The Psychology Behind Classic TV Viewing

I was perusing YouTube recently (a more enjoyable exercise than perusing network television these days), and I came across a video with 1.6 million views called “The Psychology of People Who Rewatch the Same Shows and Movies.” It was posted by “SketchPsyche,” which purports to be a channel that provides “deep dives into the psychology behind everyday behavior.”

“We live in a world obsessed with what’s new,” the video relates. “But some people just ignore it all.” Something in our psyche pushes us to choose the vintage over the contemporary: “They know every line, ever scene, every joke and yet they press play again.”

The video, just under six minutes, offers four descriptions of people who would rather rewatch The Fugitive for the 50th time than check out The Pitt. Can you see Dr. Bob Hartley sharing these insights with his therapy group?

Type One: The Comfort Seeker
We are told that for these people life feels unpredictable because of work problems and relationship issues and a world that’s changing too quickly. They watch old shows because they are predictable – they know the crisis in that episode will be resolved and everything will be okay. The certainty of that serves the emotional safety they seek.

There’s some merit to this, though seeking comfort in the familiar is hardly new or limited to television. I’m semi-retired now, but when I was working full-time, I often took solace in activity that I knew would reduce my stress level. For some that’s listening to Brahms, for others reading the Bible, and for others an evening spent with Lucy or Jeannie or Marshal Matt Dillon.

Type Two: The Cognitive Restorer
People in this category have exceptionally stressful jobs that require a lot of thought and problem solving. As a result, their brains are not up to the challenge of grasping new shows with new characters and stories. Familiar material allows the brain to relax and experience what psychologists call cognitive load reduction.

This is so closely related to the previous category that I’m not sure it needs its own designation. Once again, the objective is to reduce real-world stress through a recreational activity that is guaranteed to not cause anxiety.

Type Three: The Nostalgic Anchor
In this group are people who rewatch shows not as much for the show itself, but for the memories they attach to it. It reminds them of a better time in their life, and friends and family members who may now be gone. They can’t bring those moments back, but they can experience once again the shows that were a part of those moments.

If I had to put myself into one of these four categories, this is the one that is most applicable. I do watch my favorite classics repeatedly because I genuinely enjoy them, but there is also within that experience a subconscious recognition of what my life was like when those shows were new, and how it is much different now. That perception has intensified in recent years from a series of major life changes, but it was there even before those events transpired.

I also think for me it’s not just an association with personal memories and relationships that is fed by classic shows – but also a chance to reconnect through these shows to an America that no longer exists. Not one free from challenges or tragedies, as there has never been such a place. But through all we endured in generations past there remained a bedrock that not only sustained but helped us get through such turbulent times. That bedrock is in jeopardy now from a systematic dismantling of western culture by enemies both foreign and domestic.

Not everyone shares that view, I know, but for those that do, we like our virtual visits to Minneapolis when Ted Baxter was delivering the news on WJM, and prefer them to what’s transpiring there now.

Type Four: The Detail Hunter
These are the people that enjoy uncovering small details and hidden layers that only can be discovered through repeat viewings. “For them,” we’re told, “a show isn’t just a story, it’s a world, and they want to see every corner of it.”

While it’s always fun to notice something in a favorite show that we had not noticed before, this one is not applicable to me. How about you?

There is one other reason I still prefer comfort TV to what’s new. I find these shows and their characters to be inspiring, and helpful in keeping me on the right path in this life. Such lessons originate from my religious faith, but it’s nice to see them validated in a more modern setting than 1st century Judea.

The good news from all this, according to SketchPsyche, is that there is nothing wrong with people who stick with the classics. “They’re not stuck in the past,” the video says. “They’re choosing what their mind needs.” And if classic TV shows really provide emotional security, reduce stress, and convey a reminder of happier times, my only question is “Why isn’t everyone doing this?”

The Twilight Zone, Season Four: 3 Classics and 3 Wasted Trips

It has taken me a while to get back to season reviews of The Twilight Zone, mostly because I was reluctant to start season four knowing that this is when the series switched from 30-minute to 60-minute shows. It is not a coincidence that this is its least heralded season, so even with just 18 episodes I anticipated a difficult slog.

Thankfully, the journey was not as arduous as I expected. Yes, the story padding is sometimes evident, and some of the show’s themes are becoming repetitive (longing for the past, deals with the devil, etc.). But overall, this was a season that, like its predecessors, delivered more good than bad stories, and even some of the lesser entries were redeemed by one or more memorable performances.

Just as a refresher: the reason I’m doing these reviews is that, familiar as I’ve been with The Twilight Zone, I’ve never owned the series or experienced all the episodes in order in their entirety. Since the hour-long shows have been rarely syndicated, all these episodes were new to me.

The Three Best

The Thirty Fathom Grave
This was my clear favorite. A US Navy destroyer in the South Pacific detects the remains of a World War II-era submarine at the bottom of the ocean. Which wouldn’t be all that strange were it not for the sound of hammering against metal coming from within. What could be the cause? And could it be connected to one of the ship’s officers having a sudden nervous breakdown?

“The Thirty Fathom Grave” plays like one of those classic little ‘B’ movies you might stumble across on TCM late at night, that pulls you in to see where it goes.

Valley of the Shadow
The Twilight Zone was of two minds when it came to quiet little towns. In the episodes written by Rod Serling they provide sanctuary from a cruel modern world. Other writers like Charles Beaumont had more in common with David Lynch, viewing these idyllic hamlets as places that may hide the most strange and sinister of secrets.

Peaceful Valley, visited by reporter Philip Redfield (Ed Nelson), belongs to the latter camp. 

Stopping to ask for directions, Philip sees a little girl point a device at his dog, causing the dog to disappear. He’s eventually found again, but Philip’s reporter instinct kicks in. He starts investigating and will soon discover that leaving town is not an option no matter how hard he tries.


Jess-Belle
It was a toss-up for the final ‘Best’ spot between this and the atmospheric “Passage on the Lady Anne.” I’m giving this one the edge because it plays like a tragic tale from American folklore passed down through generations. It even comes with its own song:

Fair was Elly Glover
Dark was Jess-Belle
Both, they loved the same man
And both they loved him well

Two Twilight Zone vets, Anne Francis and James Best, play Jess-Belle and Billy-Ben. She loves him, and he kind of likes her but then falls for the beautiful Elly (Laura Devon). A jealous Jess-Belle asks the local witch to make Billy-Ben love her again, but that spell comes with a shocking side effect.

I was not a fan of writer Earl Hamner Jr.’s previous TZ scripts, making this effort an even more pleasant surprise.

Among the honorable mentions: “Printer’s Devil,” with the always-reliable Burgess Meredith helping an editor save his small-town newspaper at the cost of his soul and “He’s Alive,” with Dennis Hopper giving a chilling performance as a neo-nazi leader getting lessons from Hitler and how to spread hatred. 

World War II-vet Rod Serling was often at his most eloquent when condemning the kind of bigotry he once fought against. His closing narration still packs a punch:

“Where will he go next, this phantom of another time, this resurrected ghost of a previous nightmare? Any place, every place, where there’s hate, where’s there’s prejudice, where there’s bigotry, he’s alive. Remember that when he comes to your town. Remember it when you hear his voice speaking out through others. Remember it when you hear a name called, a minority attacked, any blind, unreasoning assault on a people or any human being. He’s alive because through these things we keep him alive.”

And I can’t omit “Of Late I Think of Cliffordsville,” despite it featuring Albert Salmi, an actor I take an instant dislike to every time I see him. It’s worth watching just for Julie Newmar as the devil tempting him into an unholy bargain. Outside of Catwoman it’s the best performance I’ve ever seen from her.

The Three Worst

The Incredible World of Horace Ford
Here it is – the single most annoying performance in the distinguished history of this iconic series. Pat Hingle plays toy designer Horace Ford, an exasperating man-child who never got over being 12 years old – so that’s still how he acts. Ten minutes in and I wanted to jump through the screen and give him a wedgie. Most shocking is that this awful episode was written by Reginald Rose, who wrote 12 Angry Men and created The Defenders.

I Dream of Genie
Another reminder of how poorly TZ handled comedy. George Hanley (Howard Morris) is granted one wish by a genie and doesn’t know what to do with it.

No Time Like the Past
We’ve seen this story before – man becomes disillusioned with the present day and yearns to escape into the past. “A Stop at Willoughby” set the standard for such storylines, which were also used in “Walking Distance” and others. This time it just doesn’t work. Paul Driscoll (Dana Andrews) is more ambitious than his fellow time-travelers – he first attempts to kill Adolf Hitler and warn the Japanese about an incoming atom bomb. When that fails, he settles for a quiet life in Homeville, Indiana, circa 1881. But once again his hopes for a better life are dashed.

My Journey Through 1970s TV: Friday Nights, 1977

It's hard to believe that, being this far along in our review of the 1970s prime time schedules, we’d still be uncovering new milestones. But Friday in 1977 was the first night in which not a single program from any network ranked among the top 30 shows for the year.

That means they all had to be losers, right? Not quite, as you’ll see from the titles.

CBS
The New Adventures of Wonder Woman
Logan’s Run
Switch

This was the lineup I was watching, though I was disappointed (and still am) with almost every aspect of Wonder Woman outside of Lynda Carter’s comic book-perfect embodiment of Diana.

When the series returned for this season it ditched World War II-era stories for present day, subtracting another element that made it unique. What did we get instead? Episodes like “The Pied Piper” with Martin Mull as a flute-playing rock god. It’s one of the most pungent slices of ‘70s cheese ever unleashed on an unsuspecting public. But I still bought the DVDs and later the blu-rays, always hoping the series would somehow get better and that Carter would get the showcase she deserved.

Logan’s Run was…okay. An okay adaptation of an okay film best remembered for colorful visuals and its now quaint look at how the ‘70s envisioned the future. And, yes, for a certain scene featuring Jenny Agutter.

The 1976 movie was a hit, but the series owed it existence to Star Wars. After that 1977 film blew up at the box office all three networks began searching for sci-fi. Result? Shows like Fantastic Journey, Space Academy, The Man From Atlantis, Quark, and Future Cop. None of them lasted long and neither did Logan’s Run, which was canceled after just 11 episodes. But I liked it and still do. Gregory Harrison and Heather Menzies were engaging as Logan and Jessica, and episodes like “The Collectors” were memorable because of guest star Angela Cartwright. Where else could you see two Von Trapp kids still looking for sanctuary?

1977 was also the final year for Switch, a wonderful series that never got the credit it deserved. Thankfully, Robert Wagner would return to TV two years later on Hart to Hart, and Sharon Gless would be back in 1982 on Cagney & Lacey.


NBC
Sanford Arms
Chico and the Man
The Rockford Files
Quincy M.E.

Sanford Arms was the last gasp for Sanford & Son following a successful six-season run. A change in setting from junkyard to rundown boarding house did not spark renewed interest, so the series disappeared after just four episodes, to be replaced by Don Rickles in C.P.O. Sharkey – which didn’t fare much better.

You’d think the suicide of Freddie Prinze would have brought an abrupt end to Chico and the Man, but NBC tried to keep it going by saying Chico went back to Mexico, and pairing Ed (Jack Albertson) with a new Hispanic character played by 12-year-old Gabriel Melgar. It didn’t work.

The Rockford Files is one of those show that, like The Brady Bunch, you’d expect to have been highly rated based on its enduring popularity. Surprising that it wasn’t, but that’s not indicative of its quality.

After appearing alongside Columbo and McCloud as a rotating presentation of the NBC Sunday Mystery Movie, Quincy was spun off into its own series, with Jack Klugman as a Los Angeles medical examiner. 

Klugman was one of those actors, like Robert Wagner and James Garner, that had a likability factor well-suited for television – certainly one reason why a series with such a grim premise would run for eight seasons.

ABC
Donny & Marie
The ABC Friday Night Movie

Not much to add here. I thought Donny & Marie was more popular than it apparently was based on ratings. In this, the third in its four-season run, the series moved (over network objections) from Los Angeles to the Osmond Studio in Orem, Utah. I’m not sure if that made it tougher to attract guests, but it may be one reason why only 18 episodes were shot.

Shows Missed:
The Don Knotts Show (1970)
San Francisco International Airport (1970)
Nancy (1970)
The Headmaster (1970)
The Man and the City (1971)
Search (1972)
Assignment: Vienna (1972)
The Delphi Bureau (1972)
Jigsaw (1972)
The Little People (1972)
The Sixth Sense (1972)
Faraday & Company (1973)
Kodiak (1974)
The New Land (1974)
McCoy (1975)
Joe and Sons (1975)
Beacon Hill (1975)
Mobile One (1975)
Big Eddie (1975)
Executive Suite (1976)
Ball Four (1976)
Young Dan’l Boone (1977)
Rafferty (1977)
Mulligan’s Stew (1977)
Big Hawaii (1977)

Charlie's Angels at 50

How many television shows are still fondly remembered after 50 years? Quite a few around here, I know – but among the non-tv obsessed? That thins the herd to a much smaller number. But I think Charlie’s Angels belongs in that company – and apparently so do the folks at The Paley Center for Media, who recently hosted a 50th anniversary celebration of this iconic series at Hollywood’s Dolby Theatre.

I cowrote The Charlie’s Angels Casebook back in 2000 so it’s been a long time since I’ve been in the company of the show’s stars. Was it worth the trip to see Kate Jackson, Jaclyn Smith and Cheryl Ladd together again? I thought so, but after it was over I left the theater with mixed feelings.

Just as an aside – “Hollywood” gets more awful every year. I feel for the tourists, especially those from overseas expecting something glamorous as they stroll the Walk of Fame. And I’d also like a word with whomever scheduled this event on a Monday when Musso & Frank Grill was closed. If the reunion turned sour, at least I’d have had a decent steak to salvage the evening.

There was indeed a chance that things could have gotten tense, as this was likely the first time Kate and Cheryl were in the same room since the series ended. The Casebook detailed their strained relationship, and some of the stories shared were too incendiary to print without risking a lawsuit.

The good news is that it wasn’t acrimonious. But it wasn’t joyful either. The moderator - apparently chosen because he won five Emmys and not because he knew anything about the show - did not do a great job. Some of his questions were silly and merited the polite cold shoulder they received. Any real fan (or anyone who even read the book) could have better focused on where the nostalgic sweet spots were, while avoiding the minefields.

The video clips selected to highlight why the show is worth remembering were poorly chosen. There was no mention of David Doyle, who provided able support throughout the series’ five-season run while Angels kept coming and going.

Shelley Hack and Tanya Roberts were included in the film clips (to appreciative audience applause) but were likewise ignored in the discussion.

Perhaps most disappointing was a lack of warmth among the trio of stars. Questions that should have been easy to answer, if their memories were happy and vivid, received almost no response. There wasn’t much laughter over shared recollections, favorite moments or favorite episodes. Only one episode (“Angels in Chains”) was specifically mentioned, and Cheryl Ladd wasn’t even in that one.

As a result, what should have been a celebration came off more like an obligation among three coworkers who once shared the same office. They were happy with the show’s success but not eager to fully embrace it beyond the opportunities it provided later.

Disappointments were mentioned but not deeply explored or felt – Jaclyn missing out on Moonraker, Cheryl on Family and of course Kate with Kramer vs. Kramer. Maybe I was too close to the real stories to appreciate the PG versions that helped preserve the illusion of a happy production.

That said, there were a couple of memorable moments, such as the discussion about how all three Angels received a breast cancer diagnosis – what are the odds? But here they had something more substantive to talk about than an old TV show, and opened up about fear, and faith, and the importance of early detection and exams.

I also enjoyed Kate Jackson relating how, in 2000, she received a check for the use of her likeness on the hundreds of dolls, toys, games, and other licensed merchandising of Charlie’s Angels. The amount – about 80 bucks.

Fifty years is a long time – a point repeatedly expressed from the stage when the guests of honor were unable to recall a favorite scene or a favorite outfit. But the fanfare for this event and the attention it received is a testament to how deeply this show impacted our popular culture and the television landscape. The reunion garnered headlines in all the trades, magazines, entertainment websites, and was even a featured story on ABC World News Tonight.

This was not a series that was respected, including it would seem by those who were in it. But it was, by whatever measuring stick we use to assess such things, a big deal. And a half-century later it proved that again by drawing a packed theater to pay tribute. The fans – some dressed to the nines, others in Charlie’s Angels t-shirts bearing images that had faded from decades of spin cycles, all seem to have left satisfied.

My happiest memory of the evening was when the Angels first took the stage to a long and loud standing ovation, and that alone almost made it worthwhile.

It’s one thing to know a show delivered huge ratings, it’s another to feel the love from a live audience and to know that, however the cast or critics felt, it was a show that meant something to a lot of people. I’m glad its stars got to experience that. I hope they were too.

Scorning the Scandal Peddlers

You've probably seen or read promos for a new documentary that is gleefully airing all the dirty laundry of The Price is Right from back when it was one of television’s most popular and beloved game shows.

With Bob Barker as host, Johnny Olson as announcer, and a trio of models – Janice Pennington, Dian Parkinson and Holly Hallstrom – viewers came to know and love, that show remains a fond memory for those who grew up with it. Summer mornings, sick days, snow days, we relaxed on the couch watching contestants play games, try to win a car, and guess at the cost of everything from baked beans to Samsonite luggage, all without committing the unpardonable sin of not going over the actual retail price.

When I watch clips from that era they instantly transport me back to happier times. My pulse quickens when a contestant attempts to walk the opulent Golden Road, and I still get angry when the Clock Game is lost because there is no reason to ever lose that game. As a golfer I also loved Hole in One and wished the holes on the courses I play were as oversized as that one.

Most if not all the documentary’s “revelations” had already leaked out years ago – backstage affairs, racism allegations, lawsuits and more lawsuits, with Barker at the center of the turmoil and no longer around to defend himself.

Here is my question: Is it wrong that I really don’t care?

I know that sounds harsh, but I’m being honest. I’m not without sympathy if someone is mistreated at work, but if decades have passed since the supposed transgressions, dredging them up now in documentaries seems more about vengeance than justice, or maybe it’s just about the paycheck.

Uncovering dirt after someone dies is a popular sport these days. And my response after being exposed to such scandals is always the same: Now that I know, what am I supposed to do?

I can’t erase the happy memories. I don’t want to. As I’ve entered my 60s my memories have only grown more precious. I walk through a house full of memories every day. A home that is now empty except for me. The connection I’ve forged with the shows I write about dates back more than half a century. The memories experienced when I watch them again are as fond now as they’ve ever been.

As I wrote in a previous blog, it was the longevity of The Price is Right and this cast that, as it did with soap operas, made the show so special. Janice was pointing at “brand new cars!” when I was 8 years old. She was still doing it when I graduated high school. And she was still doing it when I graduated college, and for more than 10 years after that.

Am I supposed to hate Bob Barker now? How about Michael Landon, Danny Bonaduce, Robert Blake, Roseanne, Darlene Gillespie, James Farentino, Dana Plato…shall I keep going? With some celebrities their sins are paragraph one in any story about them; for others it barely merits a mention. Should I only disown those who acted out of cruelty, and not mental illness or desperation? How would I know which is which?

We’ve had this conversation once before, of course, back in 2015 when I wrote about Bill Cosby. Despite all the accolades that made him one of television’s most influential creators, the legacy of his work has been permanently tarnished. “Good,” some will say. “What a shame,” others lament.

These are issues beyond television, and everyone must decide for themselves where to draw the line. But I think we can all agree that condemnation and banishment come much faster than they used to and cast a much wider net.

Revelations about union activist Cesar Chavez emerged at about the same time as those about Bob Barker – also for things that happened half a century ago. Within days if not minutes, events were canceled and workmen set about removing his name from public spaces. Statues of Christopher Columbus have been toppled. San Francisco tried removing the names of George Washington and Thomas Jefferson from schools because they owned slaves. And Tiger Woods got another DUI last week.

None of us are the sum of all our virtues or the sum of all our sins, no matter how exceptional the virtue or how despicable the sin. But on the great scandal scale, those attached to The Price is Right seem positively benign. Some border on ridiculous. According to one article, “After some models expressed concern about their treatment on the set of The Price Is Right, CBS initiated a 10-second rule where people couldn’t stare at models for longer than 10 seconds.”

Wait – men like to look at beautiful models? Shocking!

We also need to keep in mind that the longer ago the alleged behavior, the fewer people still around to validate the allegations. Luckily, Price is Right producer Roger Dobkowitz is still around. He was there for 36 years, and this was his response to the documentary:

“This so-called “expose” makes me realize that there are some people in this world who will happily exaggerate and create falsehoods in order to justify a personal hateful vendetta against a person in order to draw attention to themselves. Making the situation worse is the fact that the accused is deceased, and therefore, making it impossible for the accused to defend himself. The adjective “brave” should never be used in reference to a person attacking a dead person.

The show was a happy place…our working environment was the envy of other shows. Staff rarely quit...the dozens of women who were in our repertoire of models came back year after year, happy to be on our show. The only unhappy people, as would be found in any company, were the ones that didn't get the raise they wanted, the ones that didn't get the promotion they thought they deserved, and the ones that were terminated for not doing their job.”

I hope he’s right. But regardless I’ve about had my fill of the scandal factories “tearing the lid” off beloved programs and personalities and inviting all of us to share in their disdain. Instead, I’ll follow the guidance found in the Gospel of Luke - “Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven.”

“But what fun is that?” say the bottom feeders at E! behind the Price is Right doc and other explorations of the dark side of television.

Perhaps someday someone will take a closer look at what goes on behind the scenes at E!. Wouldn’t that be something.

My Journey Through 1970s TV: Thursday Nights, 1977

At last, CBS strikes back. After an impressive run of ratings dominance by ABC, CBS bested its rivals with a trio of returning favorites. ABC still managed to place two series in the top 30, and even NBC debuted a new hit, followed by a show that became one of the decade’s favorite punch lines.

Otherwise, to be honest this isn’t the most interesting of nights to reflect upon within my journey through the 1970s. Let’s hope Friday is more exciting.

NBC
CHiPs
The Man from Atlantis
Rosetti & Ryan

For all the jokes that have been made about The Man from Atlantis (many of them originating from its star, Patrick Duffy), NBC had reason to believe there was an audience for this sci-fi adventure.

The character of Mark Harris, with his webbed fingers and toes and his ability to breathe underwater, was introduced in a series of TV movies, all of which drew impressive ratings. But when it became a series it got sillier. In one episode, Mark’s nemesis Mr. Schubert (Victor Buono, grandiose as ever) threatens the earth with a giant jellyfish. In another, Mark is transported via underwater landslide to Italy and meets Romeo and Juliet. The show was canceled after 13 episodes.

The network had better luck with CHiPs, which ran for six seasons thanks mostly to likable leads Larry Wilcox and Eric Estrada as California Highway Patrol officers. Like Emergency! It balanced serious stories with lighter fare, with the occasional glimpse at how our public servants spend their off-hours.

Rosetti & Ryan might have been a hit as well if NBC wasn’t so trigger-happy. This was Tony Roberts’ first attempt at series stardom, and the one I think had the most potential. He and Squire Fridell played law partners with opposite personalities; Roberts, as Joe Rosetti, was something like Arnie Becker on L.A. Law: high-class style, active social life, while Fridell’s Frank Ryan, a former cop, was more focused on a by-the-book approach to each case.

Had NBC not canceled the series after just six episodes, I think it might have found an audience. The two leads worked well together, and the scripts were better than those used in other legal dramas that lasted longer. Fridell would later find a career-defining role as the successor to King Moody in the role of Ronald McDonald, which he played in dozens of commercials from 1984 to 1991.


ABC
Welcome Back Kotter
What’s Happening
Barney Miller
Carter Country
The Redd Foxx Show

Both Welcome Back Kotter (#26) and Barney Miller (#17) still had impressive followings, and What’s Happening benefited from its more successful time slot neighbors on each side.

New to the schedule was Carter Country, set in the small southern town of Clinton Corners. Victor French played the police chief opposite Kene Holliday as the Sergeant Curtis Baker. Baker, who is black and from a big-city, higher-education background, gradually ingratiates himself among the rednecks. Richard Paul as the slick-talking mayor was a natural scene-stealer. It ranked just outside the top 30, enough to merit a second season.

As for The Redd Foxx Show, it deserved some credit for being more experimental with the standard 1970s variety show format. But the genre was just about played out by 1977, and it was gone by Christmas.


CBS
The Waltons
Hawaii Five-O
Barnaby Jones

CBS won the night with the return of three established hits, though all were starting to show their age. Season six of The Waltons (ranked #20) is when viewers began to see less of John-Boy and Grandma. Hawaii Five-O finished its tenth (!) season at #23, and Barnaby Jones (#22) held steady in its sixth season. It would run two more years, but star Buddy Ebsen began cutting back on his schedule, leaving costars Lee Meriwether and Mark Shera to carry more episodes.

Like I said, not that exciting. But at least no shows will be added to the "missed" list below. 

Shows Missed:
The Don Knotts Show (1970)
San Francisco International Airport (1970)
Nancy (1970)
The Headmaster (1970)
The Man and the City (1971)
Search (1972)
Assignment: Vienna (1972)
The Delphi Bureau (1972)
Jigsaw (1972)
The Little People (1972)
The Sixth Sense (1972)
Faraday & Company (1973)
Kodiak (1974)
The New Land (1974)
McCoy (1975)
Joe and Sons (1975)
Beacon Hill (1975)
Mobile One (1975)
Big Eddie (1975)
Executive Suite (1976)
Ball Four (1976)
Young Dan’l Boone (1977)
Rafferty (1977)
Mulligan’s Stew (1977)
Big Hawaii (1977)

The Classic TV Name Drop: An Endangered Species?

If you paid more attention to the recent Winter Olympics than I did, you probably read several stories about Eileen Gu, an Asian American freestyle skier who was born and raised in the United States but opted to compete for China in exchange for cash and prizes.

Several newspaper columnists described what happened when reporters asked her about the Uyghurs in China’s concentration camps and the jailing of journalist Jimmy Lai. They wrote that in those moments Gu “turned into Sgt. Schultz.”

As Steve Rogers said in The Avengers, I understood that reference. I’m sure you did too. But I wonder how many people under 40 were confused: Who is Sgt. Schultz? Does he ski? Is he heading the Joint Chiefs?

Of course, this also assumes anyone under 40 still reads newspapers, but that’s another topic.

There have been so many times throughout my life when a reference to a classic show or classic TV character provided the perfect summation of a unique situation. Shows like Hogan’s Heroes, which aired from 1965 to 1971 and was prominent in syndication for another 30 years, became pop culture benchmarks for generations. For Boomers and a couple of gens after that, we know exactly how Gu reacted to tough questions without seeing the footage. Probably something like this. 

Twenty years ago, such references were far more common. The anchors on ESPN’s Sportscenter would slip names like Rob Petrie or Mr. Kotter into scripts whenever possible. They grew up with some of those shows or watched them on Nick at Nite. It doesn't happen nearly as often these days, though Pardon the Interruption’s Michael Wilbon will still cite Barney Fife as an apt comparison to an umpire, referee, or governing body like the NCAA, at such times when they exhibit an over-inflated sense of authority in making a wrong decision.

The rapid-fire dialogue in The Gilmore Girls (2000-2007) was awash in TV name-drops, from Charlie’s Angels and The Odd Couple to Holmes & Yoyo and ElectraWoman and DynaGirl. One episode, “That Damn Donna Reed,” focused entirely on how the happy domesticity in The Donna Reed Show resonates (or fails to do so) a half-century later.

Would an episode like that work on George and Mandy’s First Marriage (that’s a sitcom airing now, for those who are clueless like me about current TV)? Or do shows in 2026 make references to shows from 2000 to flaunt their pop culture savvy?

I can’t say but my guess is they don’t, because by 2000 television had already fractured into hundreds of channels, and viewership for network series had plummeted. The main reason character and dialogue references from the Comfort TV era remained familiar for decades is that everyone back then was watching the same three channels.

Does it really matter? I don’t know. Everyone talks about how we’re so divided now as a nation, but that was true in the 1960s as well. What we had then that we don’t have now are cultural touchstones. The dictionary defines them as “a concept, event, work of art, or phenomenon that serves as a point of reference or a standard by which the cultural identity, values, and beliefs of a society can be understood. It embodies the collective memory and shared experiences of a culture, often used to analyze or critique social norms or behaviors.”

They don’t have to be profound. As quotations go, “Yabba Dabba Do” doesn’t hold a candle to “Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country.” Same with “Danger, Will Robinson,” “Marcia, Marcia Marcia!”, “Book ‘em, Danno,” “Exit, stage left!” and “Live Long and Prosper.” But even if they provoke a shared smile among strangers, they have served a purpose.

Connective tissue, regardless of from where it emerges, makes a society stronger and more successful. Since the 1950s, classic TV characters have become a part of that tissue. While I’d be sad to see the ones that brought me joy fade into obscurity, the real tragedy is how they likely won’t be replaced with anything else.