My beauty idol, that is. And my favorite Angel. And the star of that really great TV movie where Cheryl gets busted for drugs with her boyfriend, is put in prison, and becomes besties with a young Angela Bassett.
I can't approve of lovely Cheryl being subjected to the terror of a hideous clown to sell beer. Memo to the 1977 Powers That Be At Michelob: Clowns are never a good idea, especially when you have a beauty like Cheryl Ladd in your commercial.
From CBS' coverage of Game 1 of the 1983 Eastern Conference Finals: 1. Chevrolet Celebrity 2. HTH pool chlorinator 3. Honda motorcycles 4. Miller Lite (with many of their regulars from that era) 5. Sheraton hotels 6. Memorex video tapes 7. Kendall motor oil 8. CBS promo for Bronco Billy 9. Wagner power painter 10. Ford with Telly Savalas 11. American Heart Association PSA with Marques Johnson 12. Lava soap 13. Scope mouthwash 14. Kodak film 15. Promo for CBS' continuing coverage of the NBA 16. Miller Lite with Ben Davidson 17. Mazda Sundowner 18. Schick disposable razors 19. Promo for the Colonial National Invitational golf tournament 20. Spalding Top-Flite golf balls 21. Wausau insurance 22. Commodore 64 computers 23. Promo for 60 Minutes, followed by a CBS ID 24. Krylon Rust Magic 25. Playmate coolers 26. Edge shaving cream 27. Spot for the Olympics by Miller High Life 28. GMC trucks 29. Speed Stick deodorant 30. Suzuki Tempter motorcycles 31. See #14 32. Lowenbrau beer 33. Lectric Shave 34. Purolator oil filter
It's Saturday night, and it's Lobster Fest at Red Lobster, and this Happy Hungry Harmonic Convergence means that Mr. and Mrs. Linger are going out to get our eat on!
It seems like everyone is sick during these Ides of March.
I'm including myself in those ranks: Ken brought home a terrible cough over a week ago, and while he seems to be over the worst of it, it remains with me.
Yes, it seems that we all need some Teek with TC-44 around here:
"No narcotics." They say that like it's a good thing. And this is from the 60s, no less. I thought there was narcotic goodness in chewing gum back then.
Recorded during a Monday Night Football broadcast.
(The Chiefs beat the Cowboys, 34-31.)
Be sure to catch the very brief but gorgeous shot of a United Airlines DC-10. And there are ads for Schlitz (the official beer of A Touch of Tuesday Weld...did you know that? No? Well, it is.) and the Boeing 747 (oh, yes, in the 70s and even into the 80s, the 747 was flown domestically in the United States, especially on TWA. "Got on board a westbound 747").
There's also a promo for a brand-new ABC program called Good Morning, America, with host David Hartman.
The picture does not do it justice. It's creamy, yet firm; every bite has a bite to it. Loaded with delicious chocolate chips, yet not too sweet. Perfect with a cup of coffee or a flute of champagne (we ate slices both ways, this time!). Ken is from the East Coast and is quite picky about his cheesecake; he declares that Eli's is the best that he has had since he was a lad growing up in New Jersey! (Me, I just know a rollicking good dessert treat when I taste one!)
Thank heavens there was a girlfriend to help our singing star find the path to a lovelier complexion...with Palmolive!
"Look here, Marge...here's the score. Us girls down at Monsieur Henri's House Of French Coiffures have been cleansing our skin the Palmolive way...and you should, too!"
Personally, I'm a big believer in doing beauty the old-fashioned way (or what we would consider "old fashioned" today). I switched recently from fancy-schmancy facial wash to plain old Dr. Bronner's rose bar soap for facial scrubbery. My skin has never been cleaner nor clearer. And it's cheaper and organic!
I'm not sure which one is Margaret, but I love this picture: wood paneling; a dude with a mustacheand tinted glasses; a guy who looks like either a used car dealer or the lead singer for Sparks in the back; the wonderfully random Rose Acre Farms crate ("the good egg people"); the LPs and some sort of makeshift DJ booth; the elegant choice of decorations for this fête galante, including a "sweet sixteen" banner.
I'm sure the dining choices for this gala included several buckets of Kentucky Fried Chicken, several bags of Taco flavor Doritos, one of those sugary grocery store bakery cakes the size of Texas with pink rosettes in each corner and "Happy Birthday, Margaret!" written in loopy pink frosting script. And five cases of Schlitz.
Who was this motley crew of boys, I wonder? Well, I will venture a guess: the boy in the plaid shirt is Margaret's slightly older brother, and those knuckleheads are his friends. They've known Margaret since she was a little girl, and they love her like a sister. Honestly, they do. It's just that...little Margaret is growing up to be hot.
And you just know that these awful boys took over poor Margaret's party, most likely forcing the DJ to play nothing but Rush, Van Halen, and KISS records all night while they drank Schlitz and talked about Atari and Phoebe Cates' tits.
"Hey, man! Play Christine Sixteen again! KISS Army rules! Happy birthday, Margaret!"
The best-known version of this song, "Wild Horses," is by The Stones, of course.
However, the song was originally given to Gram Parsons by Keith Richards as a gift.
Gram...what can I say about him? He had the voice of an angel and the soul of a tortured poet. His life was a Tennessee Williams play. He loved his drink and his drugs and American music in its purest forms. His was a shattered soul, his voice about hopeful unreasonable love, and those hopes dashed on the ground.
Nothing makes me angrier faster than those who insist on saying that Jeff MacDonald "allegedly" murdered his family on that cold rainy winter night in February 1970.
I heard it most recently on an episode of Criminal Minds. Usually, that is a show that gets it mostly right when it comes to crimes and killers. This was not one of those times.
And for those who scream that Fatal Vision was a smear job, let me just say this: it is the third finest true crime book ever written, with In Cold Blood being number one, and Helter Skelter being number two.
The NBC telefilm of Fatal Vision was an absolute triumph. Karl Malden and Eva Marie Saint do star turns as the parents of murdered Colette MacDonald, and the grandparents of young Kimmy and Kristy. However, the movie belongs to a very young Gary Cole, who plays MacDonald, and does so in such a way that you can never really look at the poor guy the same way again after you've seen it. (It's a shame, actually. I like Gary Cole very much and I think he's terrific in other roles.) However, he will always be Jeffrey R. MacDonald, murderer of his pregnant wife and two little girls, to me.
And this is what Jeff MacDonald did.
"It was a blow of tremendous force."
Notice the silence as MacDonald murders his family. I think this was a brilliant decision. Background music would have done a disservice to the horror unfolding onscreen.
