My name is Stevie and I readily admit that I am a televisionaholic. When I was growing up I could quote the tv guide verbatim. I knew that women special guest stars on shows like Magnum, P.I. or Starsky and Hutch would be dead before the end of the show, because they weren’t going to marry them off. I also knew if the star of the show was injured in a cliffhanger, they would survive because it was their show unless contract negotiations broke down.
Having watched Leave It to Beaver, The Andy Griffith show, the Brady Bunch, Bewitched and The Waltons, among others, I started pondering on what I learned from television.
For instance:
Moms were always dressed up, smelled nice and never yelled. Dinner was waiting on the table and friends, as well as dad’s boss, would be welcome without any notice. She would instinctively know when plans were being made that would lead to trouble, and could always kiss the hurts away. No matter the time, cookies were coming out of the oven and milk would be available in glass bottles in the refrigerator. She never gained weight and had terrific manners. The only discipline moms ever did was sending the children to their rooms to wait for their father.
Dad would leave for work every morning in the only car, leaving mom “stranded” at home. He would work all day in an office doing something that was never explained, reliving his glory days of playing football, baseball, tennis or squash, while drinking coffee. If he wasn’t in the office, he would have meetings on the golf course. He was the disciplinarian because Mom would say, “Just wait till your father comes home!” It was his responsibility to hand out the chores, pay the bills, mow the grass and make enough money to keep the family going.
The children were always in trouble, and could never seem to remember instructions. Lunch money was lost, bikes were stolen and feelings were hurt. The good news was that no matter what the problem, it could be solved in 30 minutes, an hour, or if it was a really big problem it would be continued to the next week, so it might take two hours. The solution always left everyone smiling and relieved that little Timmy, Beaver, Greg or Marcia had been dealt with. Talks were always frank and open and everyone got to share their feelings, ending in group hugs or being grounded depending on the crisis of the week.
Families weren’t necessarily only mom, dad and kids. Sometimes grandparents, housekeepers and genies were there. Aunts, uncles and cousins would invariably drop in and create such havoc that everybody was relieved when they left. Visits from in-laws sent Mom into a tailspin as she tried to make the house spotless. Of course the family dog, Spot, Tiger, Lassie or Comet ALWAYS tracked mud in just as the visitors arrived. It didn’t matter, soon everyone was laughing about it.
Children were never alone, afraid, hurt, ignored or lonely. There were few “only children” families. Each family had at least two children, maybe three, but no more. Parents slept in twin beds, which was the reason there were no more than 2 children. Mr. and Mrs. Walton however, slept in one bed and they had 7 children. There is a correlation here. Sex was talked about , hinted at and children were born, but it was never actually shown. Soap opera children were cute little babies one day, the next week they were six and six months later they were graduating from high school. Some children were sent upstairs or to the garage and were never heard from or mentioned again (Chuck on Happy Days, for instance).
Watching tv growing up we didn’t have a color set, so it seemed things were only black and white, that there was very little room for other colors.
In retrospect, my life is full of color.
My mom, while she could dress up and look beautiful, was very human. She would scold (not really yell) sweat and laugh. Like tv moms, she knew when I was planning something wrong, and could kiss the hurts away. Dinner was not always on the table, but there was a warm breakfast waiting for me every morning. She had a car and was not stranded at home, but Stupid was notorious for stranding us other places. She never said “wait till your father gets home”, because she didn’t want us dreading him coming home, she wanted us to be excited to see our dad. I could see her brown eyes and the gray in her hair as she looked at me with love.
My dad did leave the house to go to work, but he didn’t wear a suit every day and he would walk most days. If I was really lucky, I would get to go to work with him and “help” him do things, and I didn’t have to wait for Take Your Daughter to Work Day. Dad would play along with us as we played “office”. He mowed the grass, fixed the cars and provided for our family, but he also taught the whole neighborhood how to play soccer. He was at every school program and helped with our homework. He had a farmer’s tan, silver hair and sparkling green eyes. Because he made mistakes, he was definitely not black and white.
I have a younger brother and he absolutely is in color. He raised turtles, horned toads, rabbits and Stubby the dog. He had broken bones, crooked teeth and a mini-bike. He fell in love in high school, married her and gave me a niece and two nephews. His family has struggled through job changes and other struggles, and came out loving each other more. He’s a three-dimensional, completely human mistake maker, and I love him dearly.
Being “grown up” I now know that some problems can’t be defined in 30 minutes, let alone be solved. Everything is not always rosy and life is unfair. My parents helped me learn that, and I am glad they did. They also let me learn some things for myself, which only made me stronger. You see, I’m not black and white either.
My life is full of vibrant colors. Not just black and white, there are grays, blues, reds and greens. Color creates room to wiggle, to make mistakes and to forgive. Color makes room for people with different opinions, and flowers and trees.
I’m grateful for the things television did teach me, but I’m more grateful that I’m able to live life and not sit on a couch and watch it pass me by. My life doesn’t fit in a little box on the shelf that I turn off and on. It’s a healthy, full throttle adventure with bumps and twists, sometimes a little scary or lonely, but totally impromptu. I pick the cast, and the location, and I know that each day will be more colorful than the day before. I can’t wait to see tomorrow!
Stevie
copyright Fort Worth TX 2009
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