I Remember JFK: A Baby Boomer's Pleasant Reminiscing Spot

Ah, the avocado-green-era we all knew and loved, aka the 70's. The turbulent 60's were still fresh in our collective memories. But in 1975, the Vietnam War was officially over. Protests were a thing of the past. Nobody had been assassinated in a long time. It was a time of peace and love like we had wished for in the Woodstock era.

So what did we do? We grew our polyester carpets long, We quit turning on, and instead, the country's youth turned to much more mild-tempered grass as the illegal drug of choice. And the keyword of the laid-back years following the breakup of the Beatles was MELLOW.

Jumping in the old Plymouth Fury III circa 1966 and heading down the road to eat out for the evening, one faced a variety of choices. However, if it was not to be a sit-down dinner in a real restaurant, the odds were that whatever delicious edibles would be consumed would have been fried in oil, fat, or just good old lard.

Fast food was a relative term in small-town America in the 60's. Mcdonalds was a chain we had heard about, but which, by and large, hadn't made it to the smaller towns.

Leaded gasoline was born in 1921. GM researchers had been testing fuel blends since 1916, trying to stop engine knock. The problem was early, non-uniform detonation of fuels in the engine cylinder. Left unchecked, it could quickly ruin an engine.

So lead was added to the mixture at the refinery, knock problem solved.

Lead poisoning has been known to medical science since 100 BCE, when Greek writings described it.

Somehow, the harmful effects of spewing lead vapor into the atmosphere eluded the GM engineers. So leaded gasoline became the standard, and untold billions of gallons were burned over the years.

On Independence Day, 1911, Mitchell William Miller was born in Rochester, New York. Naturally gifted at music, Miller went to the Eastman School of Music, where he excelled in the oboe and English horn. By the 1930's and 40's, he was working as a session musician, backing up many of the most famous artists of the day. In 1938, he was playing in the studio orchestra as Orson Welles was scaring the daylights out of our parents with his War of the Worlds broadcast.

Mitch got into the record production business. He proved to be a prolific producer of hits that, once again, our parents listened to. His first smash was Frankie Laine's Mule Train.

George Lucas was still flying high in 1977 from the success of 1973's American Graffiti. However, Universal pictures turned down his latest idea: a science-fiction tale that had lots of cowboys and Indians, so to speak, and that might offend purists but which would appeal to the masses.

Universal passed on Star Wars because they considered it to be a silly movie idea. In fact, every single studio in Hollywood passed on the project except for 20th Century Fox.

So Star Wars Episode 4: A New Hope was released on May 25, 1977. That date was significant to me because it was also the day I graduated high school. So in a strange way, I am connected with Star Wars.

If you grew up in a city, the subject of today's column may not ring any bells, so to speak. But if you grew up in small town America, or perhaps grew up in the country, you no doubt remember the concept of a party line.

As America was wired for telephone service, it was impossible to give everyone their own private line. So neighbors would share a single connection, each having their own phone number. Strange stuff, but it made sense to Ma Bell.

Now consider what was required to complete a phone call in Centerton, Arkansas circa 1971: A line, shared by ten or so households, would have to be unoccupied. Otherwise, the caller would get a busy signal.

That meant that if you had a neighbor who liked to yak, you would miss lots of calls. Not good.

Public Television in the US was launched in 1967. Before that, it had been known as Educational Television. It was a hodgepodge of non-commercial programs that ran without advertising, or government intervention. It was largely supported by contributions, with a little tax money thrown in.

Public Television stations were pretty rare about then. KOED, the Tulsa affiliate, actually began operation in early 1959. It was one of the first. many metropolitan areas didn't get PBS affiliates until the 70's.

But it didn't take long for the upstart network to get some programming that attracted the attention of viewers. These included Sesame Street, Masterpiece Theater, and a British import known as Monty Python's Flying Circus.

"Space . . . the final frontier . . . " Those words first were heard on September 8, 1966, with the debut of Star Trek.

The episode, as any trekkie knows, was The Man Trap. The show created a stir among science fiction fans, but it wasn't the stir that would explode after its cancellation three years later.

Science fiction was pretty amateurish stuff on TV and the movies before Star Trek. Lost in Space was a hit, but there wasn't a whole lot of credibility in its storyline. In fact, many fans tuned in for the camp, like they did with Batman. Hollywood really hadn't topped 1951's The Day the Earth Stood Still for realism and a good storyline. But when Star Trek came along, concepts were revealed that had a sense of possibility about them.

At presstime, the world has just heard of the death of Don Herbert, aka Mr. Wizard. He passed away on June 12, 2007, just a bit short of the age of 90. He had been fighting cancer.

Mr. Wizard was an amazing man who turned many generations of kids onto science. My oldest brother, 15 years my senior, and I were both enthralled by his original series, Watch Mr. Wizard. The show ran from 1951 to 1965, long enough to be a favorite of all of the Enderland boys. I just barely remember watching it, but I remember being thrilled by the amazing things you could do with items found around your house.

Aargh, I write a column ONCE. But due to fumble-fingeredness, I lost my original copy of today's column. So here goes try #2:

Boys love two things: building things, and cars. So it was kind of a no-brainer decision by Revell founder Lewis H. Glaser in 1947 to take advantage of the new technology of molded plastic in order to create model car kits.

Revell, located in Venice, California, had enjoyed moderate success in the toy market up until that point. But Glaser's farsighted decision would make them giants in the model car market until our present day, not to mention selling millions of plastic molded kits for airplanes, military equipment, sailing ships, modern-day ships, and countless other objects requiring the help of a human and airplane glue to achieve completion. But today, we concentrate on the Revell model cars.

"Candy coated popcorn, peanuts and a prize! That's what you get with Cracker Jack!"

If you remember JFK, you also remember actor Jack Gilford and his immortal Cracker Jack commercials of the 60's. Click on the movie to the left for one of my favorites, involving a kid who's just a bit short on cash.

Cracker Jack is one of those memories that our grandparents actually remembered from THEIR childhoods. The song "Take Me out to the Ballgame" was written in 1908, fifteen years after F.W. Rueckheim introduced a unique popcorn, peanuts and molasses confection at the Chicago World's Fair.

Ah, summertime. No school. Swimming. Playing all day long. And, as July 4 neared, FIRECRACKERS!

Fireworks greatly entranced me when I was a kid. When those booths would start opening up in Miami, Oklahoma in late June, I would hound my parents mercilessly to give me some money to go buy fireworks. I would come home with bottle rockets, smoke bombs, and long rows of my favorite: firecrackers.

Really, the concept of selling flammable, explosive items to minors is against everything our sadly litigious society stands for. But somehow, fireworks have survived, albeit in wimpier format than when we were kids.

I loved firecrackers. There were so many things you could do with them! My plastic army men, had they any consciousness at all, would have dreaded my coming home with a bag full of Black Cats. That's because, in short order, they would be hurled skyward by hidden explosive charges. I would take the prone riflemen and lay them on top of firecrackers and blast them off the ground, with my screaming accompaniment. Sadistic to describe, but lots of fun. The army men didn't seem to mind either.

We had our share of crazes in the 70's. We went nuts over all sorts of things. For instance, our big, gas-guzzling cars had CB radios, so we could monitor Smokie's whereabouts. We kids had sissy bars and cheater slicks on our bikes. And our parents, and possibly we ourselves, kept an eye on our biorhythms so as to know whether each day was a good day to take risks, be creative, or perhaps to cocoon whilst nursing a triple low cycle.

Biorhythms (and I'm a better than average speller, but I'm going to vary the spelling of the term here because I couldn't figure out how to spell THAT word at first!) were all the rage in the polyester era. An edition of Time Magazine from 1978 had its cover story devoted to the subject. It fit in perfectly with all the other pseudo-science that bloomed during that particular decade.

Humans, no matter what generation, have always loved a good implausible theory. Nobody actually ever SAW a dragon in medieval times, but that didn't stop the hordes from believing fervently in their existence. A comprehensive sonar scan of Loch Ness revealed no evidence of elasmosaurs, yet sightings and fuzzy photos are still produced. And long lines in Peru's deserts could only mean one thing: ancient astronaut airstrips.

In 1968, Swiss author Erich von Daniken published a book with a question mark at the end of its title that many of its readers felt should have been replaced with an exclamation point. The world was going UFO-crazy about that time, and an official Air Force study, Project Blue Book, was still in operation, investigating unknown aerial phenomena. What a great time to publish a theory that ancient artifacts suggest that we were visited by aliens long ago.

The book was a controversial smash success. Proponents and detractors alike bought copies to examine the evidence von Daniken had amassed.

Basically, his opinion was that many of the great creations of the ancient world were beyond the capability of ancient man. He must have had some extraterrestrial help. Evidence of this included a 16th century Turkish map that allegedly showed the presence of Antarctica. Another artifact that defied explanation was the Antikythera mechanism, apparently a metal geared analog computer from ancient Greece.

It began with a bunch of Arabs with attitudes. It ended with a law forbidding us from traveling over our highways, many of which were designed to be safely traversed at 75 or more miles per hour, at a maximum speed of 55.

The 1973 oil embargo changed history. It forced the passage of energy saving laws, or perhaps laws that intended the saving of energy might be a better description.

The public wasn't nuts about it. Imagine being forced to drive 15 or more miles per hour slower in the name of energy savings that may or may not be taking place. It was certainly an inconvenience for commuters in general, but for the nation's trucking industry, which was based on getting loads hauled to distant locations as quickly as possible, it was intolerable.

Even worse, the radar units themselves could give whacked readings, so you might find yourself being hit in the pocketbook by a device that misread your speed. Guess whose side the judge is going to take with THAT argument!

So a market was quickly created and addressed for devices that would warn all, especially truckers whose livelihood depended on speed, of invisible radar waves that could cost you a hundred or more bucks. Thus was born the Fuzzbuster.

A wonderful tradition began in our childhoods, which was passed on to our children, and then our grandchildren. It was reading the books and savoring the included illustrations of one Theodor Seuss Geisel, aka Dr. Seuss.

What Baby Boomer out there doesn't have among their earliest childhood recollections reading about Sam I Am, Horton the elephant, the Grinch, and, of course, the Cat in the Hat?

Dr. Seuss was a gifted writer in the minimalist style of Ernest Hemingway. However, he took it to an even more basic level. He felt like children learning to read should concentrate on a few basic words, and wrote wonderful stories using only those selected ones.

For example, legend has it that Green Eggs and Ham was written as a response to a bet proposed by Bennet Cerf that he couldn't write a book with only fifty different words. Count the words yourself, he pulled it off, and created one of our favorite childhood memories in the process.

Oh, what horrible, neglectful parents we had by today's standards. First of all, they smoked! In the house! Second, they would let us head out the door in the morning, and not give a second thought to us until we wandered in at suppertime! And, horrors of horrors, they let us ride in the back of pickup trucks!

Oh, the PC police would have them arrested and flogged nowadays. But nobody gave a second thought to any of that stuff in the 50's, 60's, and 70's. Life was an experience that required a bit of common sense. On the other hand, lawyers have turned present-day life into an experience of needing, indeed DEMANDING protection from one's own stupidity.

When I was eight years old, my father obtained a blue-green 1966 Chevy pickup. We had just moved to a farm in rural Missouri, and a pickup was a necessity. I rode in the bed of that truck for countless miles. I would sit against the cab of the truck (dad insisted on that, we're back to common sense) and savor the wind blowing through my summer-bleached-blonde hair. Riding in the back of that truck was a lot of fun.

I had just walked into the house after playing a round of golf. Mom hollered "Elvis is dead!"

There was no need to ask Elvis who. There was only one Elvis back then, and many feel the name should be retired, like Jackie Robinson's number.

Elvis Aron Presley was born in Tupelo, Mississippi on January 8, 1935. While no Boomer himself, there's no estimating just how great an effect he had on our generation. More's the pity he was robbed of the chance to completely own the music business, instead being coerced by his controlling manager into appearing in a long string of cheesy movies through the 60's, wasting time that should have been spent in the recording studio.

Elvis exploded onto the scene with hit singles released by legendary Sun Records. His career was launched into overdrive by triumphant (and controversial for the time) appearances on Ed Sullivan. He truly was rock and roll to a generation of Boomers a bit older than me.

Sometimes, the Johnny-come-lately overshadows that which he imitates. Such was the case with one Bazooka Joe, who appeared in 1954 as an answer to Fleer Funnies, which had been around since the 1930's.

Bazooka bubble gum actually appeared in the 1940's. Topps saw Fleer's success with comic-wrapped gum, and decided there would be room in the market for competitors. So they created Bazooka, the Atom Bubble Boy.

As is stated in Ecclesiastes, a name is better than good oil. But that was a name that simply didn't catch one. So the first mascot was abandoned in short order.

Topps put other comics in with their penny gum, but didn't really hit it big until they dreamed up the character Bazooka Joe in the aforementioned year of 1954.

I had two older brothers growing up. We bonded in different ways. My oldest brother and myself shared a love for science, as can be exemplified by our mutual love for the Mr. Wizard show. My middle brother and myself shared love for things like fireworks, Flipper, and Archie comics.

I was very fortunate to have been taught to read by a progressive-minded kindergarten teacher who was a firm believer in phonics. That meant I could enjoy Archie comics storylines at the tender age of five! And enjoy them I did.

Bill would obtain the comics for twelve cents, and I would get to read them for free! Not a bad deal at all.

The comics that my middle brother and I held in such high esteem got their start back in 1939. MLJ Comics, named after the first initials of its three founders: Maurice Coyne, Louis Silberkleit, and John L. Goldwater, began in that year. Two years later, in an issue of Pep comics, a character named Archie Andrews appeared.

Despite the sameness of Archie and his friends, they have reacted to the times, albeit gently. The latest dances are always featured, Betty and Veronica are always on fashion's cutting edge, and even modest excursions into movements like beatniks, hippies, and punks were taken.

But despite that, Archie fans knew that nobody was going to die, a la Captain America, or no quantum leaps in character depictions would ever be taken.

Until December of 2006, that is.

An edition of Betty and Veronica Double Digest came out that month with the girls redrawn to look more human. It was an "experiment" by the publishers to gauge reader reaction.

It was about as popular as passed gas in an elevator.