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

Most everyone, Boomer or not, can recall the first time they fell in love. I certainly do.

I was five years old, and watching the Mickey Mouse Show when Annette (I didn't know her last name) appeared on our black-and-white television. What a beautiful young lady.

The Mickey Mouse Show is a strong memory in the minds of a wide range of Boomers. That's because it was rerun after its initial life, so youngsters like myself who missed its original 1955-59 run could enjoy it after school like their older brothers and sisters did.

Walt Disney, who had already scored big in movies and amusement parks (well, just one amusement park in those days), proved to be a television genius as well. His Sunday night show, whose name kept changing, was a strong, long-lived hit. His second shot at a series was this one. And its immortality is its legacy, even though the show itself ran a mere three years. A fourth season was produced by re-airing earlier episodes.

In television's early days, the various players among the networks weren't clearly defined as to who would be successful and who wouldn't. The giants, NBC and CBS, were pretty much assured of success, since they had access to hordes of familiar radio talents. Things weren't so clear-cut for fledgling ABC, which had begun business in 1943. They didn't have the dedicated listener base that the big boys had.

Enter a fourth entity, one that I, and perhaps you, had never heard of before today: the DuMont Television Network.

DuMont Laboratories was founded in 1931 by Dr. Allen B. DuMont. He and his staff were responsible for lots of early technical innovations, including the first all-electronic consumer television set in 1938. The company's television sets soon became the state of the art.

Automobile styling changed radically during the twenty years that followed WWII's end. Cars were big rolling boxes in 1945. By 1965, they had gotten smaller, sleeker, and faster. And one design in particular proved itself to be timeless, selling in huge numbers over thirty years after its introduction.

The Ford Mustang was the result of an in-house design contest sponsored by division manager Lee Iacoca. The winning design was the work of David Ash and John Oros.

The Mustang itself was released against a wave of opposition within Ford's ranks. Squabbling and in-fighting almost doomed what is arguably the most successful model of car ever released.

In 1961, engineers Herb Misch and Roy Lunn designed a two seat mid-engine convertible that weighed a mere 1500 pounds and got 30 miles to the gallon while posting a respectable 10 second zero-to-sixty time.

Sports car fans both outside and inside Ford's organization eagerly licked their chops at the idea of such a European-thinking design rolling out of Ford's factories. But Lee Iaccoca saw a money pit instead.

On October 26, 1866, a Frenchman named Louis F. Breguet received a patent for a watch that ran on a tuning fork. He was, shall we say, just a bit ahead of his time, although he did manage to produce a prototype.

94 years later, another inventor named Max Hetzel saw his own version of the tuning fork watch see public release as the Bulova Accutron.

Hetzel, raised in Switzerland under very modest circumstances, used to comb the city dump for parts to make things. Early in life, he realized that engineering was his calling. His inventive mind earned him over 100 patents.

Switzerland was renowned for producing the world's most accurate watches. But mechanical works powered by a balance wheel had a ceiling on accuracy. The most expensive watches in the world could guarantee an accuracy of perhaps five minutes per month. And while that was very good, it still meant that watches were off by a number of seconds no matter how often they were synchronized.

Many of us Boomer kids had toys that were only obtainable locally, or perhaps handmade ones that were absolutely unique. And some toys appeared too late for our more senior members to enjoy. But I would be willing to venture a guess that any American Boomer boy in the United States either owned Tonka toys, or at least played with them at friends' homes.

It is difficult to imagine a toy that was more appealing to its intended customers. Kids love cars, trucks, and construction equipment. And they particularly love durable, big, colorful models of them. So to no one's surprise, Tonka toys are one of the biggest sellers in history.

And they showed up just in time to entrance the Baby Boomer generation. Our back yards would never be the same. Somewhere, we created a construction area where we could grade roads, haul dirt, and drive our trucks.

When I first launched I Remember JFK, I wrote a short article about how much I adored the Tonka bulldozer. But, like all of my buddies, I loved all of them.

Tonka got its start on September 19th, 1946 when Mound Metalcraft was created in Mound, Minnesota. Their intent was to produce garden tools. However, the building that they obtained had a former inhabitant who had tried and failed to make miniature metal toy vehicles. The partners thought such a sideline might produce a little extra income, so they reworked the tooling a bit and started making Tonka toys, from a Dakota-Sioux word meaning "big." They started selling them a year after founding the company.

We Boomer kids had a few constants in our lives growing up, some good, some bad. There would be coverage of the Vietnam War every night on the news. Dad would install a new license plate on the car every January. And Lucille Ball would have a hit television show.

Lucy was best known, of course, as Lucy Ricardo, beloved bride of Ricky, in a show that is ranked as the most popular ever by many. I Love Lucy ran for seven seasons beginning in 1951, and the duo went three more years on The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour. And just because you were too young to catch it the first time didn't mean you had to miss it. The first series to be filmed in the studio, instead of being broadcast live, Desi and Lucy shrewdly gained all rights to the show after production ceased, meaning they made untold millions licensing it for syndication.

It's nice when the artists win, instead of the executives.

If there's one thing we Boomers have in common, it was the fact that we likely donned clothing made of the chemical composition known as polyester circa 1973.

Once upon a time, feeling the urge for a career change, I fancied myself becoming a full-time freelance writer. But it's a tough way to make a living. You spend as much time hustling up business as you do creating. Instead, I became a computer geek (at the age of forty, any of you Boomers who are contemplating a career change yourselves!).

Anyhow, I penned the following piece several years ago. It was published in a few regional magazines, so there's a microscopic chance you may have seen it. It's a perfect lead in to tomorrow's column on the history of polyester.

Humor is in the eye of the beholder. Mel Brooks once said, "Tragedy is when I give myself a paper cut. Comedy is when you fall into a hole, and die." Now, that's funny!

Sometimes though, it is difficult to see the humor in certain situations.

Take my son, for example. He is six years old, and just beginning to take pride in his appearance. Translated, that means that he is no longer satisfied with cheap tennis shoes, but insists upon L.A.Gears that light up when you walk. Fortunately, both sets of grandparents are within a few miles, so that most of the name brand purchases are taken care of at no financial pain to me. My fashion conscious son went to a dress up occasion the other night with his pants on backwards. Yes, the zipper was in the back. I asked him if a little alarm didn't go off somewhere when he reached down to zip his fly, and found himself reaching behind him. I didn't get an answer. I also got absolutely no indication that he found anything about his dilemma the least bit funny.

Polyester has become the Mark McGwire of the textiles world. Once prized, it has fallen into disfavor. But it has accomplished a comeback, although the very term "polyester" will conjure up mental images of bright blue leisure suits for years to come.

In 1950, the Du Pont company introduced Dacron polyester. This material, produced mainly from petroleum, was strong enough to be woven into a fabric.

Soon, clothing made of Dacron polyester hit the store shelves. Polyester had many advantages. It could usually be machine washed. It was inexpensive. It was wrinkle-resistant. And it wouldn't mildew. As the years went by, it became more and more popular.

Parents loved buying their kids durable clothing that was difficult to stain. They loved the idea of suits and ties that could be thrown in the washing machine to completely remove the effects of cherry Kool-Aid.

As the 60's wore on, polyester clothing began to be a familiar sight. Brightly colored paisleys and flowers were seen on the shirts of the later years of the decade.

As we entered the 70's, polyester was one of the biggest selling textiles.

We Boomers learned at an early age to be cynical. After all, the first coherent memory many of us have was the gunning down of a charismatic, much-loved President. But if there was an innocence to the optimistic birth of the 60's, it was most certainly lost for good when a madman directed his possessed followers to commit the Tate-LaBianco murders.

Indeed, I hesitate to even pen this piece, as I was badly surprised to see that Charles Manson, who should have been executed many years ago save for a dippy California court ruling which automatically abolished every death sentence issued prior to 1972, has a large support base of fans.

I think I'm going to take a shower and try to wash that thought away when I'm finished writing.

Charles Manson was born to a sixteen-year-old unwed mother in the Great Depression year of 1934. His life wasn't easy, to be sure. His mother was imprisoned for robbery in 1939, and he was sent to live with an aunt and uncle. In 1942, his mother was released, and he was sent back to her. Five years later, she put him in a home for boys. He later escaped, and tried to return to her, but she rejected him.

To continue from the previous entry, Dennis Wilson picked up two Manson girls hitchhiking. He agreed to let them stay at his residence for a while. Manson himself showed up the next night, and Wilson thought he was there to kill him. Instead, he kissed the Beach Boy's feet.

And no, I'm not making any of this up.

When Wilson entered his home, he found about a dozen more Manson family members who had moved in. Over the next few months, more Family members would find Wilson's plush digs a perfect crashing spot.

Wilson himself was caught up in Manson's charisma, and invited him into the recording studio to cut his own records. He also introduced him to insiders and execs who were also caught up with this fascinating little gibberish-spouting hippie.

But even in a drug-crazed mania, common sense can sometimes appear. Wilson realized that Manson and his cult members had cost him about a hundred grand of 1968 dollars with their destructive presence. So he had his manager boot them out that year.

Manson once wandered up to Roman Polanski's and Sharon Tate's home looking for a former resident he had known, musician Terry Melcher. He was told by a friend of Tate's that the person was not there, and that they had never heard of him. Manson was advised to try the guest house where the owner of the property lived, that he might know something about the former tenant.

By now, Tate had appeared at the door to see what was going on. This was the first encounter she had with Manson. The future killer walked around to the guest house to find that the owner was not there. He walked off of the property, to reappear that night.

That evening, he found the owner, Rudi Altobelli, and asked Melcher's whereabouts. He told him he had moved somewhere in Malibu, he wasn't sure where. It turned out that Manson and Altobelli had met at Dennis Wilson's house. Altobelli was in the entertainment business, and Manson wanted to talk to him about getting his songs recorded. Wanting no part of it, Altobelli told him he was flying to Rome the next day to stay for a year. The story was not true, but was intended to keep Manson away. He also told him not to bother his tenants any more.

The first murder took place on July 27, 1969. Family member Bobby Beausoleil stabbed to death acquaintance Gary Hinman in a dispute over money. Per Manson's instructions, he was kept alive for two days imprisoned in his home while he was tortured. Manson himself showed up to take part, then Hinman was finished off. Manson, obsessed with the Beatles' White Album, told Beausoleil to write "political piggy" on the wall in the victim's blood.

On July 6, 1925, a baby boy was born in San Mateo, California. He was christened Mervin Edward Griffin Jr., but was soon known as just plain Merv. Precocious as a child, he was "publishing" his own single-page newspaper as a seven-year-old.

The chunky Merv wanted to be a singer, and at the age of 19 was performing on a national radio show called San Francisco Sketchbook. However, his live appearances often prompted laughter by audience members who discovered that the silky-voiced singer was quite overweight. Griffin, stung by the jibes, lost 80 pounds.

The slimmer, trimmer Merv landed a singing gig with big band leader Freddy Martin.

Griffin's singing success and business acumen eventually led to his own recording label, Panda Records. He scored a hit in the 50's with I've Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts, hitting Number 1.

Doris Day spotted the handsome young singer and offered him a screen test. He ended up with quite a few film roles, including one where he delivered Hollywood's first open-mouthed kiss in 1953's So This Is Love.

But the multi-talented Griffin still hadn't found his perfect niche.

Generations go through societal changes, but some see earthshaking adjustments. Imagine being born in 1880, and seeing the airplane invented when you were 23, then seeing man on the moon when you were 89. Well, we baby Boomers were eyewitnesses to a similar quantum leap: the Civil Rights Movement, and all that it accomplished.

When the Civil War ended in 1865, slavery was outlawed. However, even though blacks were no longer property for sale, white society, particularly in the south, quickly passed laws which enforced a virtual slavery just a bit less oppressive than the real thing.

Jim Crow laws claimed that blacks and whites could comfortably live separate but equal lives. In reality, the white side of town was invariably much wealthier than its black counterpart, and "colored" schools, water fountains, bus seats, et al were simply inferior versions of the white varieties.

This was the status quo of life from 1865 until 1955. That year, the United States Supreme Court made a landmark decision in the case of Brown v. Board of Education of Topeka, Kansas. A unanimous decision was handed down that the traditional separate but equal situation was unconstitutional.

That meant that segregation had been declared illegal. But things weren't so easy in real life. The Civil Rights Movement was necessitated by white society's reluctance to accept blacks as their equals. It was no longer necessary for a black man to "know his place." But an unfortunately large number of whites, particularly in southern states, saw no reason to stop business as usual.

What a long, strange trip it's been. We Boomers have a lifetime of memories that probably, as mountains of memories go, aren't a whole lot different from any generation. Since the Industrial Revolution, quantum leaps in progress during one's lifetime have simply been par for the course.

However, looking back, it was a wild and crazy coincidence that the 200th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence took place during the coincidental rises of the polyester and disco eras. Yes, the massive celebration (so stinking big it's capitalized) that was the Bicentennial somehow hit at the same time that society in general hit what many call its sartorial and musical nadir.

I got a nice HO train set when I was fourteen years old. It cost nearly a hundred bucks, as I recall, a lot of money during that time. What's amazing is that the train engine was painted in red, white, and blue in full Bicentennial regalia, and I barely even noticed.

That's because painting big objects like train engines red, white, and blue was par for the course. Water towers, smokestacks, buildings, automobiles, buses, bridges, they were all tinted the three bold colors. We got used to it.

Generation gaps have always existed. The kids who grew up in the 1870's would always consider those newfangled horseless carriages to be a noisy waste of money. The generation who grew up with the first automobiles further stunned and alienated their parents by partying hard to jazz in the 1920's. But one of the greatest generation gaps in history was the one between Boomers and their parents and grandparents.

My father was born in 1919. He spent his teenaged years in the Great Depression. Pleasures and pastimes were few for him, as he weathered harsh economic times on a Minnesota farm. Poor dental hygiene cost him his teeth by the age of thirty. So entertainment and having fun were rather low on his list of priorities. In addition, he was put off by loud rock and roll music, and saw little rhyme or reason in the student protests of the 60's.

He was a great father, but you can see how his thinking and the thinking of his offspring would be so different.

The parents who worked so hard to provide great lives (including healthy teeth) for the post WWII-born children would one day find themselves on the opposite side of the fence, so to speak, with the cultural, musical, and political preferences of their children. For instance, to refuse to go to war in 1942 would have stigmatized an individual as yellow, or cowardly, or as a draft dodger. Some did seek conscientious objector status, but they bore the wrath of society for doing so.

Circa 1968, there probably wasn't an American Boomer kid alive who hadn't heard of Gumby and Pokey. However, a surprisingly large percentage of them knew them only as toys. There were over 200 TV episodes of Gumby and Pokey produced, yet their distribution via syndication was not nearly as encompassing as Leave It to Beaver, Sea Hunt, or the Donna Reed Show. Those canceled TV series were familiar afternoon fare for schoolkids all over the nation. But Gumby and Pokey didn't become widely seen on television until the Nickelodeon Network started showing their episodes in the late 80's.

Gumby was created by animator Art Clokey. In 1955, he created a claymation answer to Walt Disney's Fantasia called Gumbasia.

The short was a big hit, and Clokey was invited to create a series that would be featured on Howdy Doody. Gumby made his debut on the show in 1956, Pokey and the pesky blockheads showed up shortly afterward.

My daughter and son were born in 1986 and 1988. We lived in a small northwest Arkansas town with a population of about 12,000 back then. Yet, times had changed such from the 60's of my youth that they were supervised when they were outside. They either played in the fenced back yard or on the concrete driveway in the front. Leaving our property was not allowed.

What a contrast to the simpler days of our childhoods.

It was not uncommon for me to get out of bed in the morning, get dressed, and head out the door, not to return until dinnertime. And mom didn't have a problem with it, as long as I stayed out of trouble. The thought of keeping me home out of fear of being abducted or the like was unthinkable. After all, that sort of thing only took place in big cities, not little towns like Miami, Oklahoma.

What a wild, crazy, turbulent, jubilant, tragic decade was the 1960's. It began with lingering communist paranoia and ended with man walking on the moon.

However, nothing symbolized the end of the 60's quite as effectively as the breakup of the group that we listened to and whose albums and singles we bought by the hundreds of millions.

The 70's was definitely not going to be the same decade as its predecessor.

The Beatles were one of the most rapidly evolving rock and roll groups to have ever existed. By the time each new album was released, they were already heading a completely new and different direction in the recording studios. Their physical appearance changed as radically as their music, as hair began to grow profusely.

They began as a group, but by 1968, had developed an individually independent sound that resulted in The Beatles, more commonly known as The White Album. Indeed, the double album consists of the first solo projects of the soon-to-be-ex-Beatles. The fact that it stands on its own as a great work is a testament to the sheer immensity of talent of these working-class youths who met up in Liverpool all those years ago.

As we moved from the 60's into the 70's, we discovered something. We didn't like the 70's. Student protests turned into student apathy as the draft slowed down and finally disappeared. Everyone quit fighting for causes, and instead sat around thinking about themselves. Early in the decade, some termed it narcissistic.

I remember missing the 60's very much by about 1972. I missed the Beatles. I missed Get Smart. Entering my tumultuous teen years, I missed the more carefree days of being a little kid.

Apparently, I wasn't the only one pining for the past. Because the early 70's saw an unprecedented wave of nostalgia sweep the US, which stayed around right up until the start of the 80's. We all wanted to go back in time, and the decade that was most sought after was the 1950's.

By and large, the nostalgic wave was kicked off by George Lucas's brilliant low-budget smash American Graffiti. Lucas must have sensed the Boomer generation missing its youthful days when he envisioned a film about his own youthful cruising of Modesto's strip in hot rods circa 1962. But he probably didn't foresee what a smash the film would be, and the continuing flow of nostalgia that would follow.

Ah, the 70's. The Me Decade. The Polyester Era. The Disco Era. I think one more moniker should be added to the list. The Decade of the Blow Dryer.

During the 1970's, sales of hair dryers shot upwards, perhaps doubling. Why? Because MEN needed them now.

I mean think about it. Women have always had a need for hair dryers, but prior to the 70's, what the heck would a guy use one for? Yeesh, imagine a guy putting one of those plastic bubble dryers on his head like my mom used.

But then, along came The Dry Look. Suddenly, men who had dried their hair with a bath towel were sheepishly purchasing hair dryers. Only they weren't hair dryers. They were, you know, hot combs!

Just a few personal words today about where I Remember JFK has been, and where it's heading.

As you know, or perhaps don't, I woke up in the middle of the night last November with an idea for a cool website. Its premise would be if you could remember anything at all about JFK, even if it was just the news coverage of his unfortunate demise, then you would also remember whatever memory I threw your way. Why? Because I remember him, and I also remember (fill in the blank here).

Traffic is nice now, close to 15K visits monthly. It has grown steadily since the two big blasts caused by my February mention on CBS's The Early Show and my fortunate Kim Komando pick the next month.

I expect another nice steady acceleration to my rising number of visitors. I recently came to an agreement with aginghipsters.com to periodically feature my columns on their site.

One thing virtually every Baby boomer who grew up in the US has in common is a shared recollection of having various Wham-O toys out in the yard.

Wham-O produced the Hula Hoop, the Frisbee, and the SuperBall, of course, but they also made a whole slew of other toys that were very popular, though not the sensations that the previously mentioned trio were.

When the Beatles stepped off of that plane so many years ago, the entertainment industry changed permanently. The never-before-seen deluge of fan adoration was a bottomless well ready to be tapped. And no time was wasted in producing everything from little plastic guitars to Beatle-painted automobiles.

Little ABC, the perennial third-place network, cashed in on the Fab Four as well. They began showing The Beatles as a Saturday morning TV cartoon beginning on September 25, 1965.

And we Baby Boomer kids loved it.

The older members of the Boomer generation got to see lots of cool things. They watched Howdy Doody. They wore coonskin caps. They got to play with baking powder submarines.

However, they also held a dread of one day turning eighteen. The draft was on, and a particularly nasty war was ongoing. Kids (and I mean that literally, as I was certainly a kid when I was eighteen) had to make profound decisions. Would they opt for ROTC? Would they volunteer for a more appealing form of service than the swamp-wading, booby-trap avoiding Army grunt? Or would they stay in school, or apply for CO status, or, head for Canada?

WWII brought about shortages of many basic commodities. One of these was rubber. Rubber was needed for military purposes, and there wasn't enough of it.

A Scottish engineer named James Wright was looking for a man-made rubber substiitute. He was trying all sorts of mixtures of chemical compounds at the General Electric laboratory in New Haven, Connecticut.

Wright combined boric acid and silicone oil in one experiment. To his delight, it polymerized into a rubbery substance! He excitedly shared his creation with his employers and they began sending samples to other engineers all over the world, looking for a proposed use of the hard-won artificial rubber.

The results were silence. Not one practical idea for the bouncing putty emerged from the educated minds.

Is it just me, or are very few kids walking to school these days compared to when we Boomers grew up?

The school situation in Bentonville, Arkansas has been whacked at least since my kids were in school. We've had a population explosion here for thirty years and perennially have too few seats in the classrooms. Not only that, my kids weren't allowed to attend the elementary school close to my house. Instead, they had to ride a bus to one several miles away.

Shades of forced busing to achieve integration!