Totally Normal in the ’70s: 25 Bizarre Things That Would Shock Us Today
Tonight's Episode
Buckle up for a groovy time warp as The Strange History Podcast takes you back to the 1970s—a decade where kids drank from hoses, parents smoked in delivery rooms, and seatbelts were just decoration. Host Amy unpacks 25 jaw-dropping things that were completely normal in the '70s but would be downright shocking today. From mercury in classrooms to hitchhiking across state lines, this episode is a hilarious, nostalgic, and sometimes cringeworthy look at the decade that dared to be weird. If you remember Tang, shag carpet, or licking the spoon after making instant pudding, this one’s for you. Perfect for fans of retro culture, Gen X nostalgia, and anyone who wonders how we survived childhood in the strangest decade of the 20th century.Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/the-strange-history-podcast--5773362/support.
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Speaker 1: Welcome back to the Strange History Podcast, the podcast where
Speaker 1: we dive deep into the weird, the wild, and the
Speaker 1: often wonderfully uncomfortable corners of the past. I'm your host, Amy,
Speaker 1: and today we're going back, way back to a time
Speaker 1: of shag carpet, asbestos insulation, and the Marlborough Man. That's right,
Speaker 1: we're taking a psychedelic trip down memory lane to the
Speaker 1: nineteen seventies, a decade so packed with oddities and contradictions
Speaker 1: it feels like it happened in a parallel universe, except
Speaker 1: that millions of us actually lived through it. So put
Speaker 1: on your flared genes, fire up the fondue pot, and
Speaker 1: get ready to marvel, laugh, and maybe cringe a little
Speaker 1: as we explore a long list of things that were
Speaker 1: completely normal in the nineteen seventies and would be absolutely
Speaker 1: bonkers today. Back in the nineteen seventies, smoke was practically
Speaker 1: part of the decor. It hung thick in restaurants, floated
Speaker 1: through office buildings, and filled the air on airplanes. You
Speaker 1: could sit in a hospital waiting room and watch your
Speaker 1: doctor exhale a cloud of Winston smoke between patient visits.
Speaker 1: Teachers smoked in the teacher's lounge and occasionally right in
Speaker 1: front of the blackboard. Entire family dinners were hosted around
Speaker 1: a haze of secondhand smoke, while the kids passed the
Speaker 1: ketchup and ash trays in equal measure. And speaking of transportation,
Speaker 1: hitchhiking wasn't seen as reckless. It was seen as normal.
Speaker 1: Teens with duffel bags and patched up jeans would just
Speaker 1: stick out their thumb and catch a ride. Sometimes cross
Speaker 1: country Hitchhiking was how you got to music festivals, to college,
Speaker 1: to grandma's house. Parents might even offer some friendly advice,
Speaker 1: like make sure it's not a weirdo and send you
Speaker 1: off with a bologna sandwich in a brown paper bag.
Speaker 1: Drinking and driving far more socially accepted than you'd imagine.
Speaker 1: A man could finish a six pack on the drive
Speaker 1: home from the bowling, and if the cops pulled him over,
Speaker 1: the likely outcome was a friendly warning, drive safe, pal,
Speaker 1: they'd say, perhaps even tipping their hat as the driver
Speaker 1: peeled off half in the bag. For kids, freedom meant
Speaker 1: something truly wild. No supervision. You were expected to leave
Speaker 1: the house after breakfast and not show your face again
Speaker 1: until the street lights flickered on. Parents had no idea
Speaker 1: where you were, and most of the time, neither did you.
Speaker 1: You climbed trees, dug questionable holes in the backyard, and
Speaker 1: rode your bike like evil Knievel over homemade ramps made
Speaker 1: of plywood and cinderblocks. Helmets, please. Helmets were for professional
Speaker 1: motorcyclists and nobody else. Cars themselves were rolling metal living
Speaker 1: rooms with ash trays in every seat. Seat belts were
Speaker 1: often shoved deep into the upholstery, unused and unnoticed. Babies
Speaker 1: bounced on laps in the front seat, Toddlers lounged in
Speaker 1: the back window, and no one thought twice about it.
Speaker 1: Family road trips were survival of the fittest, and if
Speaker 1: you got car sick, tough luck. Here's a napkin. In
Speaker 1: science class, your teacher might casually let you play with mercury.
Speaker 1: You'd roll the silvery beads across the desk like some
Speaker 1: kind of magical alien goo, then chase them with your
Speaker 1: pencil as they broke apart and reformed. No gloves, no warnings,
Speaker 1: just don't swallow it. Most kids were latchkey kids. You'd
Speaker 1: get off the school bus, unlock the door with the key,
Speaker 1: hanging around your neck and fix yourself a snack, usually
Speaker 1: something like a peanut butter and marshmallow fluff sandwich washed
Speaker 1: down with a glass of tang. Then it was time
Speaker 1: for the Brady Bunch or Gilligan's Island reruns before starting
Speaker 1: your homework with a pencil sharpened by a loud wall
Speaker 1: mounted grinder. Kitchen decor was a fever dream. Everything came
Speaker 1: in harvest gold, avocado green, or burnt orange. If your fridge, stove,
Speaker 1: and tupperware didn't match one of those colors, were you
Speaker 1: even living? And the shag carpet, it was so thick
Speaker 1: you could lose your shoe in it. Vacuuming felt like
Speaker 1: hiking through underbrush. Television was an instant gratification. You had three,
Speaker 1: maybe four channels, and you had to get up and
Speaker 1: walk to the TV to change them. Click click, click,
Speaker 1: You'd smack the side if the picture got fuzzy, And
Speaker 1: when you wanted to watch something, you had to wait
Speaker 1: all week for it to come on. If you missed it,
Speaker 1: you missed it. No replays, no DVR, no mercy. Doctors
Speaker 1: rewarded you with candy. After getting your tonsils checked, you'd
Speaker 1: get a lollipop from the doctor, and dentists had bowls
Speaker 1: of sugar retreats in the waiting room. Sugar was everywhere,
Speaker 1: in cereal, in drinks, in health snacks. You'd start your
Speaker 1: day with a bowl of fruit loops and end it
Speaker 1: with a tube of pixie sticks and a can of tab.
Speaker 1: Lead paint was still coating every toy chest, windowsill and
Speaker 1: crib rail and asbestos. That was the miracle material that
Speaker 1: kept your house fireproof. Kids could pull apart crumbling insulation
Speaker 1: in basements like they were harvesting fluffy white snow. Nobody blinked.
Speaker 1: Parents didn't hover, They pushed. If you told your mom
Speaker 1: you were bored, she'd say, then go outside and find
Speaker 1: something to do. That was the end of the conversation.
Speaker 1: You were expected to entertain yourself, which led to hours
Speaker 1: of tree climbing, worm collecting, and mildly dangerous games involving
Speaker 1: pointy sticks and questionable dares. On Halloween, strangers handed out
Speaker 1: homemade treats, popcorn balls, candied apples, even hand wrapped fudge.
Speaker 1: Parents encouraged you to take one from Missus Jenkins down
Speaker 1: the street. She was known for her chocolate turtles, razor blades,
Speaker 1: poison That urban legend hadn't caught on yet. Trust was
Speaker 1: still currency in the neighborhood economy. Mascots and advertising were
Speaker 1: a wild, unfiltered jungle. Joe Cammell was a cartoon character
Speaker 1: designed to sell cigarettes to adults and unintentionally to kids.
Speaker 1: Beer commercials aired during primetime TV, and women were always
Speaker 1: shown giggling in bikinis while men grilled steaks and drank schlitz.
Speaker 1: Ronald McDonald showed up at birthday parties unannounced and didn't
Speaker 1: terrify anyone until much later. Roller rinks were like Studio
Speaker 1: fifty four for sixth graders. You'd show up in striped
Speaker 1: tube socks and short shorts, circle the rink to KC
Speaker 1: and the Sunshine Band and hope the DJ called for
Speaker 1: a couple's skates so you could hold sweaty hands with
Speaker 1: your crush under the disco ball. Everyone had a bowl
Speaker 1: cut or feathered hair. You either looked like a mushroom
Speaker 1: or a Charlie's Angel. Parents cut your hair in the
Speaker 1: kitchen using a mixing bowl for precision. Photos from the
Speaker 1: era looked like everyone was auditioning for the mod Squad,
Speaker 1: whether they meant to or not. Birthday parties often involved clowns,
Speaker 1: full clown painted faces, squeaky shoes, big red noses, and
Speaker 1: not the ironic kind. Kids loved them. Nobody thought they
Speaker 1: were creepy until much later, when pop culture gave us
Speaker 1: nightmares in the form of Pennywise. Dinner was often served
Speaker 1: in a metal tray. TV dinners were a marvel meat, peas, potatoes,
Speaker 1: and a brownie, all compartmentalized in microwave together or baked
Speaker 1: in the oven if your family didn't have a microwave yet.
Speaker 1: Tang was served with pride. After all, the astronauts drank it,
Speaker 1: and anything the astronauts did was basically gospel. Flying on
Speaker 1: a plane was an event. People dressed up, men wore
Speaker 1: suits and ties, women wore skirts and heels. You got
Speaker 1: a hot meal and a tiny bottle of wine. Even
Speaker 1: in coach, the seats were plush, the windows had curtains,
Speaker 1: and the stewardesses as they were then called, served drinks
Speaker 1: like it was a cocktail lounge in the sky. Women
Speaker 1: wore pantyhose with everything under dresses, skirts, and somehow even shorts.
Speaker 1: You might be dripping sweat on a summer day, but
Speaker 1: if your legs weren't covered in sheer nylon, you were
Speaker 1: practically indecent. Phones were tethered to the wall with long
Speaker 1: cords that could stretch halfway across the house. Privacy meant
Speaker 1: dragging the receiver into a closet and whispering while sitting
Speaker 1: on the floor. If someone called your house and the
Speaker 1: line was busy, they got a busy signal, No voicemail,
Speaker 1: no call waiting, just beep, beep, beep, and try again later.
Speaker 1: You take photos on a thirty five millimeter camera and
Speaker 1: have to wait a week for them to be developed
Speaker 1: at the drug store. Half the photos would be out
Speaker 1: of focus or have someone blinking, but it didn't matter.
Speaker 1: You slid them into a sticky photo album, wrote the
Speaker 1: date on the margin and called it a memory. TV shows, commercials,
Speaker 1: even board games, were riddled with casual sexism and off
Speaker 1: color joe folks that no one questioned. Game shows like
Speaker 1: The Dating Game treated women like door prizes. Ads praised
Speaker 1: floor wax and dish soap as the greatest gifts you
Speaker 1: could give your wife. Public pools were cloudy, overly chlorinated,
Speaker 1: and full of unsupervised children. Lifeguards spent more time flirting
Speaker 1: than watching the deep end. If you got a mouthful
Speaker 1: of pool water, it was just part of the experience.
Speaker 1: Nobody questioned the hygiene, and best of all, no one
Speaker 1: knew where you were, and it was glorious. You were
Speaker 1: off the grid, truly unreachable. If someone wanted to find you,
Speaker 1: they had to drive around the neighborhood calling your name,
Speaker 1: or wait until you showed up at dinner time, sunburned,
Speaker 1: filthy and thrilled from a day of freedom. It was
Speaker 1: the seventies, a time when your mom smoked in the
Speaker 1: grocery store, your dad wore socks with sandals unironically, and
Speaker 1: you thought riding in the way back of a station
Speaker 1: wagon was the pinnacle of luxury transportation. It was unsafe, unsupervised,
Speaker 1: and in many ways, unforgettable. If this episode gave you
Speaker 1: a nostalgic chuckle, a cringe, or a flashback to your
Speaker 1: own bowl cut, be sure to follow the Strange History
Speaker 1: podcast wherever you get your podcasts, leave us a review,
Speaker 1: tell a friend, or just shout it out your car
Speaker 1: window like it's nineteen seventy seven and you've just discovered disco.
Speaker 1: Until next time, keep it strange, but maybe skip the
Speaker 1: asbestos
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