Nostalgia – Page 183 – I Don't Get It

Too Much Head

I just got another stack of old magazines, and this ad jumped out at me from a 1960 Look.

What’s right with this ad:

Sexy moodlight
Her smooth, parted hair, clipped low at the neck.
It rhymes. That’s pretty cool. “Put the finest label on your table.”

What’s odd with this ad:

He’s pouring Miller (the champagne of bottled beer) from one presumably cold glass container into another. What was wrong with the bottle? I’ve never understood that. And he’s not even tilting the pint glass to reduce that drastic amount of head. Hold it at at a 45° angle!
Miller is from Milwaukee. Why does this ad look so Polynesian? Is this a theme party with Mediterranean olives and French bread and Greek spit-roasted lamb?
I’m frightened by the menacing tiki sculpture in the background. It looks like one of those angry apple trees in The Wizard of Oz.

http://www.houseofhawthornes.com/

The seasonal conflict: his shirt says winter, her dress says summer.
His apron is too clean. Somebody had to rub that meat.
This is too much food for two skinny white people. In fact, the lettuce appears to be making a getaway from the salad bowl. And you know such a demure, classy woman would never dare to consume more than 4 oz of meat at a time. Perhaps that partially lit door indicates a patio party. And those half a dozen plates imply guests are coming.
If they are preparing for said patio party, why aren’t they arguing? You know he didn’t buy all the ingredients she asked him to pick up at the store. He should have brought a pen to cross them off the list, like she told him a million times. Perhaps her look is one of passive aggressive seething rage. He’ll get his later.
He knows he’ll get his later. That’s why he’s topping off his third glass already. The fact that he forgot their anniversary last weekend didn’t help matters. Keep drinking, Ted. Keep drinking.

Gratitude To All Who Served, Part II

And to my great-uncle, Al, who is still going strong as well–Happy Veteran’s Day!

Gratitude To All Who Served, Part I

And to my 93-year-old grandfather, Happy Veteran’s Day!

Camel And Flare Red

There’s no denying the magical combination of camel and flare red, and no better time to cover your body with it than fall. Autumn. November. And that’s NOW. So go get your camel and flare red on!

The youth of today love Taylor Swift, and even she proclaims, “Loving him was red.” Look at those models and how interested they are in that gawky adolescent boy, holding a strawberry malted. Loving him is undeniably red.

WOW–even the sign is in camel and flare red! What a power couple–like Kim and Kanye, without the limitless ego and shameless self-promotion.

Jessica Simpson knows what time it is: time to carry a Fendi leather bag. In camel and flare red.

Nevermind that she’s still in character as Daisy Duke in those ratty shorts that are binding up at her crotch, and please overlook the shoulder-padded jacket she stole from Melanie Griffith in Working Girl. The point is the BAG. The neutral and the POP of color.

But let’s not get distracted. It’s not the Hump Day Camel.

Nor is it Jennifer Aniston’s flair in Office Space.

And certainly not these flares.

It’s camel and flare red! You must admit there’s no denying the magic of camel and red.

See how happy he is?

Like Dig What’s New

For people of my generation, Bob Denver will forever be Gilligan, the Skipper’s “Little Buddy.” But to my parents’ generation, Bob Denver remains Maynard G. Krebs from The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis (also known as simply Dobie Gillis ), a sitcom that aired from 1959 to 1963. Maynard was TV’s first beatnik and jive-talking bongo player, and wannabe hepcats thought he was cool. Even Montgomery Ward took notice and offered trim tapered cotton ivy shirts for those in the know.

In case you missed it, here’s a close-up:

So it wasn’t Moon Zappa or Valley Girls who coined “like” after all. Mainstream American catalogs were doing it way back in 1962. They even used Maynard’s bongo-playing likeness to sell their combed cotton eversheen coats.

Facial hair? What the what? And check out these bobble heads. I wonder what they’d be worth today, American Pickers? Antiques Road Show? Pawn Stars? Anyone?

In case you’ve never seen Maynard in action, here’s a clip of him, showing his classmates the first portable music player, so he can listen to smooth jazz.

Ain’t it a gasser?

No Hat Rack For The Regulars

This was too good not to share–a drugstore in Leakey, Texas in 1973.

Thick, Thirsty Terrycloth

You all know my beef with wearing pajamas in public: NOT ACCEPTABLE. Not to the mailbox, not to walk your kids to the bus stop, not even to put your trash out on trash day. No, sir, we don’t do that. And that goes for slippers, too.

Not in the ghetto, not in the store, not in the driveway, do it no more.

Seriously, big fella? Did you think we wouldn’t notice?

And just because you are at Wal-Mart does not give a grown-ass woman free reign to wear onesies, especially with a faux designer bag.

Footsies! Really?

The only way this would EVER be acceptable is if you ran out of your burning house in the middle of the night, and ran straight to Wal-Mart to purchase bonafide normal clothes, appropriate for all to see, and you had the PRESENCE OF MIND to change into said new clothes in their rank restrooms before actually exiting the building.

The only other alternative I can see is to time travel back to 1962 and purchase any sleepwear from Montgomery Ward because I have thumbed through that ’62 Fall & Winter catalogue, and let me tell you–the pj’s are nicer than today’s styles.

Yes, these were sold as pajamas–cotton flannelettes, to be exact. Why, look at how gay and merry these ladies look! One’s got a telescope. That’s science!

And don’t be fooled into thinking you can’t look hip and trendy in these modest choices. These were made for sleeping, not twerking, but there’s nothing “square” about a shift gown. It says so right in the ad!

Before viewing this ad, I didn’t even realize I NEEDED a bonnet to accessorize my sleepwear. See how it helps her with those fancy yoga moves?

And let’s don’t forget the fellas. Why wear a wifebeater and pajama bottoms with the name of the university that you only attended for one semester twenty years ago when you could wear this?

Go ahead; bring your pipe. What’s not to love with so many colors and prints? This guy is right on time.

And hey, so what if you’ve packed on some pounds after turning 40? Hide that flabby belly underneath one of these swank terry robes, also in TALL and STOUT. That means 170 lbs in 1962.

And let’s not forget the kids. These pajama sets are publicly presentable.

Makes me want to take a trip to Dream Town myself! Those ski pajamas could go from bed to elementary school in no time. Why change at all when it’s so fashion forward? But leave the sleepers at home, kids. Those plastic soles won’t cut it on today’s asphalt parking lots.

Seriously, don’t Betty, Tommy, Sarah, and Mike look smart? Nothing outdated about these Easter eggshell pastels. I suddenly want to eat some Jordan Almonds. Hey, let’s get in the station wagon and get some at Wal-mart. But first, let me make sure I’ve got my 1962 pajama set on. I don’t want to look like I’ve given up on every dream I ever had or lost every last shred of dignity.

Long Island Body Double

I came across this photo of Miss Catalina Lozano in a 1967 yearbook for the Schreiner Institute. I had to do a double-take, as she looks eerily like the daughter of Theresa Caputo, the Long Island Medium.

At the time the yearbook portrait was taken, Theresa Caputo had yet to be born. But I’d venture to say Catalina looks more like Victoria than Theresa herself.

http://www.poptower.com/victoria-caputo-long-island-medium-picture-67202.htm

Same flowing brunette locks, same Cocker Spaniel brown eyes, same nose, same lips…Victoria plus 1960s eyeliner equals Miss Chihuahua 1967. That’s all there is to it.

http://www.listal.com/viewimage/5476018

Catalina Lozano

You Mean We Don’t Need Seven Remotes For One TV?

Back in the day, all you needed was four buttons to access ALL 82 channels. That’s right up my alley. Simplicity. Why have we made this so complicated from what it was in 1980?

Jupiter is still a bonafide planet, right?

The new RCA FD500 had everything one could want, including programming a week’s worth of shows. Who needs TIVO? Not only did it shut itself off after The Late Show, but it could turn your lamps off and on intermittently to ward off would-be robbers and thugs. Let’s hope they didn’t know you had scored the latest RCA, or you were done for! Even the AutoProgrammer could wake you up. No alarm needed!

And the colors were so vibrant! See how right the colors can be.

Yep, I think that’s pretty much all the colors.

I recall we were all a lot thinner then, but THIS IS RIDICULOUS. Somebody feed her! She is about to collapse under the weight of her videocamera!

And if you’re gonna do it, do it right. Don’t skimp on lesser models when you could go full on stately cabinet, pecan-veneered Marandino.

Or the Glenrich, a contemporary highboy. Oh, that’s a good name for a blog, come to think of it. Maybe I’ll change mine. Anyhoo, the point is not to skimp. You want to watch Thursday’s Mork and Mindy and Bosom Buddies in style, don’t you? Just think, you could be THIS guy.

The Blood of Young Runaways

How do I stay so healthy and boyishly handsome? It’s simple. I drink the blood of young runaways.–William Shatner

When you think of fitness, Jane Fonda or Denise Austin may come to mind. But no doubt William Shatner isn’t far behind.

Don't point that thing at me! — Don’t point that thing at me!

In the newest acquisition to my library…

…Shatner explains his health and fitness secrets.

In the last thirty years, his metabolism slowed, as metabolisms do. Here he is retrieving a discarded french fry on a Hawaiian beach.

But this is nothing new. Folks have made mockery of his midsection for many years.

In fact, Captain Kirk appears to be sickened by the mere thought of Sweating to the Oldies.

www.aoltv.com (does AOL even exist any more?) — http://www.aoltv.com

Uh-oh! Someone got a little too close to that flame!

Actually, the flame was due less to Richard Simmons and more to the perils of frying turkey for Thanksgiving, which Shatner discusses here:

Flame-free and portly, he’s still truckin’ at 82 years old (and several months older than Regis!). Last year, he performed in a one-man show on Broadway, called Shatner’s World: We Just Live in It, and he makes consistent appearances on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno. Clearly, he’s having the last laugh.

Not bad for a Canadian.

Still The Boss

Get a load of those proud roosters…

http://nypost.com/2013/09/21/joseph-gordon-levitt-tony-danza-reunite-in-don-jon/

Most of us remember Antonio Salvatore Ladanza from his TV series Taxi or later, Who’s The Boss? but Tony Danza is also an accomplished boxer, tap dancer, and Broadway actor. And as you can see from the picture above, in his latest movie, Don Jon, this 62-year-old is still pretty ripped. He explained that he did nothing to prepare physically for the role,; he maintains this level of fitness from his years as a prize fighter. But I have a celebrity fitness book from 1983 that reveals his secret:

“YOU CAN STAY IN SHAPE WITH JUST SEX AND NOTHING ELSE. THEN, YOU CAN EAT ALL THE MACARONI YOU WANT.”

At the time, he was still acting on Taxi with Marilu Henner, who has said that he wanted to “drill a hole through her dressing room wall.” Apparently, this misplaced testosterone could lead to barroom brawls, if not directed into workouts. Here he is punching a speed bag.

I particularly enjoyed the last line of the interview: “I’m self-conscious because I’m getting older–I just turned 32.” Scoff if you will, but many celebrities never made it past the age of 32: Karen Carpenter and Cass Elliot (talk about night and day), as well as Bruce Lee, Keith Moon, and one of the guys in Milli Vanilli. Congratulations, Tony, on maintaining your fitness in the 30 years since this was published. And here’s to 30 more. Buon lavoro!

Inside Yank, Part II

Yank addressed the realities of the American soldier in his own words, from discharge to depression, all in one panel.

This issue summed up the progress made in the war over the past year, without mincing words (B-29s pounded hell out of the Jap mainland).

The common bond of a shared experience gave comfort to men who had been to hell and back. Humor was often the best salve.

Here a British soldier conveys the perception of American soldiers as lousy lovers:

Grand company indeed.

Interesting words from FDR, who had passed only eight months prior to this publication.

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