After I began getting linked in high places after posting about an old PSA I'd come across, I did some research into the characters who made the video so absurdly entertaining. Dr. Sol Gordon, the certified professional whose specialty lies in the sexual education of children was, as it turned out, co-producer of an even older program called Strong Kids, Safe Kids! Peeking around the Internets, I was able to get my hands on said tape for your enjoyment, and the following isa cut of its most effortlessly bizarre and disturbing highlights. Even when edited down from 45 minutes to 4, though, Strong Kids contains enough strange segues and non sequiturs to insure a signature stamp of approval from producer Rick Hauser.
And, oh yeah, if you thought The Fonz knew how to manipulate young women, wait until you see how he brainwashes the minds of America's brightest! Made in 1984, Strong Kids, Safe Kids might have been exactly what Orwell had in mind when imagining an omnipresent force that would direct and wield the masses, except in reality, that force wore a leather jacket and bagged more pussy than the touring company of Cats.
Naturally, a breakdown of particular highlights:
Eyyyy, it's The Fonz! And you caught him at just the right time, too! Hey, who needs a job when you can hang out in your garage, polish your hog, and preach safety tips to kids and cartoons, right? ...Far out!
Henry Winkler just said he's glad to see you! What have you got to say, little guy?
Yeah, I'm in total agreement about the sweater. There's a reason Dress Barn doesn't have a men's department, Wink.
Look who's back! It's crazy Dr. Sol! And, despite the fact that he's wearing total pedo-glasses, The Good Doctor is in, and he's here to prevent your children from being kidnapped or molested. (He first might want to learn where to pick up a decent bra, am I right, ladies?? You know what I'm talking about!)
Don't forget Chris Wallace, children's musician. Hm, although there's something odd about the guy... The suspenders? The gleaming shins? The ukulele? The uncomfortable manner in which he's squeezed himself into a tube on a deserted playground? ...Wait, are we supposed to embrace him or arrest him?
John Ritter, get out of here! Save yourself! (Sorry, I can't make fun of John Ritter, not just because he's dead, but because he was 110% awesome [hello, he played a ROBOT on Buffy!] and his adorable son melted my heart in Happy Endings).
No, this was not edited out of sequence. And, no, it won't quite answer the question of "What the eff??" [A large chunk of the video I left on the cutting room floor describes "the honk," a method by which a child produces a loud noise from his diaphragm that alerts parents as to approaching danger. You know, because screaming won't cut it. If your kid sounds like Bea Arthur in heat, however, you'd best get on your feet.]
Warning: Calling your dick a "tallywhacker" guarantees you 7 years without a blow job. Choose wisely.
Chris Wallace, you share a name with a dead fat rapper and the guy who dickslapped Clinton, yet you write tunes about kiddie genitals. What will your legacy be?
Being unable to find a word to rhyme with "anus"? Got it.
And penetrating my soul with your dead, dead eyes, too? Noted.
Wow. It seems I'm now guaranteed hits by anyone who Googles "montages made to make me feel like a child rapist."
Pebbles no bam-bam with Creepy Uncle Morty? Yabba dabba do, indeed!
"Self-respect is cool and so are you. Eyyyy!" I'd pass that advice along to your cuz, if I were you, Fonz, because fucking a couch cushion isn't necessarily what comes to mind when I think of an ego boost.