Kid’s Shows

Now that the Boomers are getting all weepy eyed about our childhood hero’s that came to us in a box with a black and white fuzzy window. We could hear them but they could hear us.

It took some time for the tubes to heat up and clear an image as through a fog. Though the box was a huge piece of furniture, the sound came from a tiny speaker and the volume didn’t go to 11.

These were our baby sitters. Mom and dad didn’t watch with us because they were doing mom and dad stuff somewhere else. Give us a bowl of cereal and we would just sit and watch for hours; eyes glued to the limited action on screen.

We didn’t know any of these people. They were not in our schools. They didn’t go to church with us, but they all somewhat seemed familiar. Everyone was good natured and trusting. We were growing up in the Fantasy Fifties.

There where clowns and farmers and some women who seemed like a distant aunt you stayed away from at family gatherings so you wouldn’t get you cheek pinched. There was a buckskin guy with a puppet and a sailor with a puppet. Seems there were a lot of puppets around back then.

Disney, who taught us classical music to cartoons, had a group of kids (just like us) who you wanted to be a part of. It was a Mouse Club and you got to wear mouse ears. They were not worn outside the house but when the Mouse Club came on, so did the ears. Everyone sing along.

 We gradually move onto reflections of daily life like “Father knows best” and “Leave it to Beaver”. “Ozzie & Harriett” was a favorite being about the same ages as David and Ricky and mom and dad knew their mom and dad from the ole music days. Still it was just white-bread suburban commercialism television.

There was no remote to mute the messages to buy a new refrigerator or sugar covered cereal. With only three channels, there was no need to surf because each had the same content at the same time. They all ended at midnight to the Star Spangle banner. Did we stand up?

Desegregation was still buried in the back papers of the newspaper, so the only indication of another population living among us was “Amos and Andy” and variety shows with Nat King Cole or Sammy Davis Jr. Chuck Berry, Fats Domino, Muddy Waters and Howling Wolf could only be found on late night shortwave radio.

Years would pass and television realized their audience was more sensitive to the young minds watching news clips of soldiers in foreign rice paddies and leaders of our nation warning us about nuclear annihilation. No wonder monster films became so popular.

Now the airwaves are full of high tech productions for young eyes to take in the calming messages that Mrs. Frances and Mr. Rogers tried to tell when they are not playing destructive video games. Will fluffy puppets convince you to not throw trash out your car window on the way to grandma’s house for Thanksgiving?