Nostalgia, DVDs, old movies, television, OTR, fandom, good news and bad, picks, pans, cute budgie stories, cute terrier stories, and anything else I can think of. Contact me at theyoungfamily (at) earthlink (dot) net . . . . . . . . . .
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» Sunday, March 13, 2005
86'd At Age 9
My mom was a great stickler for early bedtimes for kids, which explained why at age eight I was in bed long before 8:30--but I was a night owl always and still awake. Our house was small--four rooms and a bath, my room off the kitchen--and if the TV wasn't on quite low enough I could still hear the dialog faintly since I slept with the door open. Which is why I scrambled out of bed and trotted into the living room and asked, "Who was that talking? It sounded like Tennessee Tuxedo." "It's Don Adams," my mom said. "Now go back to bed." At that time Adams was a regular on The Bill Dana Show as Byron Glick, the house detective (and also the voice of cartoon penguin "Tennessee Tuxedo"). I tucked away the name for future reference and noticed it again in the Fall Preview TV Guide for 1965, as the star of a comedy spy series. It was the beginning of a long love affair between me and Get Smart. Since there was only one television, ably managed by the adults in the household, and Dad thought Smart was...well...stupid, I managed to watch the show during the original run through a twist of fate: we weren't home on Saturday nights. That was the night my mom and dad went duckpin bowling and I went along, too, occasionally to Legion Bowladrome (which was still there the last time I drove by it) or to Town Hall Lanes on Atwood Avenue, but mostly to the Garden City Lanes, run by the Zarella brothers, Tom and his brother Ray. They started out in a smaller place, but eventually the bowling business was so good they built a huge, 36-lane building on Sockanossett Road on the outside edge of Garden City Shopping Center. (I used to wish for a bookstore the size of Garden City Lanes. The bowling craze of the 60s eventually waned. Garden City Lanes is gone and the lot occupied by a strip mall.) It had a snack bar with live attendants instead of machines, a jukebox, a billiards room and two roomy bathrooms; when I was really bored I would go in the ladies' room and act out adventure stories between "customers." My dad was friends with everyone, so it was no trouble to go up to Tom or Ray or whomever else was manning the desk that night, Vinny or Bobby or Teddy, and ask them if they could change the channel of the TV behind the desk at 8:30 so I could watch Get Smart. I'd stand at the counter for the entire half hour, out of the way of the customers as much as I could, hands on my fists, eyes glued to the adventures of Max and 99. The only nights there were trouble was when the Providence College Friars had a big game. I learned to loathe basketball very early on! :-) But syndication was my real friend. I was into all things Smart from magazine articles (remember TV Radio Mirror, Modern Screen, Photoplay and all the other great movie and TV magazines? Heck, remember when TV Guide actually had good articles?) to the nine original novels by William Johnston published in paperback by Tempo Books. There are rumblings of a Get Smart DVD release, but not wanting to take any chances, I was dubbing off some of those I had kept from the Nick at Nite run last night. They annoy me because not only are they time-compressed slightly (the opening theme sounds a bit like a wind-up toy) but they are still the syndication copies with bits very expertly edited out; I know they're gone because I have the originals of my favorites practically memorized. But some Get Smart is always better than none. I watched ten of them, one after the other, with as much delight as I had forty years ago--and can't believe I didn't record some other favorites, like "Ship of Spies" and the first Harry Hoo story. Here's what ran tonight: Coming up: Get Smart's take on D.O.A. and The Fugitive, Max and 99 join a motorcycle gang, and the inevitable happens in the form of a ring and a vow... You know, I just realized, of all the stories I kept, not one of them has Seigfried in it? |