Boomers Said “Happy 200th Birthday, America!”

This year marks the 250th anniversary of the U.S. declaring independence in 1776. Boomers recall a thing or two about the last time the red, white and blue were plastered everywhere, with the Bicentennial celebrations in 1976. The oldest boomers were 30 at the time, while the youngest were 13, making it the quintessential American holiday celebration for a growing Boomer Generation.

The months leading up to July 4, 1976 were filled with patriotic fervor and anticipation of the main event that would officially mark the 200th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. Congress established a single American Revolution Bicentennial Commission in 1966 with the goal of coordinating national events in a single city — suggested as Philadelphia or Boston — under the name of Expo76. By 1973, it became clear that there was not going to be a consensus among the states as to the scope and choices of the suggested celebration. Instead, individual states created their own commissions. The Bicentennial was to be celebrated only one year after the end of the Vietnam war, and two years after Watergate. President Gerald Ford encouraged local celebrations that would highlight a “restoration of American values,” rebirth, nostalgia and a retelling of historical events in an effort to unite a country still divided.

The local approach turned out to be a welcome way for the country to celebrate, as it evoked the celebrations around the newly-minted country in 1776. John Adams wrote a letter to his wife, Abigail, on July 3, 1976, in which he expressed his desire for celebrations of that momentous occasion by saying, “It ought to be solemnized with Pomp and Parade, with Shews [shows], Games, Sports, Guns, Bells, Bonfires and Illuminations from one End of this Continent to the other from this Time forward forever more.”

Two hundred years later, the country was covered in red, white and blue. Bicentennial Fever infected young and old, and every aspect of daily life. In many areas, city fire hydrants and sign posts were decked out in red stripes, and white stars on blue backgrounds. Individuals painted their mailboxes with flag themes. Clothing for men, women and children reflected the same red, white and blue aesthetic, with stars and stripes aplenty.

The Super Bowl, played on January 18, 1976, served as the unofficial kick-off of a year of celebrations. Players wore an official American Bicentennial logo patch on their uniforms. Halftime entertainment was the wholesome singing and dancing group, “Up with People.” Dancers were dressed as historical American figures, which were portrayed in song in the program.

TV networks got into the patriotic mood in a big way, delivering entertaining and informative depictions of historical lore, legend and myth all through the year. Saturday morning cartoons were also affected. The theme was written into the Archies cartoon storyline, but the ones that most people will recall were from Schoolhouse Rock. Older boomers already had children of their own who watched the educational kids’ show. Most notably, two of the segments created with the Bicentennial theme have become classics in the annals of educational TV: I’m Just a Bill, and The Preamble. One discussed the legislative process, while the other set variations of the preamble of the U.S. Constitution to music.

Massive celebrations on the Fourth that took on a national mantel, like the fireworks display and entertainment show in Washington, DC that night, were televised by the ABC, NBC and CBS networks. During the day, the country was riveted to their TVs unlike any time since Neil Armstrong walked on the moon as tall ships sailed past the Statue of Liberty in New York City harbor. A nonprofit group called Operation Sail, Inc., put the international tribute together, with replicas of eighteenth century sailing vessels from 16 countries taking part. Additional smaller ships also joined the parade. Interestingly enough, the organization was established by President John Kennedy in 1961 with the proviso that the nonprofit’s events would be subject to approval by Congress. The goal of the organization was to promote cooperation and good will among nations by providing sailing training and celebrating maritime history. It was a spectacular display that captured America’s attention. Mister Boomer recalls watching the ships with his parents on their black & white TV before the family cookout, sailing one by one, into the New York harbor. Each ship flew a banner with the Bicentennial star logo. Months afterward, boomers and their younger siblings had posters of the tall ships in their bedrooms and dorms. Mister B remembers that his family subscribed to Life Magazine. As 1976 became 1977, the magazine’s annual The Year in Pictures was published; among the highlights featured were dramatic images of the tall ships.

Mister Boomer was out of college and working his first job at a small advertising agency at the time. He recalls that the company produced menus, book covers, flyers and ads of all types, and his art director complained that every client wanted red, white and blue. The art director proclaimed that after the Bicentennial, he “never wanted to see another red, white and blue project again!””

In Mister B’s area, there was a local parade of veterans and school bands, and a great fireworks display on a nearby river. The localization of the event made it feel like every person was invested in the celebration. That meant plenty of firecrackers in Mister B’s neighborhood, but they were illegal in his state. The next state was only about 35 miles away down the main highway, and the first fireworks stand was within a mile of the border. Any boomer over the age of eighteen drove to the neighboring state where they could buy Cherry Bombs, Lady Fingers, M-80s, Roman Candles and rockets. Mister B wasn’t a big fan of fireworks, so he never drove down on his own. One year, long before the Bicentennial, though, he did ride with his brother when Brother Boomer purchased a batch for the Fourth of July.

The Bicentennial was a big deal, and though celebrated differently from one area to another, boomers had a front-row seat. What Bicentennial memories do you have, boomers?

Please note: This is an edited version of a post first published by Mister Boomer on June 26, 2016.

Boomers Participated in Spring Cleaning

The annual ritual known as spring cleaning seems to wane in popularity with each passing year. There are many reasons for this, not the least of which is that time is so much more structured in the average family than it was in the 1950s and 60s. Another big consideration is that when boomers were growing up, the vast majority of mothers stayed at home. Yet even though they stayed at home, they were modern women who were most definitely interested in any technology or product that would lessen the drudgery of house work. They were not about to do things the way their mothers had to.

For the Mister Boomer household, spring cleaning fell into three main categories: personal space, seasonal replacements and seldom-performed household tasks. Mister B’s mom, the acting general in the spring cleaning attack, would request each child to “clean” their own closet. This amounted to, for the most part, removing the piles of toys in the bottom of the closet, cleaning the dust bunnies that had taken up residence, and carefully selecting toys that had been outgrown and relegating them to the storage areas of the basement. Rearranging the toys to place back completed the bottom half of the closet cleaning. Of course for some, like Mister B’s brother, the piles that went back in looked a lot like the piles that started.

The second part of the annual closet cleaning was connected to seasonal replacements. Each spring, fall and winter, clothes in the closets were gathered and moved en masse to an armoire in the basement. From the basement storage, spring and summer ensembles, smelling of moth balls, were resurrected and, like spring itself, renewed for another year in the light of the season.

The family hall closet got the same treatment. Each family member removed and stored the winter coats, scarves, hats and gloves and replaced them with the lighter-weight outerwear needed for spring weather.

Sometimes, Mister B’s mom would want to kick it up a notch and clean the walls in the bedrooms and living room. The kids hated that job, but, armed with old rags and buckets filled with warm water and sudsy Mr. Clean or Spic ‘N Span, they’d dutifully wipe the walls, climbing on chairs to reach up to the ceiling. Part of the reason Mister B hated the job was that brown gook — residue from the smoking habits of his parents — would streak down the walls.

Cleaning the Venetian blinds were another spring chore. Every window had Venetian blinds. Having the oldest child assist in removing them from each room, the blinds were set out on the backyard grass. There, Mister B and his brother would train the garden hose on the horizontal slats, “power washing” the winter’s dust from the white aluminum. Next they’d drape the blinds over the backyard clotheslines to dry in the sun, while Mister B’s mom took a brush and soapy water to any tough remaining spots. When things weren’t coming clean, she’d fill an aluminum tub with soapy water and dunk the blinds, letting each soak a few minutes so the modern cleaning technology could do its work.

All-purpose cleaners like Mr. Clean appeared in the 1950s, appealing to women looking to save them from the drudgery of housework the way their mothers had to do it. As far as boomers’ moms were concerned, these cleaners did a great job while simplifying their lives with one product for multiple uses.

Marketers, ever tapped into popular culture, never missed a trick to tie their product into popular movie and TV shows of the time. When this commercial was released, the James Bond series had hit the silver screen while The Man from U.N.C.L.E. appeared on TV.

The final spring cleaning ritual was delegated to Mister Boomer and Brother Boomer; it involved the outdoor storm windows. The boys retrieved window screens from the basement and brought them to the backyard, where a quick hose-down removed any remaining dirt from the previous year. Then, Brother Boomer, as the eldest, got on the family’s six-foot ladder outside each window outside as Mister B took up position on the inside. Sliding each storm window up the aluminum slats until reaching the opening where it could be removed, the boys took down the heavy glass storm windows and replaced them with the summer screens.

Completing the window-to-screen task, a simple twist of threaded screws on the aluminum frame of the front door was all that was needed to removed the door glass, and quick as a wink, it was transformed from storm door to screen door.

What spring cleaning tasks were you required to do as youngsters, boomers?

Please note: This is an edited version of a post first published by Mister Boomer on May 22, 2011.