In this episode of "Do It At Home, America!" we uncover the secret savings of keeping your toilet bowl clean with nothing but common household objects -- 1970s style!
I grew up in the 1970s. I didn't wear a bike helmet. I didn't even own a bike helmet. I am not certain if manufacturers made them for my type of social, local biking. I biked all over town, helmet-free, hair blowing in the wind, thinking nothing of it.
Looking at the calendar, it's already spring. Yet the calendar is irrelevant here in Chicago, as it offers no help in predicting the arrival of warmer weather. In fact, I acknowledge the arrival of the season the same way every year. Like magic, a day comes when the streets and sidewalks seem to be overflowing with beautiful women wearing shorts, skirts or dresses.
In the late 1960s no one could imagine the possibility of multiple female Secretaries of State, just as they couldn't imagine a two-term African-American President. And to get from there to here took a lot of courage and struggle by many, many people.
I recently remembered how much I liked winter when I was a kid. Although I first recalled the clothes, it wasn't about fashion. Everyone played outside. All you needed was warm, durable clothing that allowed relatively free movement. If you stayed active, you stayed warm.
Someday, we could face the decision that confronts many seniors: the need to move to assisted living. Obviously, I hope this will be a long way off, but it's not too soon to start thinking about it.
Even if you haven't ever been to Vermont, you've got some Green Mountains in your mind. I know you do. There's that image of a town with candles in windows. There are those trees tapped for sugaring. And there's that swirling nighttime snow.
It's by far the biggest, best and most surprising entertainment news of 2012, yet still no one knows quite what to make of it: starting in 2015 we're getting a new Star Wars trilogy, beginning with Episode VII, supervised by George Lucas and produced by Disney.
I can vividly picture Michael walking toward the car. He had longish blonde hair and was wearing a green military-looking jacket. I had never seen him before but the thought flitted through my mind with absolute clarity: I'm going to marry him.
It's one thing to refrain from gender-stereotyped gift-giving as a parent, but another to raise girls who cherish toy machine guns and boys who cradle baby dolls like the girls and boys Photoshopped -- yes, Photoshopped -- into the Swedish catalog.
In our nation's Northeast, it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas the 1970s oil crisis. Thanks to the back-to-back struggles of Hurricane San...
If I didn't have it in 1977, you won't be allowed to have it in 2012.
And lo, the word went out to New York’s songwriters and children’s book authors and frustrated Broadway bards and William Morris clients in the sp...
I want to tell you about an unsung suburban unaware-of-feminism-whatsoever Pennsylvanian housewife, mother of four, who in the embryonic days of the women's movement, in one fluke moment, became a frickin' bona fide boxing judge!
Welsh singer Shirley Bassey may stand at just five foot and three inches, but the diva's voice is larger than life. Launching her career at the tender...
Bloggers have become some of the least-censored cultural voice of our time, much like musicians were to the 1960s, 70s and 80s.
Our nation's great thirst for oil should come as no surprise to anyone. What's surprising is that we continue to wrap our wars in the rhetoric of "freedom" even as we pursue the fix that our leaders believe they need to thrive: foreign oil, and lots of it.
British actress Stephanie Beacham knew what she was doing when it came to big hair and dramatic makeup -- she was a soap opera star, after all. The "C...
I met Gary on a sticky summer morning in 1979 when I boarded the minibus for my first day of camp. He sat alone on the Naugahyde seat, looking like a grade school Clint Eastwood.
Re-watching The Bad News Bears, I was reminded of my tomboy roots, my need for adventure and laughter, and the importance of doing things with authenticity and humor.
Reading of Vidal Sassoon's death, I remembered with much fondness and wonder that time in England when I lived on Wild Hatch. I could see myself sitting in the candlelit salon on the High Street, emerging with the odd, experimental hairstyles.
Michael Vaccaro and Terrence Moss are attempting to capture the spirit of the 1970s in a new Web series, Child of the '70s. The two recently met with me to discuss this shared love of the '70s and how it helped inspire their new series.
Capturing a period when innocence was under assault on all fronts, director Julia Dyer (Late Bloomers), shooting from a script by her sister Gretchen, tells a tale old and young facing uncertain futures, not all of them with a suitable measure of grace.
Mitt Romney, whose business experience enabled him to be 47th in the nation with respect to job growth when he was a one-term governor of Massachusetts, has told us that he is going to "restore" America.
The charming and hilarious Ben Wheatley spoke to me about growing up afraid in the '70s, co-writing the script for Kill List with his wife, Amy Jump, and why being chased by a horde of naked people is so damn scary.
