patty Duke Show is another one of those shows that reminds us not to believe everything we see on TV. I remember not believing my mom when she told me Patty Duke played both roles, Patty Lane and her “identical cousin” Cathy Lane. Maybe I couldn’t read the credits yet, but to a kid, it sure looked like two different girls.

The show ran on ABC from 1963 to 1966 and starred Patty Duke as both cousins. Patty Lane was the fun, typical American teenager from Brooklyn Heights, while Cathy Lane was the more refined, well-traveled cousin from Scotland. The whole joke of the show was that they looked exactly alike but acted completely different.

What made it even more fun was how they pulled off those split-screen and double-exposure tricks back then. Years later, when I became a video producer, I had a whole new appreciation for it. Anytime I could recreate one of those effects myself, I was pretty proud of it. Back then, it looked like TV magic, and in a lot of ways, it really was.

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.

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.

Lily Tomlin, the Rat Race, and the Comedy That Questioned It All

Lily Tomlin rose to national fame on Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In, where her unforgettable characters—especially Ernestine, the sharp-tongued telephone operator—took aim at corporate culture and the absurdities of everyday life. With biting wit and a playful delivery, Tomlin made audiences laugh while quietly exposing the frustrations of modern systems and institutions.

Her famous quote, “The trouble with being in the rat race is that even if you win, you’re still a rat,” perfectly reflects the cultural mood of that era. During the late 1960s and early 1970s, comedians were increasingly challenging traditional ideas about success, conformity, and the so-called American Dream. Tomlin stood out by blending humor with insight, offering commentary that was both relatable and thought-provoking.

While there is no widely confirmed record of exactly when or where she first delivered the line, it is believed to have circulated during her early stand-up routines and television appearances in that period. Like much of her work, the quote captures a broader truth rather than a single moment—one that continues to resonate in conversations about ambition, identity, and what it really means to “win.”