Time for Timer PSA, “Hanker for a Hunk of Cheese” (1970s)

Today (Jan. 20) is National Cheese Lovers Day. In this PSA from the 1970s, a blob dressed like a cowboy sings about his appetite for cheese and makes cheese and cracker sandwiches (“wagon wheels”). It was part of a series of such PSAs called Time for Timer that ran on ABC. Timer is the cartoon blob’s name.

He looks like he spends his spare time chaining hookers up to the hot water heater in his basement.

Back in the olden days when Saturday mornings were chock full of awesome cartoons on every channel on the dial, the folks behind all of that programming decided that some helpful/educational stuff needed to be thrown into the mix as well. So we learned about adverbs and how bills were pushed through congress among other nifty nuggets of information. In that mix we also got Timer. Now I have no clue what the hell Timer was exactly but he was really big on kids eating healthy breakfasts and brushing our teeth. And cheese…the guy had a serious hankering for cheese. He also was freakishly into teaching kids how to make homemade Popsicles. And he was very creepy. Very very creepy.

Jumpin’ Jack Flash that dude was disturbing! Honestly, is this thing what you want your child being exposed to at an impressionable age?

Schoolhouse rocks!

Today, my son’s dyslexia tutor suggested we get him some recorded songs to help our auditory learner remember his multiplication facts. Thinking that was a brilliant idea, I hit up my friend Google for some suggestions. As I was flipping through the treasure trove of information, I happened upon something I could not resist. Schoolhouse Rock! Need I say anything more? I have many happy memories of sitting in front of Saturday morning television watching cartoons and catching all kinds of useful information from Schoolhouse Rock! I tell you with absolute certainty that the only reason I can recite the entire Preamble to the Constitution is because I can sing it first in my head to a tune I remember from those Saturday mornings. True story.

Joe was sitting with me as I was looking  at Amazon trying to decide which DVDs to order. He looked over at my laptop and saw Schoolhouse Rock on the page. He got very excited.

“I’ve seen these!” he exclaimed. “My teacher shows these to us in class.”

“Really?” I replied. I knew his teacher, Mrs. Downs, was good people.

“Yes. All the math ones and some social studies ones. Here….I’ll show you,” he said as he ran off to grab his iPad.

He came back with a bunch of videos queued up on You Tube. He opened up the Elementary, My Dear video about the two times table and hit play. We sat and watched it. It made me smile. After that we watched Three Is A Magic Number. Then, I saw it in the side margin. A video of The Preamble. I clicked on the link.

“I know this one, Joe. Watch.”

Then, along with the video, I sang the entire Preamble while my son watched in complete amazement. At least, I think it was amazement. I prefer to think he was looking at me with awe because he had no idea I knew these videos rather than in horror because I should by law be banned from singing publicly. I prefer to think he’s continually shocked by how smart his mother truly is.

I have to wonder if my boys would have had struggled as much as they have with their math facts if they would have had the pleasure of sitting each Saturday morning and watching Schoolhouse Rock like I did. I’m not entirely sure that the Schoolhouse Rock songs cemented the math facts into my head, but it is kind of intriguing that 35 years later I still remember the words to the Preamble I learned while catching my dose of Saturday morning cartoons. It can’t all be coincidental. Some of the things I saw as a child stuck.

I wish more networks made programming choices based around what was best for people rather than what made them the most money. There was a time when there were public service announcements on television for our children to watch, things like Time for Timer where kids would learn about healthy food choices. Now, though, our kids get nothing but a healthy dose of ads for all sorts of processed junk food and then more junk food in the form of brainless programming all hours of the day and night, on demand even.

Maybe it’s a romantic notion to wish that we could go back to a time when there was some actual thought given as a society to how to raise children to become well-balanced, informed, thoughtful, healthy, and creative individuals. I admit it. I wish kids had less homework and more time on their bicycles, fewer hours of television and more hours for creative and social interaction with friends via a means other than texting. I’m a dinosaur, I know. I’m not suggesting we go back to the 1970′s (personally, bell bottoms pants were never a look I could rock), but it would be nice if we could give our kids a little bit of the childhood we had. It might be nice to give them a break from the innumerable activities topped off with hours of homework. As I think about Schoolhouse Rock, what becomes clear is that it’s not that our children watch too much television but rather that they watch too much of the wrong television. The things I learned on Saturday mornings have stuck with me this long, and now I’m going to share them with my kids. Hopefully they will remember Conjunction Junction and I’m Just A Bill and forget everything they’ve ever seen on My Little Pony.

Ugh…What does “Time for Timer!” even mean?!? If you were a child of the 1970′s this phrase is what jarred you from your zombie-like state during Saturday Morning cartoons. That’s right, cartoons were only on Saturday mornings. If you were lucky you might be able to also watch “Tom and Jerry” and/or “The Super Friends” for an hour after school. But I digress. And not everyone was so lucky, so I don’t want to boast here. Nothing is worse than stewed hard-feelings, especially among an online community of people you’ve never seen or met who enjoy reading your blog. But, again, I, regrettably, digress.

Saturday Morning cartoons were a staple of not only my childhood, but the childhood of Generation X. I remember waking up at the crack of yawn to secure my spot in front of our black and white 13-inch television with tinfoil on the antenna, and tune in for a few hours of cartoon-centered kid heaven. I don’t think I’d move an inch and I’m sure my mouth was agape with shock as if I was watching a warped live-action reality from somewhere else in the galaxy.

The cartoons were one hundred percent textbook pieces of 1970′s animation. Bad hairdos, bad fashion and bad color schemes all hustled their way into this art form. Art is an imitation of life, after all. And the musical soundtracks for these cartoons were time capsules as well.  You can almost imagine the musicians: middle-aged, overweight men with polyester pants and white patent leather shoes, probably sipping on some sort of a drink called a “Rusty Side Car” while they played the groovinist notes their wind instruments could bleat. Typical cartoon music of the time: blaring trombones, sneaky xylophones, and numerous sound effects that remain unidentified to this day. Example: Scooby and shaggy startled by another alleged monster start running in place quickly for a few seconds before they finally were able to take off. Also: any music that was a transition between scenes in the Super Friends – eerily creepy, and yet the suspenseful mania it generated was without compare.

But back to “Time for Timer!”  The TV executives in 1970′s must have thought this brief exposure to animation, and it’s associated cereal commercial brainwashing, were too toxic in its pure form. To counteract this poison, Public Service Announcements were played to show kids what a good breakfast would be, or why they need to eat Wagon Wheels – a revolutionary snack idea of cheese and crackers. The little cartoon hero, named “Timer” was a nondescript blob in a top hat, cane and bow tie. He also had some limber gams. He would sing and tap dance his way across the screen as he instructed young minds to fill ice cube trays with juice and tooth picks, eat a bowl of ice with cauliflower on top, or even have a peanut butter sandwich for breakfast. This last tidbit was revolutionary and blasphemous in my house, as we were served breakfasts of plain oatmeal and orange juice with brewers yeast in it. Hey, it was the seventies, and my mom was just keepin’ it natural.

Only in my later years did I realize this nondescript blob was really a stomach personified. A dancing stomach! And in this era we are in of childhood obesity, it is almost hard to believe they had to have PSA’s when I was a kid REMINDING kids to eat breakfast, or have an afterschool snack! So, now, as a parent, I’m thinking  about the consequences of our 24/7 cartoon marathon cable channels, and 24/7 kid centered programming, and the many other reasons kids have today to sit and stare. I’m wondering if there is a connection. Maybe I should put my family on the Saturday Morning Cartoon Diet where once a week we sit and stare at the TV for two hours, and for the entire rest of the week we are so busy playing outside that we might forget to have our after school Wagon Wheels.

Why is America so chubby? I’ll tell you why. It’s because of this dude, Timer. Look at him. Now look away. Now look back at him but pretend like you’re looking at something else. Did you see him? He’s grotesque, isn’t he? He’s like a little fat tumor with legs. Somehow, he was the star of a handful of “Eat Healthy Kids” commercials back in the day. Oh, I should have put a comma between healthy and kids. “Eat Healthy, Kids”. That’s better. I’m not accusing him of advocating cannibalism. Although I think we can all agree healthy kids probably taste better than sickly kids, but that’s just common sense…Sorry, I got sidetracked… it happens. Anyways, this commercial was the most popular of the bunch, and it was on all the time. I mean All…The…Time.. So one day after school, Lil’ Bill was famished from a particularly hard day of recess. Not so much morning recess, that was enjoyable. But afternoon recess was a bitch. Lotta dodging balls that day. Anyways, good ol’ Timer shows up on the tv and says to me, he says,”Hey Bill, you’re hungry right?”. ” Eat this wagon wheel of cheese.” So I did, and I loved it. I became hooked. From that day on, whenever I was even the slightest bit hungry, I would eat exorbitant amounts of various exquisite cheeses, both imported and domestic. It didn’t matter to me if the cheese was in hunk, slab, slice, and/or chunk form. I just couldn’t stop, and I just didn’t care. It’s a disease. A deadly and delicious disease. It made socializing awkward. I couldn’t tell you the number of times I’d be at a cookout and the chef would ask, “Do you want a hamburger or cheeseburger, Bill?”. I would instinctively reply,”I’ll have a Cheeseburger, please, thank you very much. I’m quite hungry”. The telltale, textbook sign of a junkie. Always jonesing for the next fix whilst remaining extremely polite and effusively grateful. But I quickly started spiraling out of control. When I could no longer afford the expensive “designer” cheeses, I started buying processed cheese foods and spray cheeses. I’d go through big boxes of Velveeta like they were small boxes of Velveeta. Soon I hit rock bottom. I started stealing cheeses from friends and loved ones. Oh, it was just a slice here or there at first. I would pretend to get a bottle of water from the fridge and pocket a Kraft Single or two. Maybe I’d do a quick bump of parmesan cheese if no one was looking. Soon it was whole pounds of freshly purchased cheeses disappearing from countless fridges of the people I supposedly loved…. I was a trainwreck….. There was no stopping me. I was ashamed of, and sickened by, the monster I’d become. Then I woke up one day and had an epiphany. I looked at myself in the mirror and I said to myself,”Myself… cut the shit”, and the shit was cut. Shortly thereafter I started smoking crack, and lost interest in cheese or any other food entirely. So that might have helped.

Either way, problem solved.

Time for Timer was all about Atkins when the rest of us were all about counting calories and drinking TAB.  So progressive!  Though it was a strange coincidence him looking so much like Mr. Peanut and also pushing the protein.  Was he suicidal?  Did he believe his afterlife would be spent inside all of our bodies as we became what we ate – him?  Creepy.

Say your 10 gallon hat is feeling 5 gallons flat, by all means grab a hunk of cheese.  Likewise, if your knees are weak, you’re slow on the draw or you’re just having a good old-fashioned hankering, grab a hunk of cheese.  Look, a wagon wheel!

1. If you returned from camping last spring what would you need to unpack?

2. If you could skate, it would be great, if you could make… a what?

3. When Reginald was home with the flu, the Dr. told him what he could do, he cured the infection with one small injection while Reginald was calling out…what?

4. Mister Morton is the subject of the sentence, and what the predicate says he…what?

5. When Benjamin Franklin was flying his kite he was looking for…what?

6. What were father, son, and Lolly selling?

7. According to the PSA, what would people call you if you didn’t brush your teeth?

8. The anti-condiment PSA was called what?

9. Time for Timer! If you had a “hankering” for a snack, what should you eat?

10. After these messages, we’ll be…what?

Have a dynomite weekend everybody. Check ya later! (Answers found in the Comments.)

turkey and cranberries on a typical thanksgiving dinner table

cranberries are a traditional side dish served with turkey on thanksgiving day in the u.s.  cranberry products  have become noticeably more popular in the past five years, as mentioned in the article cranberry goes mainstream:

In early December of last year there were already 562 new cranberry product launches for 2009, 38 more than in 2008 and nearly twice the 310 debuts of 2005.  Euromonitor analyst Ewa Hudson says “It seems that consumers have really taken to the distinctive cranberry taste, and have started to expect cranberry versions of virtually any product, which is either fruit-based or conventionally features a fruit component.”

these irish cranberrries are also famous

are you familiar with the pomegranate?

pomegranate is a popular fruit in mexico, but before i moved here i had never seen one and only heard of it in this public service announcement that was played during saturday morning cartoons back in the day(pomegranate juice is suggested as one alternative for making “sunshine on a stick”, the healthy snack they are promoting at :40).

the pomegranate, like the cranberry has benefitted from the development of the concept of  superfruit, or fruits that are exotic and supposedly have characteristics that make them healthier than other fruits.

 in cranberry goes mainstream, chris brockman, a market researcher with leatherhead observes

“The superfruit trend has obviously kick-started demand along with blueberries, goji berries, pomegranate, and acai berries in particular which along with cranberries appear to be the more established superfruits now.”

If you’re an American about the age of 40 or so, and unless you’d been living under a rock or with a Nevada cult in the 1970s, you undoubtedly recall these Saturday morning PSAs. “Time for Timer” featured a lemon-shaped gremlin in a top hat and bow tie (evoking a citrusy Rodney Dangerfield) with ideas on how to help latchkey kids make life choices. ‘Timer’ taught you the proper way to brush your teeth, to choose real cheese over Cheetos, and, weirdest of all, how to make “sunshine on a stick.”

This particular PSA I remember well, because some friends and I actually took the little shit’s advice and tried to make fruit pops from toothpicks and ice trays.

It never worked right. Saran Wrap in the ’70s was clingy stuff and not meant to be wrassled with by a 7 year-old. Ice cube trays in those days had that weird separator bar that you had to jiggle to free the ice, and I could never find a) enough fruit juice or b) toothpicks. I think once we had to go ask a neighbor for toothpicks. Timer’s little PSAs ran aground long before we aged. When the Saturday shorts came on, in between cartoons, it was no longer time to pay rapt attention, but rather time to head to the kitchen for more King Vitaman.

Timer’s time was up by the late ’70s, though he managed to flip and swagger his lemony self into the 1980s by the way of reruns. By then I, and my like-minded generation, had long found other things to “turn us on.”

Time for Timer was the collective title for a short series of public service announcements broadcast on Saturday mornings on the ABC television network starting in the early 1970s. The animated spots featured Timer, a tiny (often ranging on microscopic) cartoon character who represented the sense of “time” in the human body.

I remember sitting glued to the TV every time Timer come on. Who could forget “I Hanker for a Hunk of Cheese” or “You Are What You Eat“? Or my favorite “Sunshine on a Stick” (how to make ice pops with fruit juice, an ice tray, and toothpicks).

I think I tried to make these when I was a kid, but I was too impatient to wait till they froze. I might make an adult version of them now. Freeze orange juice, lemonade or pomegranate juice or what ever turns me on…(did Timer really say that in the PSA??) — minus the toothpicks. After they freeze, put them in a glass with a little vodka!

Now that is what I call “Sunshine in a glass”!