Weird 70s flip books

You already know how much I love 70s stylin'. Check out this book for a great example. Look at her hair!

You flip the pages up or down at the point of the spiral binder, so you can create lots of weird combinations of different pictures. Here's another flipped version.

Love how psychadelic and weird this is. Has anyone else saved one of these? I can't find examples of them anywhere.

Old Seattle TV: King 5 brings teh sexeh

I got a kick out of this old King 5 news promo clip.

First, Jean Enerson could wear that orange blouse and and chunky necklace and still be in style today. Wow. Not sure what that says about today's fashion. And Jean Enerson, still on King 5, doesn't look much different.

Then later, about the obviously named Seattle Tonight Tonite (yes, it was really named that. Seattle hipster irony did not exist in the 70s, apparently)….uh…is it me or is Dick Klinger trying to be sexy? Keep watching and listen for the music, which is also trying to be sexy. It somehow manages to be funny, though, rather than sexy, but that could be my inner snarkstress rearing her snarky head.

My mom will kill me for telling you this, but she thought Dick Klinger was hot.

Watch it here.

You may celebrate in slow motion

Join me in a joyous dorkdance and order your Bionic Woman Season 1 on DVD today.

What, your memory is hazy about this splendid series about a 70s chick with the coolest mid-mod house ever, great hair, and a bionic dog named Max? Let me refresh your memory.

Amazingly not departed: Tri-chem "paint"

One of the dorkiest craft ideas ever is amazingly still around: Tri-chem. I bet your mom had a case of these little metal tubes of "paint" that she used to create spectacularly stupid dish towels with streaky drawings of owls or puppy dogs. I bet she tried to make you do Tri-chem, too, insisting that you Need a Hobby and it's a Fun Thing We Can Do Together. Or maybe that was just my mom. (I love you, Mom, but even you did this crafty stuff reluctantly.)

I get acutely uncomfortable on the rare occassions I need to visit a craft store. I think it's the smell of middle age dorkdom that wafts past the silk flowers and cheap candles. Or possibly it's that craft stores remind me of my own inadequacies as a crafter, an anxiety which can perhaps be traced to childhood Tri-chem frustration. It's all your fault, Tri-chem! 

The little metal tubes with their ball-point tips never seemed to give much paint, and what little paint you squeezed out never seemed to go on smoothly. Tri-chem was marketed as liquid embroidery; you used a metal frame to hold the material while you filled in pre-stamped pictures. I remember feeling frustrated and annoyed and not even liking the finished product, which did not resemble embroidery at all.

Check out this awesome picture of a Trichem party--like a Tupperware party, but even more lame. Trust me when I say our finished creations didn't look nearly as good as those in the picture.

Tri-chem has been rebranded for today's hip craftsters (are there really hip craftsters?): listen to the plucky little score and watch the video on their website. The paints are probably better formulated now and I'm sure the patterns are less cheesy. But I'd still probably create only streaky craftbarrassments.

Not dearly departed: flocked wallpaper

Those crazy kids at Retro Renovation were praising mid-century wallpaper this week. (Just kidding about the "crazy kids" thing. I love them, even if I don't always share their tastes.)  Which got me to thinking about the truly hideous wallpaper in the 60s rambler I grew up in. I remember helping my parents pull off little tiny bits of a dark olive green flocked wallpaper on what would be my baby brother's bedroom. And by "flocked," I mean a raised felt-y pattern. I think it was only on one wall, an "accent wall, " if you will.

The wallpaper was awful. Just...awful. Even the LBHG doesn't like everything from the 70s.

Click here for more 70s wallpaper ideas. If you must.

Back-to-school bags: old skool backpacks

Every year around Labor Day, I was excited to get a new plasticy vinyl bag to start school. Below is one I managed to save. The little girl with the flowers in her hair is just too cute. Would this qualify as ephemera, even if it's not really paper? I can't imagine many of these survived 35 years--I couldn't find any on ebay or anywhere else on the 'net. Anyone find any?

Lesson: fail. But the book was great

You know how parents like to give you lessons disguised as things you actually like? I think that was the point of this book, which I read over and over and memorized. I can still recite some of the lines today.

Being neat and tidy has never been my thing (except for the canopy bed; see below for details.) This book didn't help.

How cool and 70s-esque are the colors and artwork?

And so goes the fusty dusty musty mess she made of her nice pink room.

My (almost) first cake: Stir'n Frost

In my evolution as a baker, sometime after saucer-sized, hockey puck-like Easy Bake Oven cakes came Betty Crocker Stir'n Frost Cakes. The cardboard-y pan, cake mix, and frosting all came in the box--you were even supposed to mix the cake batter in the pan (no need to dirty a bowl!) After the cake was done, you squeezed the frosting out of the foil packet. You didn't even need a knife to spread the sticky frosting--you just dragged the foil packet around the top of the cake.

Kid-sized, kit-ized, and sugar-ized. Anyone remember the other flavors? I remember only the chocolate.

And there's no truth to the rumor my hair looked exactly like that little girl's hair, or that I repeatedly combed it throughout the day so that it would flip back just like hers.

My Sears canopy bed, 1976-style

When I was seven or eight,  I mentioned casually to my grandparents that I wanted a canopy bed. On my next birthday, one magically appeared in my bedroom. (The pic above includes my dear friend, Kelly Knight, who did not magically appear with the bed. But this was the only pic of my bed I could find, so I hope she forgives me for publishing her picture. Hi, Kelly, wherever you are!)

Talk about a bed making a little girl feel like a princess. I even made the bed and put the stuffed animals in the same places every day.

This Sears commercial features a similar bed frame in white, but it's a bit later, I think.

Old Seattle that's still here: Seafair

Like much of Old Seattle That's Still Here, Seafair makes me happy.

Seafair is Seattle's summer celebration. It culminates in the hydroplane boat races and Blue Angels performance over Lake Washington. I know it makes no sense that I wrinkle my nose at the mere idea of NASCAR, but I like the hydroplane races. And you know that I'm going to say the hydroplane races were better when I was a kid.

The races really were better, though! The race course was laid out differently back then, and drivers careened throgh five laps. Old piston engines were loud and not quite as fast as todays' turbine engines, and longtime random rivalries formed among brightly colored boats and drivers. Old hydros gave moments of real excitment--kind of like horse racing--with boats barely edging past one another at 100 miles per hour.

Maybe the best part about Seafair Sunday was seeing my mom in rare moments of happiness and excitment, enjoying Her Day, when she didn't cook or clean or take care of others, but merely cheered in front of the blaring TV with her potato salad (made efficiently the day before) and cooler filled with can after can of 7-Up.

And it all happened in the glare and glint of a magical Seattle summer day.

Check out general Seafair info here, the hydroplane museum here, and more cool vintage hydroplanes here.

30 years later and they still smell

I'm not talking about the Seattle Mariners, either. (A little weak Seattle humor, there, for you local people. To love a Seattle sports team--any Seattle sports team--is to have your heart broken. Repeatedly.)

Anyway, I am talking about my Strawberry Shortcake doll. Amazingly, she still smells faintly of fake strawberriness. And she has flat hands, which appear to make her more valuable to collectors. Not that I would sell such a thing.

Old greeting cards from Packrat World

Now you now how truly pack-rat-y I am: here are two cards from my 4th birthday.  I love the bright colors and 70s styling on these!  They are addressed to Baby Jo inside.

The floppy eared dog was a perfect choice for a little girl who already loved her dog so much that she (the dog, Penny) slept with her under her crib and growled at anyone who came near her.

Did I mention I've saved a LOT of stuff from my childhood? 

Tragically named and extremely discontinued: AYDS candy

My mom kept a box of these in the cupboard with the dishes…and the medicine. We weren’t supposed to eat them. They were For Adults.

So of course, we promptly ate them. They tasted kind of like fudge, but with that familiar, weird vitamin-y aftertaste. I figured they contained some type of amphetamine or something that swelled up in your stomach. Originally, AYDS apparently contained Benzocaine, a topical anesthetic, which aimed to dull your taste buds. Later, they (the AYDS, not your taste buds) hyped you up with phenylpropanolamine. Seriously. It was in the New York Times.

Check out the commercials for AYDS. AYDS are just little candies. They won't hurt you. Really!

Gee, I don’t know why they were taken off the market, what with the clever name, sweet, kid-enticing taste, and legalized speed...

That clown head: more Seattle summer fun

We've been having a rare heat wave in Seattle. Which reminded me of one of my favorite summer toys from the cool people at Wham-o: the Fun Fountain, which my mother called "That Clown Head."

Not as grand and glorious as the Slip N Slide, but pretty fun nonetheless, except when your little brother kept knocking the hat off so that all that remained of the fun was a stream of water shooting straight up while you stood there shivering in your bathing suit because like Mom said it was only 75 degrees and not really warm enough to run through the sprinkler and you wanted to go back inside and change after about 15 minutes so you could watch "Speed Racer."

Anyway, watch the commercial here. The kids in the commercial probably didn't live in Seattle, where it almost never hits 90 degrees.

Buying dolls at gas stations

Do they still sell collectible stuff at gas stations? I mean, beyond the constant new and exciting processed snack food products like Slim Jim Honey Jalapeno Cheddar Stixxs or Reese's Double Super White Nougat Caramel Peanut Fluffyballs.

I mean stuff like these dolls I excitedly collected in the mid-70s.  Each represented a nationality (Ireland, England, and Spain, above.) I can't find any info on these dolls online, so please let me know if you remember them or have some in your closet, too.

Dearly departed deliciousness: Marathon candy bars

A Marathon bar was so huge, it felt like you were getting the biggest candy bar in the world. Two candy bars, even. Definitely more candy than your little brother, anyway.

This candy bar was so good, it even has its own Facebook fan group.

You already know how I feel about this kind of thing, but here’s a modern imitation, if you must, from the very cool folks at oldtimecandy.com

Stringy, chewy, teeth-coating caramel, offering itself in twirly abundance. But nevermore.

Speaking of memories, I bet you don't remember this game

Nobody remembers Worm Wrestle except me and my little brother. Please post and tell me if you remember it!

I can't say this game was anything other than weird and goofy. The worms spin around the miniature wrestling ring, propelled by contact with a rapidly spinning spindle in the center of the ring. (The metal spindle spun extremely fast; I'd be surprised if some kid didn't hurt himself by licking it or putting it in his nose. "Hey, let's play Booger Wrestle!") Meanwhile, if your chosen colored worm was the last one remaining in the ring, you'd win. Even for a kid's game, this required remarkably little skill and involvement.

Check out the commercial for it here.

Dearly departed deliciousness: Carnation Breakfast Bars

Dry and crumbly on the inside; sweet and chemical-tasting on the outside: Carnation Breakfast Bars, I miss you desperately.

Because vitamins were added to you, we believed you were healthy. Sugar and hydrogenated oils? Of course--but you were healthier than a candy bar or a Pop Tart, so Mom felt good about giving you to us. Why, you even had granola, which was the healthiest thing around because the hippies ate it.

If Carnation ever makes you again, o delicious, foil-wrapped, vitamin-packed, artificially tasty wonder, I'll be the first in line to buy you.

Memories I wish I had

I'm departing a bit here from my usual kid memories to talk about some adult-ish memories I wish I'd had. If you see this movie, you'll wish you remembered these bands, too: Cookin' Bag. Black and White Affair. Cold, Bold & Together. Soul Swingers. And if you remember these bands already, bless you.

I geek-freak out every year at the Seattle International Film Festival (which is why you haven't heard from me for a bit. I'm geeking until the festival ends.) I have big love for American indie film and even bigger love for documentaries. Throw in local Seattle music history and I'm bursting with fruit flavor at the mere thought. Enter Wheedle's Groove.

Wheedle's Groove tells the unsung story of Seattle's rhythm and blues/funk scene in the late 60s and early 70s--which would have been an interesting enough story for diehard music lovers. But the fact that many of these bands were such amazing talents--as good or better than their more-famous contemporaries--makes the story even more compelling. And the music? Um, it grooves like Sly and the Family Stone. Or maybe Earth Wind & Fire. Take a listen.

Why didn't any of these talented musicians and singers (save for Kenny G) become famous? Blame disco, racism, Seattle isolation, the rain, or something.

Last night's screening was attended by not only the director (Jennifer Maas) but also several of the musicians featured in the movie, many of whom now live ordinary lives in Seattle.

Oh, and that Wheedle thing? The Wheedle on the Needle was the Seattle Supersonics' early, hairily orange mascot.

I want bionic boobs

Not really. But a bionic, uh, head of hair would be great!

But seriously, Lindsey Wagner as The Bionic Woman was one of my idols growing up. (She was kinda like Marie Osmond, only with lighter hair and better tennis skills.) I loved that she was beautiful and athletic both. And smart.

I used to wear my hair much like Jamie Sommers' hair and I copied the way Lindsey ran one hand through it (her hair, not my hair),  in what I thought was a very cool, casually elegant gesture.

My favorite episode, which nearly made me pee my pants with fear, was "Doomsday is Tommorow." The Bionic Woman talks to a computer named ALEX 7000 who, in a very evil turn of events, tries to kill her with things like oxygen-eating foam. No, really--it's scary even today. Take a look at this clip. And how cute is her outfit, despite being in mortal danger while she tries to save the world from a doomsday device that will Kill Us All? It just wouldn't do to repair your bionic leg with an unattractive neckline!

I'm of two minds about the show as seen through adult eyes. The show sometimes is almost campy and scenery-chewy and at other times is genuinely interesting and well-done.

I've been waiting for The Bionic Woman on DVD for years. Now hulu.com has the first season available, which I've been enjoying. A lot. Hulu on my laptop is not quite the same as DVDs on my huge TV on a rainy Sunday while I'm drinking milkshakes and eating nachos, but Hulu will have to do until the DVD set is released, supposedly later this year.

Dearly departed deliciousness: Flicks candy

But wait, LBHG, you say. They still make Flicks, you say.

Alas, they make only a chocolate-flavored product in a tube that calls itself Flicks. But this product is not the Flicks of my childhood. Not the Flicks my grandma would buy me at Food Giant in West Seattle. Not the Flicks that slid out of their bright red tube directly into my mouth. Not the Girardelli Flicks made of real chocolate.

The original Flicks' wrapper is here at the geekily cool Candy Wrapper Museum.

Click if you must see the new Flicks. But I warned you.

I'm a Cancer, and my name is LBHG

This is going to come across as an inappropriate song for a child to remember. And really, this blog is about 70s kid memories, not 70s adult memories.

But I had this song on a K-Tel cassette tape. Even as a kid, I thought it was over the top silly. Today it comes across as two steps past creepy into funny.

If you don't remember it, you have to listen. You just have to. Click to hear the swoony, the romantic, the snigger-inducing Floaters with "Float On."

This song honestly contains the line "sharing your love with Larry." Swear to God.

Wakadoo, muskrats, and Patti Smith

Kids are people, too. Could a television show in the 70s make you feel validated and important? This show thought so. Remember the theme song yet? I believe Wakadoo was the show's mascot dog.

I remember being desperately sick with a stomach virus and watching an episode on our black and white portable TV in which Maureen McGovern sang "The Morning After," and life seemed impossibly sad. Hey...I was sick, okay?

The show attracted some interesting and surprisingly big stars, including Kiss. And Patti Smith. Really. Nothing says "role model for kids" like barfing blood onstage and angry punk screaming. Oh, and Patti Smith sang "You Light Up my Life." Click here if you don't believe me. Patti turns corn syrup into wine on national TV. You absolutely must listen.

Meanwhile, on the other end of the musical coolness spectrum, here the show's house band, Special Delivery, joins Captain & Tenielle for a rousing rendition of one of the most fetid songs ever, "Muskrat Love." Note that Tenielle sings the song with sincerity and tenderness toward the twirling muskrats. Touching, really. If you can watch all of that clip, you have a stronger stomach than I do.

Climb the orange stairs for $25,000. Or some prunes.

My dad loved game shows. I'm not sure his brain ever stopped thinking and processing. Though my brain obviously didn't think at the same level as his, I loved watching game shows with Dad, especially the often-forgotten "Treasure Hunt" (technically "The New Treasure Hunt.")

I so wanted to walk up the orange stairs and grab a big brightly wrapped box to see whether I would get "clunked" (given a crappy prize) or else win $25,000, a trip to Hawaii, or even something weird and cool. I liked to think I had some sort of kid instinct that would lead me to a winning box, which I'd cleverly choose because it was the prettiest or the purplest or the smallest.

After a bit of "Let's Make A Deal" type stuff, the host, Geoff Edwards, would take forever to finally reveal what the contestant had won. Jeff offered tease after tease, fake after fake, leaving us all in a state of desperate wanting.

Watch this episode, filled with suspense, drama, and prunes.

Scooby Doo rulz

Scooby Doo rules the Cartoon Universe. And you know, I'm not sure why Scooby Doo rules. He just does, and everybody thinks so. 

Saturday mornings were all about Scooby Doo and Cocoa Puffs and my footed PJs. We only had one TV in the house, and I can imagine my parents didn't like Saturday mornings much, what with us sugar-hyped kids up at 6 am and dorky cartoons on the TV.

The picture above is of one of my Favorite Things: the Scooby Doo ceramic thingy my mom made (made!) in ceramics class in 1975. (Ceramics were big in the 70s, but that's a whole 'nother post.)

Scooby Doo debuted in 1969 and still airs in syndication. For more details on Scooby's evolution, visit Scoobyaddicts.com.  Or just listen to the theme song.

The pie! That makes! Its own crust!

I bet you had a slice of Bisquick Impossible Pie in the 70s. I bet you liked it.

This isn't a food blog, but I'm a foodie. I'd like to share with you some of the good stuff from my childhood, which I bet a lot of you will remember.

Put down the Crisco-crusted, high-calorie quiche and try some Impossible Pie. It's easier and better for your waistline. Feel free to switch out the flavors and add-ins once you've learned the basic method. I've made this with broccoli, corn, red potatoes, and asparagus. There are even dessert versions available, though I haven't tried those.

Green Chile Cheese Impossible Pie

Preheat oven to 425. Spray 9- or 10-inch pie plate with cooking spray.

2 cans (4 oz. each) chopped green chiles
1 1/2 cups grated cheese (cheddar or pepperjack)
1 1/2 cups milk
4 eggs
1 cup Heart Smart Bisquick (tm)

Combine green chiles and cheese and spread on bottom of pie plate.

Beat remaining ingredients until smooth. Pour into pie plate.

Bake until knife inserted in center comes out clean (25-35 minutes).

Serves 6.

Dearly departed : Big Bob's Pipe Dream in Burien

Seattle readers will probably remember Big Bob’s Pipe Dream, but if you grew up in the 70s, you might have had a similar restaurant in your neighborhood, too. Eating at Big Bob's was a huge deal for us kids. I remember a few kid birthday parties there…maybe some Bluebird events as well.

Now Bison Creek Pizza in Burien, Big Bob’s was cavernously huge, with several levels of seating. And the organ itself just seemed to surround you with its many pieces and huge sound. And didn’t it literally surround you? Does anyone else remember there being parts of the organ installed on the side walls as well? I remember looking over my shoulder and seeing musical instruments move. This could have been a dream, though. I was high on pizza and root beer at the time.

I don’t think there are many Wurlitzer organs left, except for those in churches. I imagine Chuck E. Cheese has replaced Pizza & Pipes in the pizza-and-entertainment-for-kids category. Pity, that.

The Puget Sound Theater Organ Society has a great piece on this 70s Seattle/Burien institution, including pictures and an old newspaper ad. The organ at Big Bob’s was a 1918 Wurlitzer originally located at Seattle’s Coliseum Theater at 5th and Pike.

Dearly departed and dehydrated: Mug-O-Lunch

Who knew you could have sooo much fun and tastiness in a mug?

Mug-O-Lunch tasted kind of like the Kraft Easy Mac and operated on the same principal: add boiling water to salty powder and macaroni that would never get fully tender, wait a few minutes, and your lunch is in the mug. Sounds kind of silly now that we live in the age of prepared food and instant everything, but this felt inventive and exciting at the time.

Here's a newspaper ad that promises three flavors: Macaroni and Cheese, Spaghetti, and Beef Noodle. I seem to remember a Chicken Noodle one available at some point as well.

My brother and I had to talk Mom into buying these; she would say they were too expensive and that she'd be happy to make us a sandwich. She was a stay-at-home mom, and she probably would have made us anything we wanted from scratch. But of course, we wanted the dehydrated salty crap in a mug.

Little Brown-Haired Girl in utero

It's my parents' anniversary today. I love this picture of them. My mom is pregnant with me (Christmas 1968.)

Dad is holding our dog, Penny. More about Penny in another post. Meanwhile, how cute are my parents here? They used to call my mom "Gidget", for her personality as much as her appearance. My dad reminds me of a cross between Jim Morrison and Buddy Holly.

Love to you both, Mom and Dad.

Slippery summer shenanigans

I'm not sure you could have too much more fun during a Seattle summer than you could while playing on a Slip 'N Slide.  A very thin yellow plastic sheet with tiny sprays of water keeping it really too slippery than was wise combined with the hill in our front yard made for an excellent summer afternoon.

I used to slide tummy-first, like the first kid in this old 70s ad. I would often wake up the next morning with my tummy so sore that I could hardly move.

Check out how many cool new versions there are of the Slip 'N Slide today! In my day, we only had ONE kind of Slip 'N Slide. Sheesh.

In case you're thinking about adding dish soap or something to make it even slippery-er, don't. Trust me on that.

Dearly departed deliciousness: Seven-Up bars

A candy bar that was actually seven candy bars in one is even better than a doll that's two dolls in one, or a mint that's two mints in one! Man, do I miss the Seven-Up candy bars.

Seven-Up bars had seven separate flavor sensations. According to Pearson's Candy Company, the flavors changed based on consumer taste. When it was discontinued in 1979, a Seven-Up bar had butterscotch caramel, cherry cream, fudge, orange jelly, nougat, coconut, and butter cream. You just couldn't find any candybar that compared to one of these--not even the Uno Bar, my other favorite.

Pearson's won't make this for us again, no matter how much we beg. They no longer have the proper equipment to do so, and they don't own the rights to the name. History and candy freaks should check out Pearson's website, which includes pictures of old Seven-Up wrappers.

And if you close your eyes, you can pretend the Sky Bar is a Seven-Up bar...okay, half a Seven-Up bar. But with different flavors. Sigh.

For Dad's and Jim's birthdays

Note the faux wood paneling in the background. Yes, it covered our family room.

My dad and my little brother both had birthdays in the last couple of weeks, so this picture seemed appropriate. I'm about age 7 here and my brother is probably about 2. My hair was so light brown as to be almost blonde.

Dinner at Grams' house

Plasticized melamine plates are kind of tacky today. But they were kind of cool in the 70s.

These are the plates my grandmother used every day...

Details for you antique freaks: these were Melmac Beverly by Prolon. We got rid of most of the set when my grandmother passed away in 1997. I kept this plate, and looking at it makes me wish we'd kept the whole set, which included small red bowls and mugs. I couldn't find details on this particular pattern, which I think probably goes back to the 50s.

Making Sunday mornings better: "Vision On"

Ameliorating the exquisite boredom of Sunday morning TV (which featured such snoozers as “The Eucharist” and “Gardening with Ed Hume”) was the surreal kid’s show, “Vision On.” Originally a BBC show geared to deaf children in the U.K., “Vision On” aired in Seattle on KOMO TV with added footage from KOMO. I couldn’t find any clips from KOMO’s version, so please post or message me if you can find any. Meanwhile, enjoy the grainy Brit TV clips and other details on the this great "Vision On" tribute site.

My kidbrain remembered the closing music, “Java” by Al Hirt, as the themesong. Now it’s in my head again.

Not dear, but departed: Pepsi Light

I'm a hopeless Diet Coke addict, but remembering the taste of Pepsi Light makes me gag.

Remember how it had the lemony taste?  Who thought lemon was a good idea?

I believe this stuff was made with saccharin. I think Tab (yes, they still make Tab!) is the only soda I can think of that still uses saccharin, though now it seems to be a saccharin-aspartame blend.

Pepsi Light is available in a few other countries, but it no longer has the lemon or the saccharin and is basically Diet Pepsi with a different name.

Click below for an old Pepsi Light ad with Lauren Hutton, of all people. You'll remember the sky blue can.

Lauren Huton shills Pepsi Light

Pacific coast vacation, 70s style

I've been on vacation this week, and I've been thinking about the first vacation  I remember.

About 1976, we piled into the car, probably my mother's red 1967 Mustang and headed out to Copalis, Washington. That's basically the middle of nowhere on the Washington coast. If you haven't been to the Washington coast, I must tell you that it can get incredibly gloomy and stormy out there--which, sorry to say, sometimes fits my moods. Copalis is a great place to watch the Pacific storms come through in, say, early November.

Meanwhile, back on that long ago trip, my grandparents followed us in their car and they stayed in the room next door to my parents and me. You know those very-low-rent beachy motels that are inevitably named something like "The Lamplighter" or "The Windjammer" or "The Sandpiper?" Well, this motel was one of those. Amazingly, 35+ years later, it's still there. And they even have a website. Click below.

http://lindaslowtidemotel.com/photos.html

I think that's the same wood paneling that was there when I was little. I remember thinking it was cool that the refrigerator was in the bathroom. Did I mention this was not the Westin?

To commemorate the trip, my parents bought my brother and I each a stuffed Dachshund; one said WASHINGTON on its side, and the other said OREGON. I still have those dogs and will try to get a picture of them for you.

Grape Tang and Epic Barfs

Is it weird to remember your most epic barfs? Because I do.

My most epic barf was Grape Tang, delivered spectacularly onto the beige carpet in our family room. Yes, it came back up just as purple as it went down--only now with added chunks! The stain remained there for years, despite multiple carpet cleanings. I should have asked mom for that section of carpet when she finally replaced it (the carpet, not the barf) in the late 90s.

Get your Grape Tang!

I was going to key this under discontinued food, but apprently it's still available (though not widely so and possibly not in the U.S.) Click the link above to purchase via Amazon. It doesn't come in the cool glass jar any more, unfortunately.

The doll that grows breasts. Really.

My Growing Up Skipper doll grows breasts.  Really.

If you rotate her left arm all the way around, tiny breasts pop out and her torso lengthens about a half inch. Rotate her arm the other way, and her breasts disappear and her body gets smaller again. At the time I got her, I remember being excited about her because she was "two dolls in one!"  I don't remember any enlightenment about the wonders of growing up or becoming a woman, though I imagine that was the intent.

Apparently, this version of Skipper was somewhat controversial at the time. Can you imagine the howling that would ensue if this were sold today, though? I imagine conservatives and the helicopter parents would be horrified.

Just for the record, she's the size of a Barbie and her breasts don't get any bigger than pencil erasers. In other words, she's not life-size. Sorry to disappoint.

Badly named, mighty tasty, and gone

Considering these weren't clusters at all, I don't know why Nature Valley called them Granola Clusters.  They were marketed as "nature's answer to candy"--as though they had magically less sugar or were somehow healthier than candy. I doubt it. But granola anything was considered healthy in the 70s, no matter how much sugar or fat it had.

These were tubes that were filled with yumminess and rolled in something light and crunchy. Really delicious. Really discontinued.

This might be 1980s vintage, but close enough. Click below for a commercial.

Granola Clusters Commercial

In honor of Marie Osmond, my childhood idol

I was incredibly sad to hear Marie Osmond's son, Michael Blosil, passed away this past weekend.  My thoughts and love go out to Marie and her family.

Marie Osmond was my childhood idol. She had brown hair and brown eyes, like me. I coveted her long red nails, her bright lipstick, her beautiful dresses. The Donny and Marie Show was wholesome and exceedingly cute in the way only variety shows could be. Seeing how much I loved the show, my parents bought me their album (yes, album) Featuring Songs From Their TV Show. I played it over and over on my orange Fisher Price record player.

It's a cliche to say it, but it really was a simpler time, and I was certainly a simpler being. I still love that music, heaven help me. It brings me peace and comfort, just like it did when I was a little girl.

Please click below for my favorite Donny and Marie song, "The Umbrella Song."

May she find comfort from the rain.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rRptvt5k6M4

Dancing with Dionne Warwick on Solid Gold

OK, so Solid Gold is kinda more about the early 80s than the 70s. You 70s kids remember it anyway. I know you do, because it was one of the first places we saw popular music--before CDs, before iTunes, even before MTV. The dancers seemed to have just two moves: Flip My Long Hair Dramatically and Swoon Like A Piece of Wet Spaghetti. Click below for an example.

Solid Gold, Season 1

Is it me or did their dancing get dorkier as the music got faster?

Dearly departed deliciousness: Jell-o Spoon Candy

One of life’s great tragedies is that there are foods (and food-like products) that we dearly loved that we will never, ever eat again. I am mildly obsessed with these discontinued foods, especially ones from my childhood.


I offer one such example from the 70s: Jell-o’s Spoon Candy. Not merely pudding, this just-add-milk dessert had this amazing chocolate topping that was extremely firm, almost hardening to the consistency of truffle filling and probably made of the terrible hydrogenated oils that we aren’t supposed to eat any more. And as such, it’s probably impossible to recreate the exact taste at home.

Does anyone remember any other flavors? I remember only the vanilla with the chocolate topping.

I have a Land of the Lost board game

Lots of websites talk about Land of the Lost, the unusually smart kids' TV series of the 70s. (NOT referring here to the unrelated, embarrassing, not-even-approximation-of-a-movie starring Will "The Last Funny Thing I Did Was the Cowbell Thing" Ferrell.) So I won't bury you in words here about how great the show was, but I will offer one fascinating factoid: the producers used college basketball players to play the Sleestak, including the great Bill Laimbeer. Bonus factoid: they had only three Sleestak suits, so they had to use creative filming and editing techniques to make the Sleestak scenes work. Maybe they spent all their budget on the pylons and the crystals instead.

My brother found this board game on eBay. He knew I would love it and I do. I'm not sure what the point of the game is, but the game itself is pretty rare and I'm lucky to have it. Pics below.

Scary thing for kids #2,465: Baby Secret

I was definitely a girly-girl, and I had plenty of dolls. If you’re one of those people who think dolls are evil, skip this post. I mean it. Save yourself the nightmares.

Here is my Baby Secret doll, very yellowed by age. When you pull her string, she says several different things to you, including, "I know a secret--do you?" and "Don't talk so loud."

Here is the video clip of the commercial for Baby Secret. It says 1966, so I’m not sure why I grew up with this doll, having been born in 1969. But I remember cuddling with her at night, back when the whisper sounded sweet and comforting. Really.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zY1xtnnMr2c&feature=player_embedded

Yeah, her lips move too. And after 40 years in my parents' garage, her voice sounds like those voices of “ghosts” you hear on the Travel Channel’s “Ghost Adventurers.” Did I mention she's creepy as hell?

Happy Valentine's Day

I found this card and stuffed dog that my dad gave me, probably in the very early 70s. The card is well over a foot high. I'm not sure if you can tell by the picture, but the hat and bow on the little girl are fuzzy velvet.

Valentine's Day was huge in my family--my parents always gave us toys, candy, and cards.  We still exchange valentines and I still love Valentine's Day.

Daddy dear, we're weird

How psychadelic was Sesame Street? Really, really psychadelic. And smart. Watch some of the old Sesame Street stuff today and it makes Barney and Creatures of His Ilk look tame. And lame.

I particularly like this clip. I was one of those annoying "why, daddy?" children. When my dad would tuck me into bed, I would have a dozen questions like the questions in the clip. Like how do they make pill bottles and why doesn't it rain when the sun is shining and why does everyone hate President Carter . . .click below for Sesame Street's version of these immortal questions.

Daddy Dear, Sesame Street

In Search Of Pee-Your-Pajamas Terror

Leonard Nimoy's In Search Of: one of the coolest TV shows of the 70s--and the most terrifying. One episode asked the question, "Can you be scared to death?" I had nightmares for weeks after that episode. It seemed plausible to me--maybe even likely, that I could be scared. To. Death. And maybe the Sasquatch would eat me or Dracula in his castle would bite me or imprison me in the lost city of Atlantis or...or...

Watching the clips on youtube even today creeps me out. I don’t know what it is about this show that’s so scary. Nimoy’s voice? The writing? The production values? Or am I just remembering it with a kid's suggestibility? Click on the link below for the intro...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zK4PGCQQ4Oc