Somewhere in the Ether

{Prompt: What television programs did you watch in your childhood?}

Broadcast Television

In the sixties, we had exactly four TV channels on our TV set. Well… that’s not exactly right. We had a channel knob with about 13 channels, but only four of the channels had an actual broadcast.  The other 9 channels were grayscale versions of two-dimensional static.  I think that we got TV broadcasts on channels 2, 4, 5, and 13. Channel 4 was WUNC; the PBS station. Channel 13 was NBC; and the other two were WRAL and WRDU, the ABC and CBS channels. At some point WRAL changed their network affiliation, but that’s another story.

Some time in the seventies or eighties, it became possible to get a cable attachment, and then you could get 25 to 50 channels.  I don’t know how many there were exactly, but there were so, so many, that you couldn’t remember which channel was which any more.  Newspapers started publishing daily TV channel program guides, and the “TV Guide” digest was in its heyday.

Now we had more interesting TV static, because some R-rated channels, like HBO and Showtime, were intentionally scrambled to keep the little ones safe from profanity and nudity and adult content.  However… if you were lucky… and you adjusted the antennae just right, you could sort of make out the moving pictures within the static, and you could hear the dialogue.  But I digress.

When I was Very Young

Some of the most inspiring TV of my young existence occurred during the race for the moon. We all watched and listened on Christmas Day in 1968 as the crew of Apollo 8 — Frank Borman, Jim Lovell, and Bill Anders — circled the moon, reading from the book of Genesis. It was an unforgettable moment. I was only four.

A photo of the “Earthrise” — William Anders, Dec. 24, 1968.

I was five; six and a half months later, when Neil Armstrong took the first step on the moon, proclaiming it “one small step for man… one giant leap for mankind.” Just for a moment, the whole country was united by wonder and pride.

Neil Armstrong’s footprint on the moon—July 20, 1969

That feeling of pride and solidarity faded, with the U.S. entrenchment in combat in Vietnam. Though the conflict and the counterculture movement were graphically filmed and featured on the nightly news, my brother and I were quietly discouraged from watching that television content. We probably would have had too many questions — questions that would have been hard to answer.

Instead, we watched shows on PBS, and we watched the Saturday morning cartoons.  I would watch Sesame Street, which was “brought to you”, that day, by the letter “P” and the number “4”, or some similar combination.  The Muppets started appearing on Sesame Street in 1969, when I was five, and they became so popular that there were spin-offs — a prime time Muppet Show (from 1976 to 1981) and several Muppet movies.

Kermit singing Rainbow Connection in the first Muppet Movie.

I watched Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood often, each show starting with a rendition of It’s A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, as Fred Rogers removed his jacket and his church shoes, putting on a sweater and some slippers. Looking back, I realize that I learned (and accepted on faith) so much about the world from Mr. Rogers — about the essential worthiness of all people, and the essential goodness of mankind — that it is practically a fundamental part of my character today.

At the time, I acquired a stuffed animal that was Daniel the Tiger. Daniel, on the show, was essentially an avatar for the scared child in each of the preschool viewers, and he helped to dissipate the fear each child had from witnessing the world of adults. My stuffed tiger, created, curled up in a circle, was so loved, that he was smushed nearly as flat as a pancake by the time I entered kindergarten. I had all but forgotten his television origins when I donated him to Goodwill thirty years later.

Mister Rogers and Daniel, the tiger.

On Saturday morning TV, we had all the Hanna Barbera cartoons (too numerous to list), the Looney Tunes, and Scooby Doo, to name a few.  At some point in the 70s, the cartoons were augmented with little infomercials by “School House Rock”. These tunes were widely disseminated, quickly memorized, and often regurgitated at the lunch break or free play at elementary school.  (I’m Just a Bill and Conjunction Junction being the classics.)  I could quote the preamble to the Constitution thanks to these little music videos. Possibly this was my first exposure to the power of pop culture.

Two beloved characters from Schoolhouse Rock.

The Age of Great Opening Title Sequences

Cartoons were also available after school on the weekdays. I’m pretty sure that The Flintstones and The Jetsons were on in the early afternoon. (I just had to get mom to turn off Julia Child or the Galloping Gourmet, and let me have the TV.  There was only one TV, you know.) The cartoons led into some equally cartoonish family shows, like Gilligan’s Island and the Brady Bunch.  Those title songs will be stuck in my head until I croak! I guess a good opening was the key to capturing audience share in the 70s. Maybe this is where my love of opening credit shots began.

“Just sit right back and you’ll hear a tale…”

As I grew older I preferred more masculine adventures like the Wild Wild West and Star Trek.  On the Wild Wild West, Jim and Artemus (yes, Artemus) would routinely find themselves held hostage and in really deep doo-doo, and that’s exactly when the image on the screen was “captured” and added to the title shot just before the commercial break. After the ad break, Jim or Artemis would come up with some clever trick, or use a hidden piece of gadgetry to extricate themselves from danger.  Cue another commercial break. And then there would be a nice epilogue, in which they give themselves a pat on the back for a job well done, and President Ulysses Grant would send them off to another adventure.

Screengrab of a part of the opening for The Wild Wild West

The original Star Trek was fantastic theater, with the impetuous but clever Captain Kirk; the logical half-Vulcan, Mr. Spock; and the perpetually exasperated but faithful, Doctor McCoy.  The special effects were campy, by today’s standards, but the real drama was the character development (within the constraints of their various prototypes) and the interpersonal dynamics.  The plot and the effects were somewhat secondary. Although… there probably is no better opening theme and monologue ever, in TV history, then the opening audio track of Star Trek.

You always could depend on a few things from the original series: The characters getting into a jam, and then out of it again. An ensign with a red shirt, unfortunately, lost, before the crew became aware of their peril. Scotty pushing the dilithium crystals to the limit. Phasers or shields lost during deep space combat. Monsters popping up where you least expect them. And Spock and Jim locked in a verbal battle over the merits of logic versus instinct.

“…To boldly go where no man has gone before.”

In the evenings, we would often watch TV shows as a family. Remember, there was only one TV.  So we usually had to agree on something that everyone could enjoy.  Some of the most memorable were Room 222, The Flying Nun, Mission: Impossible, and All in the Family. My dad loved to watch The Rockford Files with James Garner — a tough but perpetually abused and misused private eye. He was usually getting the short end of the stick, even when he solved the case. My mom loved to watch The Mary Tyler Moore Show and The Bob Newhart Show, back to back — dry comedies with ensemble casts.

Just before the group hug in the season finale.

There were also some procedural dramas that would alternate within the same time slot — McCloud, Columbo, and McMillan & Wife. All three were about various characters — one with a cowboy hat, one with a trench coat, and one with his wife — who were a lot smarter than they appeared.

Sunday evening was the night for us to enjoy Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom, The Undersea World of Jacques Cousteau, and The Wonderful World of Disney.  We would all gather to watch shows inspired by the environmental movement, and than one or two hours of pure fantasy. I always loved to hear… and watch… Jiminy Cricket singing When You Wish Upon a Star. I guess that’s why I’m the eternal optimist, today.

Tinkerbell, opening The Wonderful World of Disney

Back then, there were still Westerns, like Ponderosa and Big Valley (which made me a fan of Barbara Stanwyck) — shows that had conflict, dialogue, and conflict resolution. There were other “wholesome” family dramas, with less life threatening conflicts, like Little House on the Prairie and the Waltons, and yes, I think we saw every episode.

Changing Times

Networks didn’t realize, initially, that they could air a rerun and people would watch it.  Early on, TV series had a new show practically every week and no reruns.  I don’t know when, but maybe around the time that cable channels started competing for viewers, the shows started airing reruns. Gradually, the number of new episodes per season began to shrink.

Nielsen ratings were a thing back then, too. They were gathered from a sampling of American viewers to determine the ranking of the various shows. I think that our family was chosen, once, to complete the form for the Nielsen ratings, and we took our viewing responsibilities seriously. We carefully completed, in pencil, the ledger of the shows that we watched, and returned it in the self-addressed, sealed envelope. It was on a par with the completion of the US census form.

Back in those days, people worried that children (and parents) would become addicted to TV, that TV would destroy the fabric of society, and that violence on TV would lead to unfettered and unhinged violence in the young and susceptible viewers.  They had all the same fears that we have about the internet today.  I can’t say that they were wrong, but for all the mindless TV and the morally bankrupt programming, I can think of an equal number of shows at the other end of the spectrum — compelling and life affirming — such as One Day at a Time, Good Times, and M*A*S*H.

Naturally TV has evolved. Cable TV allowed an increase in sports-related and political programming.  Pay-per-view and cable accounts allowed increased adult-themed programming (both good and bad).  

Flat screen technology allowed huge TVs to dominate, and even usurp the hearth and fireplace in the living room.  MTV changed the entire musical landscape, and reality TV made “real people” the focus.

Now we find ourselves in a transition to streaming services, and the changing boundaries of our viewing domain are a source of consternation and ire. We can bond in our shared angst and confusion, but we can also talk, with our friends and family, about what we’ve discovered, somewhere in the ether that excites and touches us—that makes us think—that makes us imagine another world.  Just like those shows we saw when we were kids.