(Originally
published 4/23/16)
As a boy
growing up in the Bronx during the 1970s, there were certain television ads—from
hungry businesses chumming for customers in the sprawling demographic—that repeatedly
played on local New York City stations. Mount Airy Lodge in the Pocono
Mountains—the “premier honeymoon hideaway” with its floor-to-ceiling mirrors,
heart-shaped bathtubs, and every conceivable amenity—was among them. “All you
have to bring is your love of everything,” its commercials intoned, climaxing
always with “Beautiful Mount Airy Lodge.” Why, pray tell, would anyone want to
honeymoon anyplace else? With the advertising onslaught—continuing year after
year after year—the Mount Airy Lodge seemed immortal. So, imagine my shock when
I discovered the place had fallen into utter disrepair in the 1990s—a
dilapidated eyesore that faced the wrecking ball lock, stock, and barrel. Even beautiful
Mount Airy Lodge had a finite lifespan. (The Mount Airy Casino Resort now stands
on the same terra firma.)
My
earliest memories of ubiquitous TV and radio ads involved the Palisades
Amusement Park in Palisades, New Jersey, a hop, skip, and jump across the
Hudson River. Its catchy jingle became embedded in my brain at a precocious
age: “Palisades from coast to coast, where a dime buys the most. Ride the
coaster, get cool in the waves in the pool. You’ll have fun, so come on over.
Palisades Amusement Park swings all day and after dark.”
I visited the
place once and once only on a dreary, rain-soaked afternoon. I anticipated
enjoying the park—on a sunny summer day in the future—when I was a little older
and could ride its famous roller coaster and swim in its saltwater pool. But
despite what the eight-year-old me surmised after watching and hearing its television
and radio commercial invitations time and again, Palisades Amusement Park would
not last forever. It shut down its rides and attractions for all time in
September 1971. A developer made the park’s owner an offer he could not refuse,
and its former grounds now host a series of luxury apartment buildings with
stellar views of the Manhattan skyline.
And worth
mentioning here is the Haunted Mansion in Long Branch, New Jersey. Its TV and
radio ads constantly ran during the warmer climes and always ended with the
bloodcurdling summons: “The Haunted Mansion in Long Branch…it’s waiting for
you.” I, though, never did get to “wander through its myriad of secret
passageways and winding labyrinths” because the Haunted Mansion burned to the
ground in 1987. Fortunately, I experienced its ethereal neighbor to the south,
the Brigantine Castle, in Brigantine, New Jersey. This seaside attraction promoted
itself on New York City airwaves for years and is just a memory now.
Finally,
and perhaps the bitterest pill to swallow, was the closure of the Albert
Merrill School in Manhattan. A solitary commercial featuring urbane spokesperson
Jimmy Randolph constantly ran on local television. It featured a young woman
who, by happenstance, bumps into Randolph, who is standing on a busy street and
pensively staring off into space. Immediately, she recognizes him as the man
who does the
commercials for the Albert Merrill School. Coincidentally, she
is looking for just that, which gives Jimmy the perfect excuse to walk her over
to the vocational school, while extolling its many virtues. This was the only ad
I ever recall airing, yet the actress recognizes Jimmy Randolph from the
commercials.
A
Seinfeld episode? Post-modern television for sure. But, alas, even the
Albert Merrill School is in the ash heap of history. Rest assured, everything
here today will be gone tomorrow—
one of these days. So, gather ye
rosebuds while ye may.
