The University of Texas Phi Delta Theta fraternity denied imitating the then-popular Late Night With David Letterman habit of dropping stuff of the Ed Sullivan Theater, asserting that their annual “Round-Up Roof Extravaganza” began prior to the show’s first air date. Earlier drops included eggs and melons, then televisions and microwaves, and finally (as seen in this 1987 image) a motorcycle. I guess they weren’t familiar with collateral damage?
School starts Monday around these parts. The schedules have been mailed, the teachers assigned. And when the bank teller this morning asked my son if he was excited about school, he glared, then dropped his head, a wavy lock of hair falling forward in defeat. It was enough to make him forget the crisp Grant in his hand. Excited? No, ma’am.
But what if he gets the top locker? That’s something to get excited about, right?
Or he might get that one “cool teacher.”
Perhaps he can enjoy the responsibility and comraderie of flag-raising.
And if nothing else, he can stand around while girls read in the library. The elation cannot be disguised on these boys’ faces!
When it comes to housework, men often don’t pay attention to details. They’re busy dealing with man-sized problems at the office. That’s why they married you in the first place, to deal with domestic issues. But even Mr. Henderson can see that his wife’s laundering skills simply don’t measure up to Kay’s Tide-fresh linens. It’s as plain as the tie pin on his tie.
And if Kay has the cleanest wash, that can only mean that Mrs. Henderson does not. Why can’t she get it together? Doesn’t Mr. Henderson deserve a clean blue oxford shirt to wear to work? Is it too much to ask of his inept sad sack of a spouse?
Mrs. Henderson is flustered, losing her mind over the sight of Kay’s sexy and fresh negligee, blowing in the breeze. Why can’t she measure up? Uh-oh, better get Miltown.
Way to go, Kay; you’ve destroyed another marriage with your laundry hubris.
You can bet Dad takes coffee breaks at his office job, so why not Mom? After all, nothing tastes or smells as good as coffee. Before happy hour, that is. And Mom works super hard.
“Such a mellow, bracing drink.” Yes, that’s exactly how I feel about it. Just like invigorating sea air.
You know, before there was texting or internet or TV after 10pm, America had a lot of time on its hands. Time to read 500-word ads on products they already used. And they appreciated informational tidbits that didn’t require an encyclopedia.
Yep, that’s exactly how happy blonde senoritas dressed as they picked coffee beans, in off-the-shoulder frocks and matching handkerchiefs. Apple-pickers set the precedent back in the 1940s. See for yourself how put-together this lady is. Why, even her roots look good!
I better start accessorizing when I go rip figs off our tree out back. I’ve really dropped the ball on that one.
The pages of my many 1950s Life magazines are so brittle that they crumble into pieces as I gently turn them. In an effort to preserve their fun images for posterity, I offer you scenes from a mischievous boys’ camp from summer 1954.
Those boys were scoundrels! What nowadays could be construed as grounds for a lawsuit was all in good fun. I’m sure glad I was never the victim of a watery dawn raid.
I can attest that local bowling alleys around these here parts offer greasy enchiladas for those patrons with rumbly tummies, but never Asian fare. Certainly not tea pots of hot jasmine tea and family pu pu platters. Evidently it was imperative that all males wear jackets and ties to the bowling alley. And then the jackets came off once they hit the floor.
This family could not be having more fun. The helicopter lady in the background could repurpose her ensemble for Saturday’s tennis match as well.
Bowling centers provide “attractive nurseries for toddlers”? Have you ever witnessed this to be so? They must have put the kibosh on this well before I was born. And hey, have you ever seen the inner workings of the “almost-human machines”? Pretty keen.
So get out there and do some summer bowling before it’s too late!
In most cases, the lady donning a lavender turtleneck with a sunflower gold vest would clearly be the one who makes bad judgment calls. But in this case, it’s Blondie with the arched back. Or perhaps it’s not arched at all. Perhaps she is planking on another piece of cinder block, tightening those abs while she gazes into Kurt’s crow’s-feety eyes. What a colorful crew this is! 
All I know for sure is that the hamburger buns are well done. And that if you’re grilling up meat out on the lake, ain’t nobody got time for brushing after meals. P.S. Whatever happened to GL-70? And how cute is this box turtle? Talk about neck extension.
Despite the Rocky Horror Magenta lookalike, this wasn’t even Halloween; just another day in 1972.
…and then we can be as happy as they were in December 1968!
Billy carts…not to be confused with Billy Carter.
I Don't Get It 