As a child I was a television addict. There was no “I Love Lucy”, “I Dream of
Jeannie” or “Little Rascal” rerun that I didn’t watch. Summer
Time and the TV was easy….
My parents were not financially set enough nor insightful enough to compulsively
plan day camps, internships, sleep away camps or classes for us. My urban neighborhood was my camp and
don’t come home until the street lamps were lit.
One of those shows was The Gong Show- an outrageous,
slapstick of a contest where contestants vied for ridiculous prizes. Hosted by Chuck Barris, a dry, short
ethnic guy who was the antithesis of the plastic Mitt Romney –type TV game show
hosts.
Whenever my Mother saw us watching that show she would yell,
“Get that crap off.” “I don’t want you to watch that.” “He’s dirty.” “I don’t get this.” You knew she was serious when she would get up ( no remote in those days), leaving the ever present burning cigarette behind, and physically turn off the TV.
It was one of those things that you knew would irk your
mother so you did it anyway. There
were many things in my armamentarium and The Gong Show was just one.
But what I did to circumvent her was a valuable lesson in
growing up. She was my obstacle in
watching something I really thought was funny.
I simply went upstairs to watch it in my sister’s room.
No harm no foul.
My mom was not always right. An early lesson for an adolescent.
Children need to disobey their parents. In a way, parents want them too. In small steps. Baby steps. When there is still a safety net. Children need to know they
can step out of bounds and still play the game safely.
Some would argue vehemently that The Gong Show was
obscene. Morally corrupt.
I though it was just funny. Even the episode when Jaye P. Morgan pulled up her
shirt. Your couldn’t get more
outrageous on 1970’s daytime TV than that.
But I survived.
Laughed. Mimicked Gene Gene
the Dancing Machine. Made a paper bag to ape the Unknown Comic. Did “The Worm.”
But then turned the TV off and went outside to catch butterflies with my best
friend Melanie.
It was just TV.
Rest in peace Gene
Patton. You are the Dancing Machine. Thank you for reminding me
NGC. And please take a lesson from
this AHB. But baby steps, please. You will always have a safety net if you ask, but sometimes you have to ask. I am not always a mind reader.
No comments:
Post a Comment