We're done. Hiatally. Promise. By now I know you're longing for the same-old-same-old, and I am ready to provide it . . . with a twist. As you'll see, come Monday.

In the meantime, we struggle personfully through another segment of fleeting Americana, never meant to be preserved, let alone studied or held up as a fragment of a lost civilization.

Back to Charlie Tuna in the first one:

   
 

You’re a total feeb, kid, and the reason you can’t find your chick is because you got wavy lines coming out of your pits that actually come through the radio speaker.

     
   
 

Good ol' Noah joke, can't go wrong

   

“How about this: every time someone thinks about our dealership and our brand, they think of a pervert pumping quarters into a peep show booth”

   
 

"Join me" "No"

   

The hip new mod sound of Pepsi! Giving away cars, which might shift brand preference for .006% of the market for a month.

   
 

"Void where prohibited!" We were used to that phrase at the end of every ad, and wondered where these things were prohibited. Couldn't be a fun place.

   

How many times can we say "Delightful"?

   
 

They've truncated the tagline. Clever.

   

Duddleliddle dud

   
 

SEVENTEEN?

   

Sounds awful. Lots of naughty words. Imdb: Ellen Burstyn, appearing totally nude, is also good as Miller's wife, although she isn't given too much to do.

 

 

 

Another look at Continental. In what seems like a million hiatal Bleats aside, I wondered if I recognized the actress playing a stew. I thought it was Suzanne Somers.

No such doubt here.

The DC-10 with the Sordid Buffet, Electronic Pub Pong, and Ming the Merciless. I think I’m going to cry.

HOLD ON A MOMENT

We're more distant from this ad than he was from his screen days.

They’re really proud of this movie-condensation feature. Why not just one, as it was meant to be seen?

Picking up on the boo-hoo theme, we have this campaign. No more movies or pubs or any of that - we’re going for comedy.

I recognize half of these people:

We end here:

It was a different world. I barely remember it.

We conclude with this week's Hiatal Contest:

A 1924 newspaper contest that went on forever.

That's it! Back Monday with . . . a grand adventure.