Featured Video: Nesbitts Orange Soda Pop

Remember Nesbitts Soda Pop? We almost never got soda when I was a kid, and when we did, we never wanted cola. We wanted Nesbitts, but usually got Shasta. At the time I was a kid, Nesbitts was known for it's orange soda, but also had strawberry which kicked ass, but I rarely saw it.

Thanksgiving Thought

Missing those who aren't with us, happy for those who are, and thankful for all.

The Craigs List Roadrunner

Remember when somone on your street had one of these, or something just as spectacular?

From the ad:
Under the hood we put a crate 360 with a 36 month or 36000 mile warranty Edelbrock 600 carb Summit mid rise manifold Flotech headers Header wrap 3 ROW aluminum radiator Zirgo 3600 CFM electric fan 904

Thar she blows!

Featured Video: WKRP Thanksgiving Episode

From October 30, 1978. One of the funniest sitcom episodes ever. Remember this?

Whatever Happened To...?

Garage bands?

Every neighborhood had a garage band or two. Every decent party had a band playing. Every prom, homecoming, and dance of any sort had a band playing. Today? A few bands show up on indie labels, but how did they get there? I sure haven't seen a garage band in years.

Sesame Street's 40th Anniversary

In celebration of Sesame Street's 40th anniversary, Google developed some new logos:

"Relics" of 1979! - The Early Show - CBS News

"Relics" of 1979! - The Early Show - CBS News.

This is a cool series that recently featured the year 1979. They talk about Daisy Duke jeans, the General Lee remote car, Sergio Valente jeans, and of course, the disco ball. Check it out.

Arena Show? No Thanks.

There's nothing more opinionated than a music critic. Well, maybe a beer critic, but that's stretching things. I'm a huge music fan, and a critic, and I'm very opinionated. Here's a favorite topic.

I do not understand the appeal of large arena shows. I do not understand people who shell out several hundred dollars a ticket to see a band who (with a few exceptions), couldn't hold their own on a stage against area talent in a local bar open-mic night. Very few seats in an arena are close enough to actually see any of the musicians without watching the jumbo-trons next to the stage. Hell, if I wanted that, I'd buy the DVD. Or for the amount spent on tickets, several box sets. Can you see who's actually playing lead without looking at the jumbo-tron? Can you see the expressions, the interplay between the musicians? No? WTF is the attraction? It goes back to when concerts were a social gathering. When you could spend less than ten bucks to see the top bands. When you would hang out on the floor, see all your friends, and share a joint with everyone. Today you can spend $250 a ticket, $12 a beer, and $40 (or more) for a t-shirt. Hell, take away their High-Life. And be careful not to step on the person's $600 loafers who's sitting next to you when you get up out of your padded seat to jam with your bimbo date with the boob-job. Don't forget to boo when they don't play your favorite song exactly like they played it on the radio!

The quality of entertainment playing small clubs and festivals is better today then it's been since the early days of rock or jazz. Within the last couple years I have seen performances standing or sitting close enough to touch some of the best musicians the world has to offer today. I have chatted, in a conversational tone, with world-class musicians on stage in small clubs. I have talked to many of these performers in the audience before or after shows. I live in a smaller community (relatively speaking) yet can find such entertainment almost any night.

Stop going to shows just to say you did. Expand your musical horizons and explore artists you may not have heard. It's a much more rewarding experience.

Cigarette Machines

My kids don't believe me. I tell them when I was a kid, you could go anywhere and buy cigarettes from a machine. When I was just starting to fool around with cigarettes in the early seventies, you could buy them out of a machine for about 50 cents a pack. We had a Dairy Queen close to our junior high school and they had a machine, as every place did. When the owner wasn't looking we'd buy them from the machine, always Marlboro box. If he caught us, he'd buy them back, yell a lot, then kick us out.

I still remember those cigarettes, the smell and feel of a new pack, and the swimming head and nausea that went along with them. But I stuck it out, and became hopelessly hooked. Today, after having quit 17 years ago, I still miss them.

The M-80

One of my best friends in high school drove a little Datsun. Back then, there were not that many Japanese cars. You'd see some German Opels, and a few British MGs and Triumphs, but very few Japanese cars. For small cars, Vegas and Pintos as far as the eye could see.

One night we were cruising in my buddie's Datsun and he had scored some M-80 firecrackers. Firecracker is misleading, these things were close to dynamite strength. You'd put one in a mailbox, and it would shred the box. And that's exactly what we were doing - putting them in mailboxes. I'm sure our experience was enhanced in some manner, they usually were. Schlitz, Bud, PBR - it could have been any of them. Or it could have been something different...

We were down to our last M-80. We had driven into a field, wondering what we could do for maximum effect. Finally, my buddy said screw it, let's just get rid of it before we get busted. He rolled his window halfway down, lit the M-80 and through it hard at the window. It hit the edge of the window, and bounced back into his lap.

SHIIIIIIIITTTTTTTT! He yells and bails out of the car brushing off his crotch. I'm still clueless as to what's happening and he's running full blast away from the car. I look down and see the M-80 burning fast, the fuse almost completely burned. I bailed too. I get a few steps away and...

WHOOOOOOOMP! We look, and smoke is rolling out of the car. There was so much smoke we thought the car was toast. Literally. The smoke cleared after a few seconds, and we crept back. My buddy gingerly reached in for the overhead light, and we took a look. A burned spot on the carpet. That was it! We got in, still shaking a little, and drove away. We didn't screw with M-80s again after that. When we wanted to take out mailboxes, we did it the old fashioned way - with a baseball bat.

The Neighborhood Drive In

What would a seventies blog be without a drive-in movie post?

We had one in our neighborhood, about 8 blocks from home. When we were kids, if we were lucky enough to get out after dark and able to stay out a while, we would walk down there. We had to cross a highway to get there, and if our parents knew we'd get in trouble. But there was a golf course directly behind the theater, and we'd pull a bench from the course up to the back fence, and watch the show.

I had a paper route when I was a teenager, and I'd deliver papers from my Schwinn Orange Crate, and later, from my 10 speed Schwinn Continental. If I got done early, I'd pedal down to the drive-in.

There was a couple of big, mean, brothers my age that cleaned up the drive-in parking lot the morning after shows. You had to get there early to beat them to the lot. But if you did... There were always cans of un-opened beer, partially full bottles of Boones Farm, and all kinds of assorted goodies. It was a teenagers paradise. I'd make a quick swing through, throw the best stuff in my paper sack, and pedal home before the clean-up crew got there. I'd ditch the stash somewhere on the banks of the creek that wound through our neighboorhood park. We'd come back later and pretend we actually liked the stuff.

Later, when we were actually driving, we hit that drive-in with buddies and dates. I saw "Star Wars" for the first time there. Yet another memorable night was spent with a few friends, beer, and other leafy "illicit substances". We watched "Marathon Man". The sound of that dentist's drill was absolutely horrific.

All in all, it was a spot of significant memories for this Product Of The Seventies.

Old Mill Hill

Building on my last post about Old Mill Hill.

We would scrounge behind service stations (remember those?) for old tires. Every sorry excuse for a service station had a mountain of old tires behind the station. Depending on who was driving, what vehicle they had, and how many people were in the vehicle, we took as many tires as we had room for. We would drive up to the top of Old Mill Hill and wait for cars to come along. When they got about 200 yards away, we'd start the tire rolling. It took great timing, skill, and luck, but we did manage to nail a couple of cars. Funny, looking back we never considered it vandalism or criminal, it was just a way of having fun.

Then once the tires were gone, we had more room in the vehicle. If Jud was along, he had some big ones. He'd go to the back door of the Holiday Inn, and steal an empty beer keg. Then he'd take it back to a liquor store for the keg deposit. We weren't often lacking for beer money...

My 72 Bug

All through school I drove a 72 bug. Not the one pictured here, but pretty darn close. While I hated that car, it was memorable.

We had a hill in our part of town called "Old Mill Hill". There was a Holiday Inn hotel at the top of the hill. You could drive the road around the hill, or you could gto across country, and climb the greater than 45 degree slope up the side of the hill. Guess what we liked to do in the VW? I'd get started up the hill, and we were pointing so far up you'd think you were going to flip over backwards. The people in the back seat were always terrified. It was a great time. More on Old Mill Hill in future posts. A lot of stories around that.

One time, we were off-roading in another field close to a highway. We had 3 or 4 of us in my VW, along with beer, of course, and we cruised across the wooded field to a big lighted billboard next to the highway. Crazy man Eugene (Geno), climbed that billboard, and stood on the lighted platform in front of the sign. He was mooning all the cars driving by, and they were honking, of course. We finally got him down, and drove back towards the road. As we get close to the road, we saw a vehicle trailing us, but a quarter mile off. We looked hard, and thought we say lights on the top. We floored it, hit the road, made a couple of quick turns, and were home free. A friend in a nearby house saw the whole thing, and confirmed that it was a police car. Yet another escape by the skin of our teeth.

I could tell stories about the VW forever, and probably will. When I got into college, they used to kid me about having 7 back seats in that car. But that's another topic...

My Name Is Earl

I caught this show for the first time tonight. What a great show! He made a list of the 200 + things he's done wrong in his life, and he's out to correct every one of them. He believes in karma, and thinks he has to make amends for everything.

It made me think about all the things I did wrong.

Ome time, I talked the majority of the low brass section of the high school pep-band into chipping in for several cases of beer before a basketball game road trip. So we're slamming beers just before getting on the bus. People are filling their instrument cases and pockets with cans of beer. Just as I was getting on the bus, they said it was full, and asked for volunteers to drive. I ended up riding with a couple of senior tuba players, and we drank heavily on the way. By the time we got there, I was trashed. So was the entire trombone section. The problem was, they got caught. Every person I talked into this scheme was kicked out of school for a few days, and kicked out of band for the remainder of the year. Except me. I didn't ride the bus, there was no physical evidence I participated, and all they knew was that I was stumbling around the bleachers.

Another time...

Well, this could go on forever. I do know I'm not going to miss this show, it's GREAT stuff!

Cornhusker Heartbreak

Growing up in Nebraska, I became a big Cornhusker football fan. To a person in Nebraska, Cornhusker football is all there is. And what a time for college football it was. It started with National Championships in 1970 and 1971. Heisman winner Johnny "The Jet" Rogers, Jerry Tagge, Jeff Kinney, Vince Ferragamo, Steve Runty, Dave Humm, and COUNTLESS other quality people. Coached first by old school coach Bob Devaney, then by Dr. Tom Osborne. Osborne set the mold for the Huskers for the next several decades. No matter what critics might say, Dr. Tom ALWAYS had the best interests of his kids at heart. He had many successes, and a handful of failures such as Scott Baldwin and Lawrence Phillips. He and his staff ALWAYS sounded like true professionals, always kept their composure, and always made me proud to say I was from Nebraska.

That is why the events of the last several years are so hard to take. Athletic Director Steve Pederson has gutted the program in favor of starting over. He has brought in a former pro coach, and a complete stable of new assistants. No longer do we brag about our in-state walk ons. No longer do we brag about our graduation rates, or student athletes, or the number of Nebraskans on the team. In general, the pride is gone. We have traded our soul for the chance to win with a different type of game.

Today the Huskers lost a close heartbreaker to Texas Tech. They showed some very good things, but made some critical mistakes also. But you know what? I really don't care in the least.

Steve Pederson, for making me and other life-time Cornhusker fans feel this way, may you rot in hell.