The question posed was about TV shows of the 1960's and
early 70's, my teen and young adult years... who never missed what shows? Which
shows were favorites and which were duds?
Overall, I just can't relate...
Overall, I just can't relate...
Growing up in America, I was certainly aware of, but not a
fan of, mainstream TV, which was pretty much all of it. Mostly it made me feel
disconnected, like someone who doesn't like ice cream. People would say:
"I love that show! or such and such is so good!" and I was silently
numb, feeling like the guy who is picked last for the baseball game that he
doesn't want to play in anyway.
All through High School, I spent most of the evening hours in my bedroom looking through a microscope at a much smaller world and listening to AM radio. That made me happy and gave me a good excuse to avoid the TV room with my folks and Lawrence Welk. Sitting on my bed reading each volume of the 1956 World Book Encyclopedia over and over, trading barbs with my best friend two houses away over a telegraph system we put together, lines buzzing from window to tree to garage to tree and down into my friends window.
My real hot button? Long lazy summer days spent alone on several hundred acres of pristine Virginia woods at my Grandparents place, clearing new growth from the ruts of old stagecoach roads that permanently scared the land, superhighways to the West, now silent of their squeaking wheels and the labored breathing of large animals. I felt them there, the ghosts of the past, now buoyed by cool breezes under the high canopy of live Oaks, populated by choirs of birds...just us, exhilarated, celebratory, and yes, feeling very much connected.
That place was my church. God lived in those woods.
All through High School, I spent most of the evening hours in my bedroom looking through a microscope at a much smaller world and listening to AM radio. That made me happy and gave me a good excuse to avoid the TV room with my folks and Lawrence Welk. Sitting on my bed reading each volume of the 1956 World Book Encyclopedia over and over, trading barbs with my best friend two houses away over a telegraph system we put together, lines buzzing from window to tree to garage to tree and down into my friends window.
My real hot button? Long lazy summer days spent alone on several hundred acres of pristine Virginia woods at my Grandparents place, clearing new growth from the ruts of old stagecoach roads that permanently scared the land, superhighways to the West, now silent of their squeaking wheels and the labored breathing of large animals. I felt them there, the ghosts of the past, now buoyed by cool breezes under the high canopy of live Oaks, populated by choirs of birds...just us, exhilarated, celebratory, and yes, feeling very much connected.
That place was my church. God lived in those woods.
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