Culture of Offense

The American Culture (Art, Books, Movies, Music, Television) was already Terminally Ill in 2010. By 2017 it was dead, and we are witnessing now its Decaying Corpse. Of the Reasons Why this happened, the Impossibility that artists face of Doing Good Work is just one. And just one of the reasons behind that impossibility is the Culture of Offense that we live in today.

It is a contradiction in terms to suggest that a creative person can do good, interesting, challenging work that doesn't offend SOMEBODY, SOMEWHERE. The human race is itself far too contradictory, always ready and able to argue about any damn thing, no matter how trivial. 

In years past, you could offend a few people and it wasn't the End of the World, but today? Offending even a single person carries a Death Sentence. That person will wear their Offense like a Hair Shirt and go out into the world with it and take it online and make it their Life's Work to Utterly Destroy The Thing That Offended them, and the person that created it.

And the money people aren't stupid. Nobody is going to sponsor an artist whose work could possibly destroy their Peanut Butter sales figures.

American Culture has always tended toward the Bland for this reason, but now it has become braindead. A creative mind cannot function properly in a Police State that is heavily patrolled by jack-booted thugs existing at both ends of the political spectrum as well as the middle, middle-left and middle-right. Nothing rational can survive that kind of scrutiny. If the the right to offend is removed from the culture, freedom of thought and expression is removed as well.

When people can be raised to Ire by the color of the socks a character wears, art becomes untenible.

And now we live in a place where art has become so Inoffensive and bland that it's possible be offended by Inoffense, which offense itself offends a whole other group of people, and on and on and on.

There never was any chance of Winning the game of life, but most people now living refuse to acknowledge it. And by refusing to acknowledge that Winning is Impossible, the masses have killed Discourse. Not coincidentally, Discourse is where Art and Culture live.

And today it seems that the only thing that can get the extremists of the Right and Left to Unite is the place where they can both stomp culture out of existence.

"Good!" they will both say as they look down at the bloody, mangled corpses of Discourse, Culture and Art. "Good Riddance! They were a Rum Lot!"

Meanwhile, those of us for whom art and Fiction are the only way of coping with existence will have to crawl ever-deeper into hiding, and glean what we can out of the fragments to the past that remain.

—Thorn.

 

Dave

 I suppose that everyone begins to feel, at some point, that they belong to a Lost Generation — especially when they begin to see significant losses from among their own ranks. Death being the main Occupational Hazard of Life, after all.  

In July, my friend Dave Peabody, known professionally as Dave Naybor, died from a cancer that shot through him at an astonishing speed.  This was him just last year, on the day when all my oldest friends came up to visit me here at the DuckHaus.

He was a guy with a great sense of humor, who always, always came at an idea from a direction that no one else would have thought of. In a world of Sameness, Dave was Daringly Different. He had a great laugh and he always made me laugh. He had a lot of friends. It’s a testament to him that a lot of folks have remembered him online. One thread on Facebook alone holds 111 comments as a type this. A good round number. 

For now, I’ll turn you over to our mutual friend Bruce Canwell, over at the Library of American Comics. Comics were the connecting thread that held us all together over the years, and they were part of what connected Dave to a lot of other people as well. Bruce’s comments about Dave’s passing are closer to what I feel than any words I could possibly muster. 

https://libraryofamericancomics.com/my-job-is-talking-to-people/

I’ll just add that along with the loss there is a sense of shock that I know all of Dave’s friends are feeling. He was just 63 — his illness came quite suddenly, and Dave had no more than informed us that he was in a lot of pain when the announcements came, in rapid succession, that he had lost 100 pounds (Dave never had that much extra weight to lose), that cancer was confirmed, and then that he was in hospice.

We all should have benefitted from his recommendations, his observations, his humor and laughter, his unique perspective, for many years more. We all expected that he would be around with us for a lot longer. There's a sense that the gods have cheated us, by taking him so soon. It's the same sense we felt when our mutual friend Howard was taken from us a decade ago. 

The world is greatly diminished without him.

He was a better friend to me than I was to him. He will be missed. Good night, my friend.

Oh: his collection of Walking Christendom comics is still available at Amazon, here: https://www.amazon.com/Walking-Christendom-One-End/dp/055741167X. A taste of Dave’s humor runs throughout, and is evident in the name he took to publish them: Ed, the Masked Dog Global Empire.

Trailer for SEE THEM DANCE

 

Step right up! SEE — positively the most Astounding Collection of Oddities You Have Ever Witnessed! SEE — a Circus of Terrors and Wonders! SEE — clowns, fortune-tellers and alien beasts! SEE THEM DANCE -- in the trailer for a Fantasy Horror Adventure that will rattle your cage! Sound unhinged? See for yourself!

📘 Get the book: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1492176060

🎥 Watch the trailer:https://youtu.be/GVN2GNeG_ck

New Trailer for PERSEPHONE'S TORCH

Available in paperback and eBook editions, at Amazon or Duck Soup Productions.

 

Bemused But Not Amusing

Am I now retired? Or semi-retired? Or even that?

I guess that if one has to ask oneself the question there must still be enough life left in the corpse to fall back on a semi-plausible denial, but the facts in the case appear exceedingly slim at this moment, even to me. Social security has begun, and Thank Goodness for that, because the money from all other income streams has dried up to an alarming degree. Mind you, the drain on finances has not slowed at all.

Likewise, the desire to do Creative Work has not abated, but the interest in banging one's head repeatedly against a brick wall until the blood flows has dimmed considerably. If no one likes what I'm doing, why keep doing it? The ability of my Ego to absorb continuous punishment is decreasing by the minute.

For now, there's laundry to do and a lawn to mow. You know, whilst my brain makes up its mind or is made up for me. I'm sure that I can find some Busy Work to keep me occupied Between Meals and Sleeps. But coping with the restlessness is still a Question. Am I taking a few Involuntary Vacation Days, or is This It?

Laugh ’til it Hurts

Any authentic Movie Night Program needs to include a two-reel comedy short on the bill ahead of  the feature, and thereby hangs a ramble. 

A “reel” in the old days equated to approximately ten minutes of screen time, thus a six-reel feature ran about an hour and a two-reel comedy short ran about twenty minutes. It formed a buffer between the News of the Day and the serials, cartoons and features on either side. In most ways, the two-reel comedy was the progenitor of television's half-hour sitcom, the main difference being that the “situations” changed in most every “episode,” even when the stars were the same.

Its best practitioners are barely remembered today, and regarded with polite disdain by many who do remember them and wish that others would not. Laurel and Hardy and The Three Stooges were masters of the form, and even Chaplin, Keaton, Lloyd, Chase and other greats found their first successes in the two-reelers.

But alas, any guest audience who attends your movie nights is going to be made up of Modern People; and no audience is more averse to humor than a modern one.

No genre has been hit harder by contemporary social conventions than Comedy. It was always the most delicate of genres, for being so very subjective and personal. But the rise of Social Media, Personal Offense and “Sensitivity” that is anything but sensitive have conspired to reduce comedy to a series of poop jokes and pee jokes and snot jokes and Memes. Even in my own home I can’t show W.C. Fields comedies to a mixed crowd, because my guests find him too offensive. With his alcoholism and his avowed distaste for women, children and dogs, Fields has rendered himself Radioactive in the minds of over-sensitive, over-zealous, self-appointed Guardians of Good Taste. This is precisely why he is so funny, and why it’s so important to defend the past from the censoriousness of the present.

The simplest way to explain it is that all true comedy involves Pain. Comedy is Tragedy seen through Silly Glasses; and in our modern humor-free world, laughing at the misfortunes of others is no longer socially acceptable, especially if those misfortunes occur to politically “protected” species. 

Fields, Laurel and Hardy, and The Stooges in particular have never been highly regarded by anyone lacking a Y chromosome. At least in part, it’s because they never put women on a pedestal, and never held back from showing women being every bit as imperfect the men. Dim-witted and ineffectual as Laurel and Hardy undeniably presented themselves, they were easily dominated by the harridans that they were often (on screen) married to. Much of the comedy in their ouvre is built on their efforts to accomplish the very things that their wives do not want them to accomplish — and on how they fail so spectacularly at accomplishing it. Fields, on the other hand, rarely went against the wishes of his screen spouses, unless it in some way involved drink.

Don’t misunderstand. There are usually good reasons for a species to be protected. But comedy has be approached without rules of engagement. Comedy only works when it is completely one hundred percent democratic, when there are no sacred cows. Comedy only works when EVERYBODY gets a pie in the face.

The Stooges quite literally did just that, while Chaplin, Keaton, Fields, L&H and the other great comedians always gave as good as they got, and got as good as they gave.

So when you are putting together a program for your movie nights, do not neglect the comedy short, even if the comedians attempt to milk one of your sacred cows. (W.C. Fields once famously tried to take a large tax deduction of milk as a business expense for comedians!). We ignore comedy at the expense of our culture, at the expense of our humanity — and although the modern world refuses to acknowledge anything above simple biology, it isn’t Pooping and Peeing and Fucking that Makes Us Human. What makes us human are our more complex imperfections: including fear, cruelty, dishonesty, and yes, even sexism and racism. Without seeing the negatives, we can’t see the more positive human traits such as hope, aspiration, warmth or devotion. 

When classic comedy embarrasses you, reflect on how far we have come. That’s what it’s there for.

—Thorn.

Get With The Program

 

Movies were the start of it all. Books were always saved in public and personal libraries, but movies played before one’s eyes and then vanished, seemingly for good; and so the chance to save them the way one kept and cherished books was almost too fantastic a thing to be hoped for. VHS was a dream come true.

At the earliest opportunity, feature films became the core of my video collection. At first I taped them off the air; then I bought them on VHS and later DVD and digital. Recently, my collection of feature films crossed over the 2,000 mark.

And that’s just what I’ve actually watched at least once. Currently my queue of unwatched movies that I’m hoping to get around to sooner or later numbers at least 1,200 more.

With that many feature films all begging to be watched, it’s essential that my weekly viewing schedule include at least two, and sometimes three Movie Nights. At that rate, I don’t expect to run out of new-to-me attractions before the day I die, but it doesn’t stop me from adding more when I can. It’s the Preservationist Instinct in me. Because as movie theaters continue to die out, our options and selections will grow more limited. Streaming services are no option at all as far as I’m concerned. To be pro-active in your choices in movies, you’re going to need to keep a lot of them in-house. Lots of folks use Plex and other apps to organize their collections; at the moment I prefer to make my own arrangements.

I tend to approach feature films on a seasonal basis; this started probably two decades ago when I was in another life, working a job that I hated and facing a long cold dreary winter without relief. I thought, what will make me happy this winter? My “Sci-Fi Fridays” were born.

Twice or thrice a year I give over Sunday nights to mysteries of the cozy variety; meanwhile, Tuesdays tend to be a catch-all and catch-as-catch-can.

On the face of it, organizing your own personal Film Festival is simple enough, and yours will vary wildly from anyone else’s according to taste. The real question is, how far do you want to take it, and how authentic do you want to get?

To this day, movie theaters still show previews of coming attractions, but from the 1930s all the way through to the ‘60s (and in some places lasting even into the ‘70s), your ten cents got you not just a movie, but a full program of short features, comedies, cartoons, serials and newsreels. Recreating an authentic theater program has long been an interest of mine, but be warned that it’s very much a bottomless rabbit hole.

Trailers for coming attractions are some of the hardest things to find in any depth, as there are generally no official releases of these, and you’re most likely to find them as extras on DVD or Blu-Ray. On the other hand, some private collectors have made a lot of vintage trailers available on YouTube, but if you’re like me and want to have local copies you’re going to have to find a way to download them. There are ways and means of doing this, but you’ll find they’re in a constant state of flux; any links I could include here would likely be invalid by the time I posted them. So you’re going to have to research this for yourself. It’s worth doing, though, because it adds an extra layer of authenticity (and therefore fun) to start your show with a concise but thematically-appropriate collection of Coming Attractions.

FYI, back in The Day, the Coming Attractions reels usually ran at the END of the show, to help clear the auditorium. That’s why they’re properly called “trailers.” I don’t know when exactly they were moved to the beginning of the show, but that’s where they’ve lived for as long as I’ve been alive, which is a long time for some of you. It’s now so customary to lead with them that “who am I to kick?” Doing it any other way seems wrong somehow.

Next up, vintage Newsreels. These are even harder to find than trailers, but there are samples lurking on YouTube and at the Internet Archive. Nearly every one of the major studios had their own Newsreel program, but Fox’s MovieTone News, usually announced by Lowell Thomas, are most common today — and even then, most of the available entries are Major Historical Events or are oddball Color Pieces. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” but this is an aspect of the American cinematic experience that I wish was far better preserved and more commonly accessible than it is.

Novelty shorts are a very nice boost to your movie programs, and thank goodness for Warner’s which makes a large amount of these available to us on affordable DVD-Rs via the Warner Archive Collection, a print-on-demand model that makes hundreds of titles available that would not be commercially viable any other way. Here’s the link: https://www.warnerbros.com/collections/warner-archive. My advice is to buy them and rip the DVDs to digital: not only for the convenience, but as protection against the disks going bad (DVD-Rs are notoriously unstable).

You’ve got a wide range of material to choose from here: short dramatic films such as the ones in the CRIME DOES NOT PAY series, comedic puff pieces such as the Pete Smith, Robert Benchley or Joe McDoakes novelties; travelogues such as the wonderful full-color MGM TravelTalks, jazzy concerts (the predecessor of the Music Video) and records of stage vaudeville performances like the ones included on Warner’s VITAPHONE VARIETIES series.

Serials — those fifteen-minute slices of action, low budget adventure and cliffhangers (both Star Wars and Indiana Jones were inspired by them) were a staple of Saturday afternoon matinees, but I like to include a serial chapter each and every time I run a feature, whether or not friends are present. They’re less plentiful on the ground than they were back in the days of VHS tape, (Republic was actively releasing them for a while in the ‘80s and ‘90s) but limited numbers can still be found in most retail outlets. Kino-Lorber has released two of Republic Pictures’ best on Blu-Ray: THE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN MARVEL from 1941, and DAREDEVILS OF THE RED CIRCLE, from 1939. Both are terrific examples of the genre: once you get through all 12 chapters of either, you’ll know whether or not want to dig deeper into the genre.

There are a couple more genres to explore here, but they deserve more space.  In particular, no other film genre has been more harmed by modern sensibilities than comedy; I’ll explore two reelers and B-movies Next Time.

Happy viewing!

— Thorn.

Some More for The Worst Day of the Week

It dawns on me that Comedy is a trifle hard to find these days, especially if you don’t know where to look, especially if your search is confined to The Present Day.

Comedy has gone to ground. Comedy hides in the past.

It’s baffling that Monty Python is not to this day the Universally Experienced Standard that it’s always been for me, and it surprises me that even those who know Python are not aware of all its many offshoots. Why, for instance, do more people not know about RIPPING YARNS?

Created by Michael Palin and the late Terry Jones, it was a brief but wonderfully funny series of one-off comedies derived from Victorian-era British Boy’s Adventure Tales: stuff like Biggles and Tom Brown’s School Days. Two series were made; not every individual episode was a grand slam out of the ballpark, but enough of them were good enough so that it mystifies me that the series isn’t better remembered.

Nor was MONTY PYTHON the sole standard-bearer of oftentimes silly, usually biting sketch comedy. Stephen Fry and Hugh Laurie happily showed us A BIT OF FRY AND LAURIE; Rowan Atkinson (BLACK ADDER, MR. BEAN) was among the talented cast of NOT THE NINE O’CLOCK NEWS — as the title implies, a sketch show slightly a more rooted in topical, then-contemporary subjects than PYTHON; while THE GOODIES’ Tim-Brooke Taylor, Grahame Garden and Bill Oddie specialized in taking comedic flights of fantasy to ever-sillier extremes. In the states, the best we could do at this sot of thing was SC (Second City) TV, which served as the vastly superior Training Ground for performers who went on to a bigger paycheck on SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE. 

In other news, the situation comedies made by David Croft in collaboration (usually) with Jeremy Lloyd or Jimmy Perry were comedy standards of their day, even in the USA; today I find that entirely too many young people are unaware of their existence. Politically correct they were not — but neither did they really offend until more soft-headed executives took charge at the BBC. ARE YOU BEING SERVED? and DAD’S ARMY are probably the longest lived and most impactful of Croft & Co.’s oeuvre. The latter drew the displeasure of the Pythons when it bumped the FLYING CIRCUS out of a prime time scheduling slot. The former, about the staff of a failing London department store, was particularly beloved by those of us who were ourselves members the Retail Slave Class back when the show originally aired. As with ‘ALLO, ‘ALLO, another Croft/Lloyd collaboration, it was marked by a sense of humor that was oftentimes filthy — but infinitely subtle by today’s standards. Modern audiences can be so hypocritically fragile about so many issues, while simultaneously being blithely acceptant of overt (and utterly unfunny) vulgarity. To paraphrase Lance Corporal Jones of DAD’S ARMY, in those days we did not like it Right Up Us. We did not like it, sir!

The double entendre was a Croft staple back in the days when double entendres actually worked both ways. Implied but never overt filth could be said to be a standard of British Comedy. Frankie Howerd minced and giggled his way through UP POMPEII and other shows, while the working-class gents in ON THE BUSSES filled entire runs with a wink and a leer.

All the same, higher things, even Great Things, often came out of British situation comedy. THE FALL AND RISE OF REGINALD PERRIN was based on a series of novels by David Nobbs, and the three series made during its original run (plus a fourth made years later after the death of Leonard Rossiter, the show’s anti-hero) all have a novelist’s sensibility behind them, and all tell affecting, relatable, and sometimes tragic stories each with a clear beginning, middle and end. (Martin Clunes participated in an extremely ill-advised remake years later: avoid this at all costs!)

In a similar vein, MULBERRY — from the writing team of John Esmonde and Bob Larbey, who also gave us THE GOOD LIFE, EVER DECREASING CIRCLES and BRUSHSTROKES, dared to weave comedy around the tale of an old woman faced with a Personified Death who rather liked her and did everything in his power to put off the Event.  These shows are as good as “situation comedy” gets on television, and it’s a crime that seemingly no one under the age of fifty remembers them.

Thanks to American media being funded by sales of soap, laundry powder and underarm deodorant, and to the powerful driving force of Madison Avenue, American television was somewhat more polished and luxurious than its British counterpart; and so where Britcoms were often down, dirty and getting away with it on pure nerve, American comedy was a good deal more like gigantic, squeaky-clean, sturdily-built and maintained steamships cutting the waves. Still, the best was powered by Good Writing: the single commodity lacking from too great a majority of modern television.

If I don’t write so much about thee traditions of situation comedy in the USA, it’s probably because Science of Mind is not my strong point. It’s hard for me to imagine entire generations of people who did not grow up in a world where THE HONEYMOONERS, M*A*S*H, ALL IN THE FAMILY and GILLIGAN’S ISLAND were Common Denominators. For me, these and others are part of Basic Cultural Literacy, but I don’t disdain someone not knowing or never having seen them: I just don’t understand how it can be possible.

THE HONEYMOOONERS and ALL IN THE FAMILY at least allow us to discuss how much the culture has changed. Although I have friends who see the handful of HONEYMOONERS episodes as a cultural high-water mark (and they are), it was never a personal favorite of mine entirely because I disliked Ralph Kramden so intensely. In this, I think that I’m more in line with Modern Thinking than in any other cultural area. I’ve softened to him just a little bit over the years, but only because Fred Flintstone allowed me to see past the bluster.

Conceived as a HONEYMOONERS parody THE FLINTSTONES is instead a full-on carbon copy, THE HONEYMOONERS in stone-age drag, and with a fanciful, imaginative sensibility that lightens the whole experience. It caused me to understand that we can love Fred/Ralph because Wilma/Alice loves him, and in loving him shows that there is more to him (not limited to faith and devotion) than what’s visible to the naked eye.

Archie Bunker is even more difficult than Ralph to come to terms with. But rather than ALL IN THE FAMILY being “too much” for Modern Audiences, I’d suggest that Modern Audiences are too thin-skinned and focussed on their Sensitivity Training to understand what it has to say to us. The point is not that Archie is sometimes in the wrong: he is always in the wrong, on every single issue and in every single situation — and not just a little bit in the wrong, but spectacularly so — and still Edith loves him. This is where comedy becomes great drama.

GET SMART (from Mel Brooks and Buck Henry) took a single joke and milked five seasons out of it, accomplishing in the process something that AUSTIN POWERS failed miserably at: parodying a genre that was already a parody of itself. WKRP IN CINCINNATI, BARNEY MILLER, MY FAVORITE MARTIAN, BEWITCHED, GREEN ACRES, HOGAN’S HEROES, the BOB NEWHART and MARY TYLER MOORE shows, and a horde of others, too numerous to mention, were popular staples in the times that they aired, providing a social and cultural stage set upon which everyone could meet, if not agree.

It should be clear by now that you need almost nothing from the modern world when you program an evening of comedy. Because the best shows are universal in experience if not appeal, and you will find enough material that is New To You to last you for many years, even many decades, to come.

— Thorn

Just Another Manic Monday

The Story So Far: Media-loving boy deprived of the old sources and finding satellite, cable and streaming services a poor substitute becomes his own Programming Director and enjoys it immensely . . . though it is a lot of work. The more tricks he learns and the more content he amasses in-house, the less he misses the ever-growing shallowness of Contemporary “Culture,” of which the quality can best be described by another word beginning with the letter “C.”

And now we re-join our regularly scheduled program, already in progress:

 

When I first started going off the grid with my evening’s entertainment, I quickly realized that Monday Night was going to be critical to my mental well-being.

Monday. The worst day of the week needed to be met head-on with Things That Made Me Happy. Tip No. 1: Pile All of Your Favorite Shows onto Monday Nights!

For me, this meant Comedy, specifically situation comedy, specifically (but not limited to) the British variety. And in the USA, only the most popular of British comedies — your Monty Pythons, your Fawlty Towers and the like — ever got a home video release in any format. Some that did get issued (Are You Being Served, Dad’s Army and The Goodies among them) saw incomplete, inferior or staggered releases.  I was fortunate to have taped a lot of shows off the air during the days when PBS would run such things, but it became evident pretty quickly that if I ever wanted to see anything new-to-me, I would have to find a way to buy and play Region Two disks. The “buy” part was easy enough (because Suited Corporate Bastards will sell you anything), but playing Region 2 disks in the USA is impossible without specialized equipment.

Still, I resisted. It took a show called Last of the Summer Wine to get me to break down and buy a region-free DVD player. And I’m so glad I did.

At 295 episodes, it is the longest-running sitcom in the world. As things go, it’s about as UN-high a concept as you can get: three retired gents spend their days wandering around a cozy Yorkshire town, talking.

That’s it. As the cast filled out, opportunities for the ladies of the town to speak their piece were added; and, most of the time, the more enterprising one of the gents would come up with some hair-brained scheme to get the scruffiest one of the group to publicly embarrass himself. It ran for 37 years. 

I just finished watching series 18, which puts me a little more than halfway through the run. My first significant buy of Region 2 material has already lasted me for years, and without repeat viewings it will remain a centerpiece of my Monday Happy Place for years yet to come. Although I do not look forward to key cast members dying off and being replaced, it’s a strong reminder that life has its trials even in the best of times.

My region 2 player was not satisfied with just that significant dish, and still required regular feeding. One of the first additions was the Complete Collection of The Goodies, a comedy trio with cartoonish sensibilities that make Monty Python look staid and conservative by comparison. From Jimmy Perry and David Croft (creators of Dad’s Army) have come Hi-Di-Hi (hijinks in one of those uniquely English Institutions, the Holiday Camp), It Ain’t Half Hot, Mum (antics of a British “Concert Party” in WWII India; now considered by the BBC to be one the most offensive shows ever made — a thing that I regarded as a particular selling point) and others. 

From Bob Esmonde and John Larbey, creators of the classics Mulberry and The Good Life, comes Brush Strokes, the good-natured saga of a young man who likes the opposite sex rather too much. From Yorkshire Television, the company that gave us a state-of-the-art spy show in The Sandbaggers, comes In Loving Memory starring Dame Thora Hird and Christopher Beeny as a duo of undertakers muddling through in a 1929 mill town.

The versatility of comic star Ronnie Barker (known to Americans primarily as one half of The Two Ronnies) was spelled out to me via two series: Open All Hours (created by Summer Wine’s Roy Clarke) and Porridge (a prison comedy of all things, which turns up often on lists of Britain’s Best Sitcoms). 

And, in the fall season, from Richard Carpenter, creator and main writer for Robin of Sherwood comes The Ghosts of Motley Hall and Catweazle — not so much situation comedies as supernaturally-themed “kid’s shows” with a gentle sense of humor. These entries demonstrate why it’s important to support physical media while you can: they were released by a company called Network, which went belly-up late in 2023, taking an awful lot of British television with them when they died.

It hasn’t all been unmitigated joy: sometimes you come up with a clinker. Mann’s Best Friends was a one-shot-series from Summer Wine’s Roy Clarke with a good concept and a good cast that simply tried too hard. It wasn’t so much about the eccentric and wacky residents of a tiny rooming house as it was about residents who were trying to be eccentric and wacky and failing miserably. Misfires happen when you’re a programming executive, even on the smallest scale. Curry and Chips, another show that attracted my attention for being considered one of the most offensive shows that ever aired, wasn’t so much offensive as ineffective and half-baked.

But the winners have far outnumbered the losers, and one of the nice things about British TV is that the series are so short (typically not running more than 6 to 8 episodes in any given season) that none of them outstay their welcome.

Of course I liberally mix in American series, both new-to-me (for instance, My Favorite Martian, with Ray Walston and Bill Bixby) and Old Favorites. The latter includes a lot of shows that I haven’t seen since their original airdates (Cheers is coming soonish), but occasionally the time comes to revisit perennial classics like M*A*S*H or Gilligan’s Island. Whether new-to-me or not, I dole them out sparingly in six-to-eight week runs, just to pace them. Good as most MTM shows are, they’re better when taken in British measures. I’ve been viewing The Mary Tyler Moore Show in such limited bits that it’s taken me significantly more than a decade to view the first five seasons. No binge-watching for me: These shows were meant to be taken at a rate of no more than once a week. How can anyone appreciate anything when they guzzle it down in gulps as if it were a quart of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream? One thing I’ve learned: when something makes you happy, you want it to last.

Among the re-discoveries? As a very young boy I remember watching re-runs of Car 54, Where Are You?  with Fred Gwynne, Joe E. Ross and Al Lewis. The main impression on me at that age was of course that Gwynne and Lewis were “the same guys in The Munsters.” In my sixties, I was glad to discover that it’s actually a very funny show in its own right about inner city cops, pre-dating Barney Miller by many years. I’ve made its two seasons last about as long as possible: it will be an unhappy day when I run out of episodes sometime this summer.

Next Time: WDUK Tuesday Night at the Movies.

— Thorn.