If You Wanna Buy a Truck, Pussycow
I grew up, mostly, in northern California, in Marin County. You know — where Zoey lives. I wanted my books to occur where my heart was. It didn’t hurt that I’ve got friends out there who answer questions or take pictures for me when I need to see something more clearly than Google Streetview. (Thanks, Kate! Thanks, Paul!)
But I wasn’t born there. I was born in southern California. And I lived there until I was eight.
Which is a long, rambling way of explaining why the death of a car salesman in L.A. made me sad when I heard about it today.
Cal Worthington was an icon. His commercials demanded attention. What was Cal up to this time? They always started the same way: “I’m Cal Worthington, and this is my dog, Spot!” Spot was never a dog. Not once. I saw Cal ride an elephant, play with goats, walk a pony, wrestle a tiger…I never saw a dog.
Then cue the theme that was reminiscent of the Beverly Hillbillies song sung to the tune of “If You’re Happy and You Know It.” I never knew what the words were. I didn’t care, I was a kid. I sang along anyway, as loud as I could.
“If you wanna buy a truck, pussycow. If you’re kinda short on cash pussycow. If you wanna lalalal lala lala lalala, pussycow, pussycow, pussycow.
I went back to the area as an adult, and there was Cal on TV, still with his dog spot who still wasn’t a dog, still selling cars in his Slim Pickens outfit and, by God, still playing that song.
Except, now I could understand the words. Pussycow was actually “Go see Cal.” I laughed so hard I nearly peed myself.
And then continued to sing along with the same words I’d already used.
I never bought a car in southern California, so I never had the opportunity to pussycow go see Cal. But it always made me happy, when I was in the area, to see that his commercials were still going strong.
He was quite the character, and he was part of my childhood. Never underestimate the strange building blocks that make up who you are.
Apparently, ninety-two-year-old Cal died yesterday watching football. I think that’s awesome.
If our pets are all waiting for us on the other side of the tunnel when we die, Cal Worthington had a zoo full of “dogs” named Spot, eager to greet him.
Thanks for the cool addition to my childhood, Cal.
Pussycow. Pussycow. Pussycow.
Never been to CA but I certainly do remember Cal Worthington. He was in fact a national celebrity through his visits to the Johnny Carson show.
Johnny used to have him on every time the show (then in New York) would broadcast for two weeks in the summer from Burbank (I think). When the show moved to CA, Cal was a regular guest and Johnny used to do skits making fun of his commercials.
So here also, another piece of my childhood is gone.
Oh, wow. The legend is even bigger than I knew. Man. Now I miss Johnny, too.
I totally get this. Every now and then I get the urge to “Take the wheel of my automobile and swing on down to IDEAL”. That is only after I have a passion for fashion and a craving for savings. It’s a local commercial that only if you grew up in the area you would understand. That and “George Washington slept here”.
I never got to Ideal.
It’s catchy, enjoy:
Who knew so much of our childhoods are wrapped up in commercials? It’s kind of weird.