Since much of the NYC television which I remember from childhood was live, obviously there would be no video clips, but I do miss the days when kids did not require elaborate sets, constant musical numbers, and, most of all, concerned parents (we baby boomers ended up really frumpy nut cases ... especially those who became parents at the age when their kids should have been 18!) worrying that dancing should be "body movement awareness," that the plastic mouth of a talking Barbie may give kids "body image problems," etc.
A few of my memories are of shows such as Fun at One (later Once Upon a Day, when the time slot changed), Charity Bailey's daily songfest with kids from local public schools (she had taught Mary Travers, but that was not mentioned then), and others - details if they ever are useful to you.
Internet has got batty! I hate to admit how much I love lots of old shows which a doctor of humanities is supposed to think were dreadful (and, indeed, artistically many were... but I'm not your average PhD, who admits to watching only news and Jacques Cousteau.)
Sad that cable TV, which used to have many reruns of shows I remember with fondness, offers less on 53 channels than we once had on 4. As a highly intense, nervous kid, I knew I could unwind on Saturday with "East Side Comedy" (reruns of the Dead End Kids) and such... When I found myself making notes on Leave it to Beaver (which I firmly think was not about being a kid, per se, but about how adults remember being kids... I still feel angry remembering June's spoiling the boys fair outing when dotty Aunt Martha unexpectedly showed up) - recalling how comforting it was to know that NO ONE, not even a shy, fat girl like myself, could ever be the naive jerk that either Cleaver son was - I knew I was doomed.
Looking for relaxation, I tried an Internet mailing list on another favourite, Andy Griffith (I also have an essay outlined on the characters in that show!), and found that some "internet troll" had used the fact that most characters were unmarried to develop the thought that the show was a protest against homophobia. (...Andy Griffith as social commentary?! Heavens, who'd have dreamt that Gomer Pyle was NOT in a peace time army?)
Blushing to admit this, and for all their bad taste in some ways, I wish I could unwind tonight with Hogan's Heroes, the Flying Nun, Hazel, or (suddenly jumping into the 1990s) the brilliant "Nothing Sacred." (I just might write my next dissertation on that last...)
Now, here is a trivia question I doubt anyone could answer - but tell me I'm not crazy. Didn't the same actor immortalized as Dobie Gillis's father star in a dramatic show entitled "Twelve Daughters"? I still picture him in his wheel chair after he was hit by a car in one episode.. (And I'm someone who DESPISES when comedy shows have "very special episodes"... I want relaxation and entertainment, not sermons about breast cancer awareness, brain tumors, and drunk driving when I watch a sitcom.)
Warm regards
- Elizabeth G. Melillo, PhD - "Gloriana"
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