Television

The screen measured only 15 inches from corner to corner. The case was silvertone plastic, with ivory trim and a built-in handle. The magic was inside.

Buying a TV was not an ordinary purchase for a 7th grade kid, but it was something I wanted badly enough to save for for over six months. It was also a purchase that needed approval. Twelve-year-olds in my day and age, weren’t exactly allowed to make such purchases on their own.

I worked them from all angles. I told my mother that a portable TV would be nice for her to use in the kitchen while she ironed. I told my dad that he could watch baseball when mom or my sisters were watching something else. I told them all that this TV would get UHF reception for that new public TV station that was going to start up soon.

It worked. One cold, late February Saturday, my dad and I went to the radio & tv store. Among the Mediterranean console stereos, and the Early American swivel console color and black and white TVs in various sizes and finishes, was a largish portable RCA model. It had “a screen you won’t have to squint at,” my dad said. I think it cost $107. My dad threw in another $15 for a chrome stand.

In my room, I could watch what I wanted. I had craved Star Trek, Laugh-in, Room 222 and many others in reruns and production that my family did not watch.

For many years I could not see certain shows because of their supposed poor influence on our family. Bewitched and I Dream of Jeannie come to mind for their support of witchcraft and magic. My Mother the Car also fell into that category of “things we don’t watch.” For some unknown reason, Lost In Space was also banned, and for many years I had watched that show at a friend’s home, two doors down. Batman and the Monkees, too. My cultural heritage was slipping away from me, right before my eyes!

But now, the years of parental dominance were finally over.

I also discovered Johnny Carson that summer.

Life has never been the same for me, really.