No Endings Just Reruns

Endings is one of those interesting happenings in life that can either be good or bad. Life changing or life improving. Sometimes both.

Some endings are a good thing. Such as getting over a sickness or out of a bad relationship.

Many are sad.  Losing those we love, getting fired from a job we like, break ups.

Yet there are many endings in life more benign yet still bring a sense of loss.

Not any that you would notice any big difference, just a bit of sadness. That passing sense of loss that sweeps over you like a chilly Autumn breeze.

So many human beings are addicted to the familiar. Many of us need a certain sameness about our existence. Things we can count on and over which we feel a sense of control.

A morning routine, daily workouts; I wouldn’t know about that. A morning coffee and muffin; that I would definitely know about.

Among these are television shows and movies. Yes, we seem to attach ourselves to certain characters. We soon look forward to returning to a certain place to see people we’ve come to invest in and like. It just feels comfortable being in their presence.

There is absolutely a certain sadness finishing a movie that has completely captured your attention. We’ve become a part of these character’s existences, adventures, pain and happiness.

The ending seems so final and television is no different. Years ago, before the advent of streaming we would wait an entire week to revisit Andy and Barney and travel to Mayberry.

We had questions, most of which remained unanswered.

There was a sense of anticipation about what might happen to the Friends each week. Would Ross and Rachel get together?

Would Joey Tribiani explode from eating too many pizzas?

Would Mr. Phelps accept the mission?

Did Captain Kirk wear a girdle?

Would they ever make room for Daddy?

Would Kramer slip running into Jerry’s apartment or Elaine learn to dance?

Did Columbo ever wash that raincoat?

Would Zelda Gilroy ever catch Dobie Gillis?

Would Ozzie Nelson ever put on a suit and go to work?

How the hell Samantha stayed married to Darrin!

These shows became part of our daily lives and formed a commonality with friends and family.

How often we’d go to parties where the discussion centered around, who killed JR? Or were Ross and Rachel on a break? It as common and something shared on which to agree.

Many would merely say television became part of our culture. I believe it transcended entertainment. We came to depend on these shows each week. Much like visiting Grandma and looking forward to her amazing cookies hot from the oven.

There was a definite sadness at the end of Friends when they walked off toward Central Perk. A moment of what-the-hell-was-that when the Seinfeld cast sat in prison or an Oh-My-God moment when the lights came on and Suzanne Pleshette was in bed with Bob Newhart.

Of course we moved on after these characters left our lives, but it wasn’t without a tinge of sadness.

When something familiar and comforting leaves us, there is suddenly a void that must be filled.

We wait for a new show to catch our attention. One that will fulfill the loss left by the ones that disappeared. I suppose that’s why so many sequels and characters that move to new shows become hits. We are already familiar and relaxed with these individuals. Eager to follow their activities.

You may be thinking, this is no big deal, shows come and go and moving on is easy.

Of course we’re built to move on. But these places and people stay with us as repositories of our memories. We forget so much in life, but hearing “Hi Ho Silver” conjures up a time or special memory about our childhood.

A show shared with a grandparent or the way your father laughed when Jackie Gleason barked, “to the moon, Alice.”

We can actually experience emotion remembering something that happened in an unforgettable film.

Bambi’s mother, Old Yeller,  the shower scene in Psycho, “Luke, I am your father,” Planet of the Apes Statue of Liberty  on the beach ending, Dead Poets, Titanic, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, Love Story (Yes, I know pure soap opera, but memorable), The Sixth Sense, The Usual Suspects, Colonel Blake’s death in M.A.S.H., The Fugitive, or who would win the American Bandstand dance contest?

The Sopranos (another what the hell ending) and any ending on the The Twilight Zone.

There are so many more that evoke memories or another laugh or tear.

Things have changed with the advent of streaming in that you can binge watch episodes without a break. Still, I’m not quite certain if part of the fun of the watching was in the waiting. The anticipation of how something would turn out and conjuring up your own scenarios.

Reruns are popular no doubt. Do we revisit these shows because we love revisiting them, like old friends? Or is it that they evoke precious childhood memories? Remembrances we so need to keep those gone from our lives with us?

Probably a bit of both. Nobody should knock nostalgia as it serves a valuable purpose.

Well, gotta go watch a Gilligan rerun. I thought of a way for them to finally get off that island.

Don’t We All Need a Cruise On The S.S. Minnow?

In reliving the memories of Baby Boomer television, you really didn’t think I’d forget about Gilligan’s Island, did you?

Of all the improbable, unrealistic and oh-my-this-is-beyond-stupid shows we watched as kids, this could be in the top three of all time. Didn’t the Captain and his “little buddy” Gilligan ever think that naming a boat the Minnow might portend a bad outcome in a storm? Hello, how about Jaws or Orca?

The Jetsons were far more believable to me than this crew of castaways. A family living in the space age with robots, no problem.

Castaways on a desert island three hours off Hawaii, give me a break. They lived better than most people in the third world, and Ginger never ran out of makeup or hairspray. Too bad there was no Amazon. If there had been they would have been found and saved. That little smiling truck would have pulled right up to the shoreline and delivered the goods.

The castaways built a radio, huts, and cooked up some unbelievable recipes with coconuts, yet they couldn’t find the wherewithal to build a boat. Not enough trees on that deserted island? Even though one of them was a professor? Noah built an entire ark the size of a small city!

Of course, I’m not the first or even the thousandth to mention how highly laughable this fairy tale was.

However, it just made me rethink the sixties and how desperate we must have been for escape that we actually used Gilligan’s Island as a vehicle.

Times must have been pretty crazy off that TV screen.

Yes, I get it. The whole you-have-to-go-along with the joke thing. Yet I just find it more and more difficult to allow myself that luxury.

Even today watching shows like FBI or any police tale, it seems so improbable how the characters act when they are chasing criminals. No one even covers the back door. So, of course we always hear, “they went out the back,” and the chase begins. Give me a break. Is that really what you learned at Quantico?

Or a single cop going in to chase a perp with no partner or back up. Sure, that could happen. But not in this world!

Why do I find myself more familiar with the rules of law enforcement that the writers?

Hey, there’s a terror attack in Times Square. Quick, go to a pizza joint and find two cops to check it out. Are you kidding me? In what world could that happen?

The whole police force would be there like an army. At least they used to. Now with the new mayor of New York, who knows?

It just seems so silly to me I can’t seem to overlook the craziness of it all.

Yet, I overlooked the fact that Ginger worn a ball gown she brought on a three-hour cruise, that a professor couldn’t build a boat and that the Howells lived like Charles and Camilla in a hut?

What could we possibly be escaping from in the sixties that was more frightening than today’s world and yet… and yet.

Perhaps we can’t buy into so many of these premises anymore because we’ve seen so much more real-life craziness.

Let’s face it, we had no Internet, social media and only three news shows a night to choose from. If Cronkite, Huntley and Brinkley or Peter Jennings didn’t report it, it didn’t happen. End of story.

We watched police behave like Toody and Muldoone in Car 54 Where are You? Or Andy Griffith in Maybury, where Barney got all bent out of shape and insisted on a public hanging if someone jaywalked.

Yes, we had Dragnet and Jack Webb emphasizing, “Just the facts, Mam.” Or tough cops like Broderick Crawford on Highway Patrol we believed were authentic. We were afraid of police despite Barney Fife.

After all, did Jack Webb look like a guy that couldn’t handle whatever came his way? And what about the granddaddy of all crime shows, The Untouchables? Was there ever anyone like Eliot Ness? Staunch in his dedication, devoted to his duty and as honest as the Dalai Llama.

We believed he’d clean up the town, arrest every bad guy and protect us from those bootlegging bad guys.

In the end was it because we simply became so attached to our TV screens that whatever appeared we embraced?

Was life so hard in the fifties and sixties? Sure, there were difficult times with lots of stress. Polio, the cold war, assassinations, Debbie Reynolds and Eddie Fisher splitting up.

So, we watched Gilligan and anything that came on the air, buying into every bit. We were so enthralled with having TV screens in our home we ate up every morsel, believable or not.

We remained optimistic that Gilligan would eventually find a way off that island. That Ginger’s face would break out in zits, and the Professor would take his eyes off Mary Ann’s short shorts long enough to build that boat. Were we naïve or just simply enjoying this new medium that allowed everyone to sit down, be together and escape the outside world?

Was it easy to laugh or were we simply that unsophisticated we found humor and excitement in the characters on the screen? Yet today, it doesn’t seem so easy to buy in. Have we become so jaded that we can’t accept the improbable anymore? Or has the improbable become our new reality? Kinda hard to top politicians for entertainment and pure horror.

As time moved forward into the seventies the shows became more gritty and violent. It got pretty real and a bunch of loons on a desert island wouldn’t make the cut. Or was Gilligan just the precursor to Survivor?

So do the times dictate what we will watch or the shows create the times? Was watching Lee Harvey Oswald murdered in front of our eyes the beginning of reality tv?

Is television a mirror image of life or an exaggeration for entertainment’s sake?

Did we turn to shows like Gilligan for a reprieve from the outside world or to reinforce our belief in innocence? Hasn’t the human race always been eager to laugh at the outrageous and bizarre?

Watching Gilligan on that peaceful island allowed us all to suspend rational thought and just go with the flow and the silliness of their plight.

Perhaps deep inside we were cheering for him to stay there. For that crew to continue to enjoy their desert island in anonymity and uncomplicated joy. Finding a desert island and hiding away sounds even more seductive in these times. After all, Gilligan did always find a way to screw up their potential escapes off the island. Just an observation.

Yep, does sound nice. Maybe that’s why cruises are so popular. They’re no desert island, but at least there’s a boat that works and will hopefully get you home. And a cruise does offer a lot more food choices than a coconut.

Still, knowing the number of fifties and sixties shows, including Gilligan that are watched on reruns daily, maybe more silly is exactly what we all need. Let me see now, The Real Housewives of anywhere or Gilligan’s Island? Okay, no brainer, Mary Ann, cut me another piece of pie, please.