Nineteen Somethin'

I saw Star Wars at least eight times
Had the Pacman pattern memorized
And I’ve seen the stuff they put inside Stretch Armstrong.

I was Roger Staubach in my back yard
Had a shoebox full of baseball cards
And a couple of Evel Knievel scars on my right arm.

From : “Nineteen Somethin” by Mark Wills

I’m a pretty sentimental guy. I’m not one of those pack rat types who never throws anything away because it has some sort of memory attached to it. I am more sentimental when it comes to remembering people and places from the past. I do not spend my time looking back as that is a good way to run into a telephone pole. However, sometimes something will trigger a memory of someone or something from my past. It seems that music and smells trigger my memories like nothing else. The feeling can be so strong that it makes me wonder if time travel, on some level, is really possible. I had such a moment just the other day when the song “Nineteen Somethin’” by Mark Wills came on the car radio. While this is not a song from my youth, the lyrics nail my early childhood as no song before ever has.

I was born in late 1966. As a result, my earliest memories come from the ‘70s. I, and my brothers, did see Star Wars at least eight times. I’m actually thinking it was more like twelve times. I, too, have seen the stuff they put inside Stretch Armstrong. During one memorable battle between Stretch and his evil nemesis Stretch Monster, the “stuff” came leaking out. It was a red gooey liquid that looked like melted strawberry jello. I can personally attest that it is not easy to get out of carpet. This proved to be a negative to my mother. However, it turned into a positive as this forensic evidence allowed for the prosecution and conviction of the much more durable Stretch Monster. He would never threaten society again.

Some of the most enduring memories I have from the ‘70s are of Evel Knievel and his many appearances on ABC’s Wide World of Sports. It is hard to get kids today to understand just how big Evel was back in the day. His motorcycle jumps seem tame compared to many of the X-Game type stunts performed today. However, nobody had seen anything like it in the ‘70s. You also have to remember that this was back before cable television. We were pretty much limited to the three main networks. There was a rumor of a public television station in our area but we couldn’t get it. Much of the programming on the networks left a lot to be desired (a lot like now). So, when Evel was scheduled to make a jump on a Saturday afternoon it would draw Superbowl like ratings. I’ve often wondered how many broken armed little boys showed up in emergency rooms across the country on the afternoons after an Evel Knievel jump.

As a result of Evel’s popularity, a line of toys was created. The toys were a huge success. The heart of the toy line was the Evel Knievel stunt cycle (see pic above). The set consisted of a Harley-Davidson motorcycle, an Evel Knievel action figure (remember boys have action figures not dolls), and a base. The way it worked was that the Evel action figure was placed on his motorcycle, which was then placed on the base. The base had a handle, which you turned. This engaged a gear on the base, which, in turn, turned a gear on the toy motorcycle. Once the spinning reached the proper speed the motorcycle would disengage and take off. Sometimes the bike required a bit of a push to get free from the base but the results were always spectacular. Though I was never able to get Evel to replicate the back flip I saw on the commercials, I jumped many a row of shoes. What made it even better was how the tires of the motorcycle were made of real rubber and left great skid marks on the light colored linoleum of our home. Again, mom did not see this as a positive. I have to give mom a lot of credit, however, as she put up with a lot of black marked floors and baseboards in the hall that were permanently scraped free of paint due to Evel’s less than graceful landings. Truly the Evel Knievel stunt cycle was one of the greatest toys of my childhood. I think it was about a year ago that Evel Knievel died. Part of my childhood went with him.

As I mentioned before, I was in my car when Mark Wills began singing “Nineteen Somethin’” the other day. My lovely wife of sixteen years noticed my far away look as the first verses played. She asked me what I was thinking about. I replied simply that I wasn’t thinking. I was remembering.

My best…