Raised by a black and white Zenith
Growing up we had a black and white Zenith TV Set. My parents took me with them to by it at G. Fox & Co., a huge store outside of New Orleans built on top of a huge swamp in Metarie, La. It was the year the Beatles song "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" was a hit.
I also got a bag of stale popcorn, that day, as well. It tasted heavenly and came in a long white bag sporting a clown's face soaked with tiny oil spots. Usually we passed that popcorn booth in the entrance but never got any. That day I got my popcorn which was a tip off that things were about to change in my life, big time.
In any event, I loved that TV.
It wasn't much. It only got a total of about 5 grainy channels which aired old re-runs till the evening news came on, but I loved my Zenith. I don't care what other parents say, I could never, despite how much I love Tim Robbins for yelling at the Big Boys about shoddy TV programming, but I could never deny my kids their favorite TV shows. After all, I know how much my shows meant to me.
Look, every day I looked forward to my post-school TV line up. "The Lucille Ball Show," "Perry Mason," "Mr. Magoo" and a really low budget cable "science show" for kids. ("Ranger Rick?")
Oh, and "Lassie." ("Featuring June Lockheart") Lassie broke my heart every single week. Timmy was the luckiest kid in the world to have a dog like that.
I wanted it all. His dog; his flannel lined dungarees; his father's cool pick-up truck and a mom who knew how to do it all: Except work a phone. Apparently she used a phone that appears to be a dixie-cup wired to a a wooden box in the kitchen. Good thing they never needed 911.
In any event, this (watching lots of black and white TV) is what I did instead of homework; I watched TV reruns which, if you know me, you'll understand pretty much explains a lot.
There were some shows I absolutely detested for no good reason other than being absolutely so banal they were just plain disturbing.
("Gilligan's Island" would have to be top of that list. Followed by maybe "The Brady Bunch.")
And I think I need to attribute my early love of "Film Noir" to having watched so many old Perry Mason shows. They always had some gorgeous, yet entirely B-list actresses wearing fabulous vintage clothes shot in moody old-hollywood settings. The bad guy almost always lost, and Perry always was right, again. Against all odds. I loved that. There were lots of scenes with banana trees in silhouette and mid century furniture. Thus begineth my love of over the top morality theater and buying 40's dresses at Goodwill.
But, I would have to say that one of my most favorite shows of all time, well, okay, late sixties/early seventies - was without a doubt "The Mod Squad."
I don't get it. A whole generation watched The Mod Squad, but now sits around wondering what to do about Bush and Iraq?
What would Julie, Pete and Linc think? I loved all three of them, except that scary "Captain" guy who looked both mean and "straight" (aka: boring) which was a deadly combination in the Sixties.
I secretly wished the fabulous 3 would kidnap me from perils of elementary school and hold me hostage in basement a University taken over by angry war protesters. I could be the "Jr. Mod" one. "Mod kid." As if. Pass the Bugles, please.
True Story:
One day, in the eighties, I was walking down Amsterdam Avenue and glanced up just in time to catch a very familiar face just passing out of view.
I gasped and called out: "Oh, my God! -- Linc!"
There was a bit of an awkward silence and, astonishingly, there he was with his trademark deadpan stare.
At that moment, all normal words suddenly evaporated inside my skull.
Brilliantly, I carried on.
"Oh, I...Hi. I'm, uhm...not Julie...Yeah. Uhm. ha."
Then we both turned and kept walking.
What I wouldn't have paid right then to change that to "Hey, aren't-you-Clarence-Williams-III?"
I also got a bag of stale popcorn, that day, as well. It tasted heavenly and came in a long white bag sporting a clown's face soaked with tiny oil spots. Usually we passed that popcorn booth in the entrance but never got any. That day I got my popcorn which was a tip off that things were about to change in my life, big time.
In any event, I loved that TV.
It wasn't much. It only got a total of about 5 grainy channels which aired old re-runs till the evening news came on, but I loved my Zenith. I don't care what other parents say, I could never, despite how much I love Tim Robbins for yelling at the Big Boys about shoddy TV programming, but I could never deny my kids their favorite TV shows. After all, I know how much my shows meant to me.
Look, every day I looked forward to my post-school TV line up. "The Lucille Ball Show," "Perry Mason," "Mr. Magoo" and a really low budget cable "science show" for kids. ("Ranger Rick?")
Oh, and "Lassie." ("Featuring June Lockheart") Lassie broke my heart every single week. Timmy was the luckiest kid in the world to have a dog like that.
I wanted it all. His dog; his flannel lined dungarees; his father's cool pick-up truck and a mom who knew how to do it all: Except work a phone. Apparently she used a phone that appears to be a dixie-cup wired to a a wooden box in the kitchen. Good thing they never needed 911.
In any event, this (watching lots of black and white TV) is what I did instead of homework; I watched TV reruns which, if you know me, you'll understand pretty much explains a lot.
There were some shows I absolutely detested for no good reason other than being absolutely so banal they were just plain disturbing.
("Gilligan's Island" would have to be top of that list. Followed by maybe "The Brady Bunch.")
And I think I need to attribute my early love of "Film Noir" to having watched so many old Perry Mason shows. They always had some gorgeous, yet entirely B-list actresses wearing fabulous vintage clothes shot in moody old-hollywood settings. The bad guy almost always lost, and Perry always was right, again. Against all odds. I loved that. There were lots of scenes with banana trees in silhouette and mid century furniture. Thus begineth my love of over the top morality theater and buying 40's dresses at Goodwill.
But, I would have to say that one of my most favorite shows of all time, well, okay, late sixties/early seventies - was without a doubt "The Mod Squad."
I don't get it. A whole generation watched The Mod Squad, but now sits around wondering what to do about Bush and Iraq?
What would Julie, Pete and Linc think? I loved all three of them, except that scary "Captain" guy who looked both mean and "straight" (aka: boring) which was a deadly combination in the Sixties.
I secretly wished the fabulous 3 would kidnap me from perils of elementary school and hold me hostage in basement a University taken over by angry war protesters. I could be the "Jr. Mod" one. "Mod kid." As if. Pass the Bugles, please.
True Story:
One day, in the eighties, I was walking down Amsterdam Avenue and glanced up just in time to catch a very familiar face just passing out of view.
I gasped and called out: "Oh, my God! -- Linc!"
There was a bit of an awkward silence and, astonishingly, there he was with his trademark deadpan stare.
At that moment, all normal words suddenly evaporated inside my skull.
Brilliantly, I carried on.
"Oh, I...Hi. I'm, uhm...not Julie...Yeah. Uhm. ha."
Then we both turned and kept walking.
What I wouldn't have paid right then to change that to "Hey, aren't-you-Clarence-Williams-III?"
Comments