It’s Cal Worthington and his dog Spot! (Cal comes out with an elephant) If you wanna buy a car, go see Cal… “If you’re not satisfied, I’ll eat a bug.” And of course, you can find Cal on Youtube!
Also Carpeteria ads, because they had the giant genie on top and the song.
The other day I heard the Emergency Broadcast System go off on the radio, and I thought it was a test. “Huh,” I thought, “I haven’t seen one of those tests in years.” It wasn’t a test–it was an Amber Alert. It took me a while to realize.
I remember when the first two digits in phone numbers were letters, not numbers. I also remember that my first phone number started with WAlnut4 (924).
I also have this very early memory of standing up on the back seat of my father’s Ford Galaxy and my head not touching the roof, I must have been about 3 years old. It’s just this memory fragment, but I think it is my earliest memory.
Are you SERIOUS? I had no idea! Love those Zucker brothers.
BellRung, they named the farts based on the sound. I have no means to explain how it worked. If you are curious enough, you could look online. My son saved something to my desktop that was similar (thank you very much, honey).
I must have been about five or six, and my older sister (about 12 or 13yrs old) told me off for some misbehaviour and she added the rider that I was behaving like a juvenile.
And I was sure that the word juvenile was some sort of derogatory put-down, so I stamped my foot and threw a tantrum just to assure her that I wasn’t one of those.
I remember our old farmhouse. The upstairs was heated by vents from downstairs that allowed the hot air to rise to the second floor. Because I was the youngest child, I’d have to go to bed earlier than anyone else. I remember lying on the floor next to the register listening to the family talk and have fun downstairs. It always seemed like they had a lot more fun after I was sent to bed.
I don’t remember learning to read, but I remember my first day in Kindergarten and the teacher giving us a mimeographed butterfly to color. I remember going up to her and telling her she didn’t tell us right - the paper said we were supposed to color the 1 green, the two yellow, etc. It was a color by number, but she’d just given it to us to make us sit down and shut up. She’s wasn’t thrilled that I was telling her how to teach.
I lived near Lake Huron as a small child. I remember being afraid of searchilights, because it meant a boat might be lost on the water. I still don’t like them.
I remember in July 1989 when my family and I ate at a Friendly’s restaurant in Gettysburg, PA, and getting a very rude waitress named Susan. When I placed my order, she said in a really snotty voice, “I can’t hear!”, and she was surly in other ways also. I still wonder what happened to Susan–how soon she got fired, or alternatively, whether she still works there due to her inability to get anybody else to hire her for a better job.
What? you don’t have fireflies? I have thousands of them, every night. They’ve been out for about a month now. Our phone number was in the FLanders exchange.
I remember when Dad brought home his new 1960 Plymouth Belvedere 4-door, all black and shiny with huge fins and a front grill that was this huge shiny sharkmouth-looking thing and chrome everywhere and the speedometer was in a horizontal spaceship-shaped pod on top of the dashboard and a freaking pushbutton transmission! We’d had a stodgy old grey on grey round 1950 Plymouth sedan, then all of a sudden, Dad shows up in some kind of Batmobile. He backed that thing into the driveway, too, so we’d see the giant, chrome-encrusted fins first as we approached it.
I remember when I shifted from day care to Kindergarten (about 3 1/2 years old, here) I was given a teddybear as a leaving present.
I called him Vinnie, because Winnie (the Pooh) would be copying from a book - and that was BAD.
My earliest memory is at the day care, where I found a partially squashed catepillar and realised that it was in pain. I didn’t know what to do.
The earliest memory that I inexplicably remember was when I was three. I was riding around on the backyard cement in a tricycle with a little trailer behind it with my brother. There was this greeb, cylindrical fuzzy thing on the ground. I remember yelling “Ew! Poop!” because in my mind it was the closest association I could make. I had assumed that it came from one of the neighborhood cats. Then my mom pointed out that it was a catapillar, I felt so bad. But the thing seemed so huge! When I looked at it closer I was overcome by guilt for having accidently run over such a pretty and helpless thing.
I remember, when my parents drove us home at night from whatever event, crawling up on the back window shelf-thingie to sleep. The best. Last place was sleeping on the floor over the drive shaft hump.
But the thing seemed so huge! When I looked at it closer I was overcome by guilt for having accidently run over such a pretty and helpless thing.