It’s Howdy Doody Time

I am frequently accused of holding onto things way too long. For the record, in my humble opinion, I’m not a pack rat and I’m certainly not a hoarder, but I do have a sentimental spot, worse so than most possibly. Lessons learned have landed me where I am. There is a rhyme to my reason. Nostalgia isn’t necessarily limited to one’s memory. The past can accompany us throughout the present and into the future. My direct blood line is no more. My mama, daddy and grandparents have passed on. I am an only child as was my mama. Losing the last of my immediate bloodline (mama, daddy and granny) in an eleven month span in 2004-2005 further pushed me to where I am today. Holding onto items, pieces of my past, is important to me and I don’t give them up easily. Let’s dive head first into to my alleged addiction, shall we.

My Granny Bowie collected salt and pepper shakers. Yes I have that collection, boxed up, not displayed, some quite unique, but that’s in the eye of the beholder. I inherited them. I have my Papa Bowie’s daddy’s tool chest with an assortment of my great grandfather’s tools inside. I never knew Papa’s daddy but I can tell by the assortment of tools that he was quite the carpenter. I have a mahogany bedroom suit, mama and granny having identical ones, and I kept the best between them, bed, bedside tables, chest and a dressing table. I slept on this bed most of my childhood life. At the foot of the bed is a huge metal and leather traveling chest belonging to them. I still have most of granny’s handmade quilts. The huge pink glass lamp on the dresser came from my mama and daddy’s living room. It’s older than me and I remember it forever being in our living room. I have granny’s original hoe, a papa custom made garden hoe with longer handle for her. I have papa’s hand crafted iron fire poker. Many a chunk of coal and kindling has been poked with it.

The original hand grinder used to make that traditional hash, yep, I still have it; and the special table papa made specifically to clamp in on with surface area to set the meat waiting to be hand ground into mush. I have an assortment of other do-dads, what-knots, trinkets, gadgets, dishes, cooking utensils from my past and theirs; much of it boxed up and in the attic. Someday, I might sell it, maybe after I retire and can muster up the courage to turn it loose. If you were to ask my wife, she would say it all needs to go. Do me a favor, don’t ask her.

Some items go beyond my immediate bloodline. Aunt Shug, papa’s only sister was quite artistic. She painted pictures, dishes and other various items. I have many of her works of art. Was she famous? Nope, but she was the family resident artist. I can’t leave out daddy. He had this large Tupperware container filled with a life time’s assortment of screws, bolts, nuts, pins, brackets, odds and ins, left over this and that, never knowing when you might need one of what was in that magical container. I cannot count the times I’ve deep dived, looking for that special something I needed, and more times than not I found it or something close enough to do the job. 

Television shows like American Pickers, Toy Hunter and the Antique Road Show have struck a vein so to speak. Nostalgic possessions can be treasure troves in the eyes of seekers, appreciative of their value and associated history. How does the Sinatra song go…regrets, I’ve had a few. In the end I did it my way, too sadly to say. How I have let them slip through my fingers let me count the ways. Toys, I’m talking toys with defining moments, those one of a kind, wish I still had them, collectables. Howdy Doody, I grew up watching the Howdy Doody Show. I’ve fallen backwards into time and am reliving it as if yesterday. A distinctive feature was the Peanut Gallery, on-stage bleachers seating about 40 kids. Each show began with Buffalo Bob's asking, "Say kids, what time is it?" and the kids' yelling in unison, "Howdy Doody Time!" Then the kids all sang the show's theme song set to the tune of Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay.

It’s Howdy Doody time

It’s Howdy Doody time

Bob Smith and Howdy too

Say “Howdy do” to you

Let’s give a rousing cheer

’Cause Howdy Doody’s here

It’s time to start the show

So kids, let’s go!

Sorry, I forgot; some of you have no clue who Howdy actually was, do you? He was a marionette ventriloquist doll, freckled face, dressed in a plaid shirt, denim jeans and cowboy boots. He appeared on a kid’s television show with host, Buffalo Bob. The red haired Howdy had 48 freckles, one for each state at the time. There were other characters, Clarabell the Clown, Princess Summerfallwinterspring, J. Cornelius Cobb, Sir Archibald the Explorer, The Featherman, and Chief Thunderthud, head of the Ooragnak tribe of Native Americans (kangaroo spelled backwards). Originally it was an hour show on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays at 5 pm, but the show eventually moved to Monday through Friday, 5:30–6:00. In June 1956, it began to be shown on Saturdays only, in a morning timeslot (10-10:30), continuing until its final broadcast on September 24, 1960.

The final broadcasted episode was September 24^th 1960 and was titled Clarabell's Big Surprise. It was an hour-long episode looking back at highlights of the show's past. During the show there was an ongoing mystery in the midst of it, supposedly Clarabell the Clown had a big surprise. The rest of the cast attempted to find out what the surprise was throughout the show. Mayor Phineas T. Bluster finally succeeded but promised to keep it a secret. Finally, in the closing moments, the surprise was disclosed through pantomime to Buffalo Bob and Howdy Doody.  Clarabell who had never spoke before and used horns and hand signs could actually talk. Buffalo Bob called him out and challenged him to prove it, because it would his last chance with the show ending. Clarabell faced the camera and the camera zoomed in for an extreme close-up. His lips quivered as the drum roll began and simply said softly, "Goodbye, kids." A tear could be seen in Clarabell's right eye as the picture faded to black. I probably cried too.

I do have a point after all this but I have to tell it my way and I do eventually get to it. At that snapshot in time, I had my very own Howdy Doody ventriloquist doll, a life sized duplicate of the original, down to every little detail. He was my best bed buddy. I don’t remember what happened to my Howdy. I probably outgrew it and it was either given away or tossed away. Looking back now, boy, I wish I still had that little ditty of a collector’s item. He’s long ago gone to Howdy heaven I suppose. Back in the day, we got stuff, we played with it, outgrew or broke it, and we moved on to the next greatest thing and didn’t give it much thought. Who would have figured just how valuable old toys might someday be. Unfortunately there are no childhood do-overs; only kick yourself in the butt regrets. I look back now and mentally recap the potential collector’s item toys I have allowed to slip through my fingers, not realizing that I should have ‘hoarded’ them instead.

For Christmas Santa once brought me a real handcrafted metal and plastic Roy Roger’s pistol and holster, boots and western hat. Included was the Roger Roger’s kid size authentic guitar. Roy was one of those singing cowboys of my time, like Gene Audrey. I have those rare photos of me seeing what Santa brought me, dressed out in my one piece pajama jump suit, footed and flapped. Yes, I have one with me holding my guitar. Santa even provided me with a Palomino colored rocking horse, reminiscent of Trigger, Roy’s horse. The accessories are long gone but guess what; but over fifty five years later, I still have that rocking horse. It is in excellent shape, no chips or cracks, slightly faded but with the original stand and springs, perfectly workable. It has been loaned to Santa for cousins and even used with foster children over the years. Sometimes I just get lucky.

Yaba-daba-do…yes, I once possessed all the characters from the Flintstones and the town of Bedrock. An original Flintstones play set was released in the early 1960s and it came complete with
the town of Bedrock including cars, critters and other iconic symbols of the television series. Poof, outgrew and gone too. Cereal boxes of my day came with incredible toys inside, each brand trying to outdo the other. I retrieved my Sky King figure from one box. Sky King was one of my favorite TV series. It was sort of a modern western story, a horse replaced with an airplane, the Songbird. King usually captured criminals and spies, and found lost hikers with the use of his airplane. King and his niece, Penny, lived on the Flying Crown Ranch, near the fictitious town of Grover, Arizona. I don’t have my Sky King toy either…dog gone it.

I can go on but it is painful. I swapped my entire 500 count comic book collection to Darrel Tolbert for a weigh bench set that I obviously hardly used. Luckily I didn’t collect baseball cards or I might have bartered them away too. I once owned vintage 1959 set of Mickey Mouse Ears from Disney Land but poof, long gone. I’m sure there were many potentially collectable toys that have gone down the same path.

So what have I learned? I did begin a baseball card collection in the 1980’s. I’m sure there is no small fortune in them, even forty some odd years later. I have a couple of dozen of the Teenage Ninja Turtle characters, all four turtles, April and all the bad guys and a few good guys, still in the original packages, vintage 1980’s. I don’t have Howdy but I do have a Pee Wee Herman ventriloquist doll, also vintage 1980’s. Shogun Red and Miss Daisy dolls are still in my possession, Muppet type characters from the now defunct Nashville Network and Buckmasters shows. I’m still hording 45’s, 33’s and even older style vinyl albums. Up until about five years ago I still had an 8 track player that worked and about a hundred 8 track tapes. Yep, I feel victim to one of those record club scams in the seventies. The player crashed and burned but I still have a handful of what I consider collectable 8 track tapes, if there is such a thing. Oh yeah I have plenty of old and original board and card games. I’ll save those for another story.

It’s Howdy Hoarder Time, yall.