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.