Robin Writes: Poor Hoss
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By Robin Garrison Leach
Want a dose of REAL reality TV? Tune into some old shows from the past.
I just finished watching an episode of ‘The Golden Girls.’ With their flamboyant wardrobes and razor-tongued rapport, they were fun to watch when I was a young mother; they were caricatures of women I’d never be.
The jokes were funny back then, in a ‘Hey, these old ladies really have some spark left in their pistons!’ and ‘Isn’t that precious, the way they live together in that comfy bungalow; looking for a silver lining in the process of aging?’ way.
I landed on an episode that gave Blanche Deveraux a dramatic storyline. Was she pregnant? Sure; she was promiscuous, but wasn’t she a bit ‘mature’ for ovulation?
Well, it turns out Blanche had reached the first leg on the sliding slope of menopausal symptoms. Her roommates all commiserated with her as she explored the ramifications of drying skin, hot flashes and her self-perceived loss of feminine appeal.
My own horror came slamming home when Blanche bemoaned the ‘end of her life’ at 54.
I’m older than ALL the Golden Girls now.
Today, with a reality thrust upon me by 24 minutes of clever dialog breezily delivered by women who have tighter glutes than my own, I see myself with bifocal-ed clarity.
The men on ‘Bonanza’ wore big hats and led burly lives. I liked listening to the theme song as the map burned. The brothers spent a lot of time fighting bad guys, and even more time trading insults. Hoss was a big target for their barbs.
Who knew the show would be around over 40 years later?
The grandma in me feels a strange sympathy for Hoss now. He was clearly a bit husky and unhappy with his clumsy nature. His family loved him, but did they ever think about the poor boy’s feelings when they made him the butt of all their practical jokes?
Maybe his ten-gallon hat was huge, but did they need to fill it with horse trough water? And why did he always have to check with Pa before he did anything? Maybe they could have trusted his judgment once in a while.
If Hoss was my grandson, I’d cook him some healthier meals than the ones Hop Sing offered, and find him a sweet schoolmarm to give him lots of young’uns.
‘Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In’ reflected the late 60’s and early 70’s better than any other TV show. With sketches and images that pushed the political and social envelopes, Laugh-In reflected the angst and power we teens thought was our burden to bear.
Dancing girls in bikinis painted slogans on their bodies and danced. Snide jokes that we didn’t always understand were still funny. Guests like Richard Nixon and Hubert Humphrey tried to show their relevancy as we guffawed at their gullibility.
The show was cool and current then. But now? I am embarrassed by the frenetic action and demeaning subject matter. Were we that desperate for attention? That rude and immature?
Rowan and Martin looked high throughout most of the show; Goldie Hawn needed a cheeseburger. Who told her that playing dumb was something women needed to do?
I don’t laugh at the jokes I see on Laugh-In now that I’m a mature Boomer whose AARP membership is paid automatically through my bank debit card. I just cringe and wonder why we thought Artie Johnson was funny when he fell off his tricycle.
Watching the old shows on nostalgia TV channels offers a treasure trove of reality for those of us who grew up when these shows originally aired. Older, wiser eyes see the ways our culture—and our own lives—have grown.
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ν Robin is a freelance columnist who lives and writes in Quincy, Illinois. Contact her at [email protected].
