Yes, I am going to post an excerpt from The Price is Right, but I couldn’t resist. The compilation of Taylor’s success on daytime television’s long-running staple almost makes we want to watch game shows… almost.
Kevin Spacey has always seemed a gifted actor to me, but in this clip you can see that he is naturally funny and quick too.
Now that I have a child of my own, I’ve been thinking about the TV shows I watched when I was growing up in the late 70s in the early 80s. In spare moments, I’ve been surfing the depth of the Internet looking for information on the shows that kept me company as a little kid. Everyone remembers Sesame Street, The Electric Company and Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood as sources of high quality live-action entertainment for kiddies. And who didn’t watched Super Friends and all the classic cartoons that ran in a perpetual loop for decades. But I have been on the hunt for the not-so-well-remembered. After finding some clips on YouTube, I have to say that the 70s were bizarre. Some of the crap produced for kids during that confused decade makes me wonder how the youth of my generation grew up to be half-way normal.
The strangest of the bunch were the live-action shows produced by Sid and Marty Krofft. I think it is safe to say that the Kroffts were troubled men. While all of their shows were bizarre, some were just plain terrifying. Their contribution to 70s culture included classics like HR Pufnstuff, Land of the Lost and Sigmund and the Sea Monster. They also produced cute, but odd, shows like Wonderbug, The Lost Saucer and other Saturday morning staples. Not be to outdone, others prepared flashy live-action programming. The Banana Splits (with costumes made by Kroffts), the New Zoo Revue and the Great Space Coaster being among the ones that I remember.
My truly fond memories of early childhood television were the cartoon space adventures. After being exposed to Star Wars when I was around four years old, my appointment television became Japanese imports like Battle of the Planets and Star Blazers. These shows had it all: grand adventure, sci fi plots and big battle scenes. Star Blazers really stands out in my memory because it was the first serialized show I remember following carefully. Every episode built on the story before it. It was a grown up story told for children.
By the time I was nine or ten I fell into G.I. Joe, Transformers and Voltron. After that, even I became too old to watch cartoons. I do recall liking Kids Incorporated, but I’m embarrassed to admit watching an early tween show. (However, check out this link to see a very young Jennifer Love Hewitt perform a Peter Gabriel classic, or this link to see an equally young Stacey Ferguson–Fergie from the Black Eye Peas–sing some Elvis.)
Thanks to YouTube and several fan sites, I’ve enjoyed rekindling some distant childhood memories that reminded me how I passed the time after a hard day in daycare and elementary school.
I’ve been playing around with the slick Silverlight-powered Olympic video feeds found on NBC’s official Olympic webpage. The technology is great, and the video quality is really amazing, but what has struck me is how spoiled I’ve become. Anyone who embraces technology is now accustomed to being able to watch, listen to or access just about anything at anytime.
This new Olympic video service is nice because you can play director and watch several different feeds simultaneously. Also, you are watching the raw material before Bob Costas has made it emotionally meaningful with his heartfelt narration. Blow the image up to full-size and its just as good as what you’d see on a standard definition TV (maybe better). Once I started playing with this service, I realized that this is just one of a growing number of technology-provided enhancements that puts me, the user, in control.
Thanks to my DVR, I really couldn’t care less what time any television show is scheduled to air. As long as my DVR knows that I want to record all the new episodes of some series, I don’t think twice. I know when I’m ready to watch it, it will be waiting for me.
Netflix has been a great way to catch up on old movies, TV series and other obscure entertainment options. Between my Netflix queue, my DVR and what I can rent or purchase from my AppleTV, I can’t imagine being frustrated with my entertainment options. If it was produced in the last 70 years, chances are I can get it with a few clicks.
On the audio side, I remember having to listen to hours of crap on the radio in the hope that they might play something I like. Honestly, I can’t remember the last time I listened to music broadcast over commercial radio. Radio stations are still great for news, weather, traffic, but my iPod meets all my other audio needs. Not just music mind you, but podcasts and audiobooks provide me with hours of listening pleasure. Speaking of audiobooks, say you want to go for a walk, work in the yard, go to the gym, run errands, etc., in the past you couldn’t very well read during your busy work, but stick in your earbuds and, if you can find it at Audible.com, you can listen to just about any book anytime.
I guess I’m now so spoiled that I don’t think I can go back to an analog-only world. If I did, I would have to quit cold turkey and live in a cabin in the woods. Come to think of it, that actually sounds kind of nice.
I used to scoff at people who watched mind-numbing television. I thought it was, like sweatpants, something enjoyed by people who had given up on life. I pitied folks who watched the same inane sitcoms over and over again, spent hours entertained by the Weather Channel or shied away from anything resembling true drama with hints of significance. I figured they didn’t have the sophistication to appreciate meaningful dialog or symbolism. I was wrong.
I consider myself a fairly well read, reasonably intelligent person, educated in the liberal arts. That being said, I now find myself just wanting to watch the most simplistic things I can find on television. I’m not interested in figuring out hidden motivations or untangle dangerous thrillers; I just want to watch something that entertains me and ends happily.
Many cable TV channels, such as HGTV and the like, suit me just fine right now. You watch some family take on a remodel or new home purchase, they carefully explain each step and thought process, and in half an hour they are sitting in their lovely new living room enjoying their new lives. What could be happier. There is just a hint of drama–will the husband and wife agree with on the paint colors or the flower boxes–but otherwise you know you’re in for a tranquil experience. The funny thing is, I justify watching these shows for their educational benefit–perhaps I’ll learn something we can utilize in our own home–but now I’m not fooled.
I know that with the many things going on in my life, I’m just not in the mood to watch talented actors play their craft and take me on some meaningful journey through heart and mind. My heart and mind are beat and they just want to be left alone.
Yes, I realize this is simply the latest step in my downward spiral into yuppiedom. I’m promising myself that once my infant daughter is in high school I’ll re-engage in the world of ideas.
One of the benefits of HD television is the fact that it is breathing new life into old TV shows. With cable and DBS companies looking for ways to add more channels–and specifically more HD channels–to our increasingly lengthy channel lineups, TV shows that have even been lost from syndication are reappearing.
Recently, I’ve enjoyed becoming reacquainted with Northern Exposure. This smart and unique show has an interesting element that sets the tone for each episode. “Chris in the Morning,” the local town DJ, shares poetic and philosophical insights that tie the everyday events of Cicely, Alaska to the eternally significant. The fact that he is speaking to the largely uneducated folk of rural Alaska not withstanding.
This TV element, non-narrator narration, was a new device in the 1990s, but I think this style became a subliminal inspiration for modern-day blogs.
Who doesn’t want to have the poignantly inquisitive mind of a Carrie Bradshaw or the deep philosophical underpinnings of a Chris Stephens. They ground their TV episodes in something significant. We all want to understand the fundamental elements that add gravity to our lives. Our random thoughts must simply be orbiting the deeper meanings we know must be down there somewhere.
Maybe that style of narration, and the mass-adopted personal blog, are simply manifestations of our desire to reveal the significant foundations of the unfolding story. While the narrator serves as the cornerstone to his story, so to can our blog posts serve as insightful testaments to where we are in our personal story at critical points in the tale.