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

We Boomers saw the decline, fall, and disappearance of many things during our lifetimes. One of these once-familiar sights that has become much more rare is the hood ornament.

Once upon a time, hood ornaments graced the exposed radiator caps of cars built in the 30's and 40's. They were often exquisite art deco creations, and are, of course, avidly sought after by collectors.

But as radiator caps disappeared, hood ornaments continued to hold a proud position on the cars our parents drove. And we kids of the 50's and 60's were used to seeing twenty-year-old automobiles, complete with hood ornaments that defined the era.

For example, flying ladies typified the 30's and 40's. Airplanes began to appear in the 40's, to be displaced by jets in the 50's.

One of the biggest shocks to hit us Boomer kids was hearing our voices recorded for the first time.

In the 50's and 60's, tape recorders were far from common. The devices were costly, and our fathers were too busy spring for pricey essentials like color televisions to consider spending as much as fifty hard-earned dollars on such a useless gadget.

But about 1968, a house guest brought over a gadget that would for the first time reveal to me what I would consider to be my high, pipsqueak voice: a portable tape recorder.

The human skull causes one's own voice to reverberate and deepen before it reaches the ears of the speaker. Therefore, the untainted product as captured straight form its source invariably sounds higher than what one is used to.

We Baby Boomers remember that Kool-Aid was always king, but once had some pretty serious competition.

Back in the late 1950's, an artificial sweetener called Cyclamate was legalized for use within the USA. Adoption was slow at first, but soft drink manufacturers soon figured out that in addition to low calories, its benefits included having none of the energy rush that sugar did. ergo, moms could allow their children to imbibe prodigious amounts of Cyclamate-sweetened drinks with no fear of the kids bouncing off of the walls afterwards.

Pillsbury decided to give Kool-Aid a run for their money in 1964. Funny Face drink mixes were pre-sweetened with Cyclamates, and advertising made the benefits to harried mothers very evident. The result was big sales.

Kids loved the advertising too. The drinks came with names like Goofy Grape, Loudmouth Lime, Rootin' Tootin' Raspberry, and Freckle Face Strawberry. Oh, there were also two very politically incorrect flavors, Chinese Cherry, and Injun Orange. (gasp!)

What would a hot summer day be without a tall glass of iced tea? Or what would a bourbon on the rocks be without the rocks?

In the scheme of things that are essential to life, ice cubes probably rate quite a ways down the list. But as far as the enjoyment of life is concerned, ice cubes are as essential as fuzzy slippers, the love of the right person, or your team winning the World Series.

We Boomer kids can recall when ice cubes were strictly a hit-or-miss proposition. Theoretically, we had plenty of them in the freezer. But in practice, getting cubes out of those infernally buggy aluminum ice cube trays was an act of skill, blind luck, and the grace of the freezer gods.

Oh, and don't forget the wrath that would come down from mom and dad when a tray was left with one or two cubes of ice in it, instead of being refilled as we knew we should have done.

Ah, the love/hate relationship that we have with vending machines. on the one hand, it's pleasant not to deal with a surly convenience store clerk behind bulletproof glass, on the other, getting ripped off involves taking on a machine weighing much more than one's self, with possibly disastrous results.

But by and large, with the exception of manhandling larcenous machines, the experience of popping in currency and retrieving merchandise has gotten much more mechanized than when we Boomer kids were, well, kids.

For instance, a vending machine typically has rows of chips, candy bars, etc. behind glass with corkscrew mechanisms that operate when you push buttons. You hear a little whir, your prize drops, you walk away.

It's with mixed feelings that I present today's I remember JFK memory. You see, my very thrifty father simply saw no reason to spend 15 cents on a copy of TV Guide, so we didn't have the diminutive periodical in our house when I was a child. However, I would see copies of it next to easy chairs at my friends' homes, so I grew familiar with its concise weekly program listings anyway.

When there were three or four channels on television, TV guide reigned supreme.

TV Guide, the national publication, debuted on April 3, 1953. The cover had a photo of Lucy and Ricky's baby, "Little Ricky." The magazine was designed to replace local program listings that were published by big-city newspapers, although, curiously, both genres have continued to exist side-by-side ever since.

Its aim was to present television's listings accurately, and to provide pointed commentary on its content at the same time.

Here's a memory so obscure that I could barely find anything on the web about it! That's good news for the next curious seeker of obscure knowledge, because they'll find THIS article.

Today, I write about little plastic critters that once lived on the edge of your styrofoam cup full of ice cold drink that was brought to your hands by a carhop, probably on roller skates.

We had a local chain in the Miami, Oklahoma area called Sonic. You've probably heard of them, they have since gone on to a much more nationwide presence. But in 1967, they were an Oklahoma phenomenon, and one of the things that they did to distinguish themselves from the competition was provide those incredibly brightly colored little mermaids, elephants, swordfish, monkeys, and a veritable menagerie of other creatures.

Perhaps you grew up with Sonic drive-ins. If not, I'll bet a similar 1960's eatery would decorate your drink with the miniaturized animals and such. They would profligate in kitchen junk drawers, along with matchbooks, 45 inserts, and other gewgaws too cool to throw away. They would also show up hanging from rear view mirrors, frequently in the form of monkeys linked tail-to-tail.