Tag: entertainment

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The Tragic Tale of TV Theme Songs: From Gilligan’s Island  to Whatever This Is Now

Ah, the 1960s and 1970s when TV theme songs were more than just filler. They were spectacles. They were anthems. They were the reason you sat through the credits, pretending to pay attention while your popcorn got cold and your sibling snatched the last cookie. But today? TV theme songs have become like the sad parsley on a microwaved dinner unnecessary and mostly forgotten. Let’s take a wild ride through the glory days of TV theme songs, from The Beverly Hillbillies to Gilligan’s Island and then to the sad, meme-driven shadow of today’s intros.

The Glory Days: When TV Theme Songs Were Basically Broadway

Back in the good old days, TV theme songs weren’t just there to fill air time, they told entire stories. They set the stage, introduced the characters, and gave you everything you needed to know in a minute or less. Take The Beverly Hillbillies, for instance. That banjo-fueled ballad didn’t just say, “Hey, the Clampetts got rich and moved to Beverly Hills” No, no. It invited you into their world, where you could almost smell the cement pond and taste the possum stew. You felt like you were right there, sitting on the front porch in a rocking chair, staring at their brand-new mansion.

And then there’s Gilligan’s Island. The Ballad of Gilligan’s Island wasn’t just a theme song, it was a full-on epic. In less than a minute, it not only explained why seven people were stranded on a deserted island, but also gave you their names, jobs, and a helpful warning that the weather started getting rough.It was Homers Odyssey, but with more coconuts and fewer monsters. If you didn’t know the lyrics to that song, well, you might as well have been from a different galaxy.

The Decline: When Theme Songs Became the Sad, Overlooked Stepchild

Now let’s talk about what happened to TV theme songs as we entered the age of streaming, smartphones, and the complete destruction of patience. Today’s theme songs are like the intro credits of The Office, short, forgettable, and so uninspired that even the animated sequence feels like it’s just phoning it in. In fact, modern shows treat theme songs like a necessary evil, something to slap together so they don’t get sued for not having one. Now, they’re lucky if we get a 10-second jingle that barely manages to say, Hey, this is a show, before its done and we’re on to the next scene.

What happened? Did we suddenly decide that listening to full songs was too much of a commitment? Did Netflix declare, Sorry, theme songs, we’re all about the plot twists and memes now? Or did every banjo player in Hollywood just retire? (Seriously, where are all the banjo players?)

The Beverly Hillbillies vs. Modern TV: A Tale of Two Eras

Let’s break it down, shall we?

 The Beverly Hillbillies: A glorious minute of banjo strumming that gives you everything Jed Clampett, his kinfolk, and how they went from being poor mountain folk to Beverly Hills royalty. A true rags-to-riches anthem. You didn’t just watch it, you hummed along.

 Modern Show: A five-second instrumental that sounds like a kitten tiptoeing across a Moog synthesizer. You don’t learn anything about the characters, the plot, or why you should care. You’re left wondering if you accidentally clicked on a screensaver.

It’s like comparing a five-course meal to a stale cracker. One’s rich with flavor and history, the others are just there.

Gilligan’s Island vs. Streaming Services: A Three-Act Tragedy

Now, let’s pit Gilligan’s Island against the modern streaming era:

 Gilligan’s Island: A full-blown ballad that explained everything in under a minute. You knew who was on that island, why they were there, and how long they’d be stuck (spoiler: a three-hour tour). It was the perfect blend of exposition and entertainment.

 Streaming Show: A 10-second loop of ambient noise that doesn’t even try to explain what’s happening. You’re left wondering if you accidentally clicked on the Welcome to 1998 screensaver on your desktop.

It’s like Shakespeare writing Macbeth and modern TV offering up a text message that just says K.

The Why of It All: What Happened to TV Theme Songs?

So, what happened? How did we go from The Beverly Hillbillies to whatever is happening now? Some might say it’s the rise of streaming and the skip intro button. Others might blame the constant need for instant gratification. Who has time for a full song when you can just dive into the plot with minimal effort? The attention span of viewers has drastically shrunk, and I’m sure TikTok isn’t helping.

But the real loss here is the joy that a great theme song can bring. A good theme song was like a friend you could rely on familiar, exciting, and always there for you. Sure, they might’ve been a little cheesy, but that’s part of their charm. We miss the days when the theme song could make or break a show.

A Call to Action: Bring Back the Theme Song!

I know you’re out there, TV producers. You may have forgotten about the power of a good theme song, but I haven’t. We need to bring back the iconic, catchy, slightly ridiculous theme songs that made us sing along and set the mood for every episode. Give us something that lasts more than the time it takes to grab a snack.

Until then, I’ll be here, humming the Gilligan’s Island theme and waiting for the day when a show dares to give us a theme song worthy of a standing ovation.

Just sit right back and you’ll hear a tale…

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Timing, Tempo and Rhythm

As I sit in front of the piano with its 88 keys, I feel challenged to produce a musical tune with my novice fingers. My online instructor keeps repeating: “Timing, tempo and rhythm.” How did Mozart and Stevie Wonder manage to master these skills? As I hear the NBA playoffs on TV, I realize that timing, tempo and rhythm are essential for many aspects of life, not just music. 

Timing, tempo, and rhythm – three little words that can mean the difference between life and death. In the twisted game of existence, they’re the cogs that turn the wheels, propelling us forward or leaving us behind in a trail of dust.

In sports, timing can be the difference between winning and losing, between victory and defeat. But it’s not just about being in the right place at the right time. As basketball coach John Wooden once said, “Be quick, but don’t hurry.” It’s about knowing when to make your move, when to strike, and when to hold back. Elvin Hayes, who played for the Houston Rockets in the 1970s, was known for listening to Smokey Robinson’s “Second That Emotion” before games. Hayes believed that the song’s upbeat tempo helped him get into the right mindset for the game. The late, great Kobe Bryant listened to Jay-Z, Beethoven and Journey to syncopate his court skills. 

Timing is a key ingredient that makes the jokes of Seinfeld, Chris Rock and George Carlin hilarious and transform a sigh into a belly laugh.

Tempo, on the other hand, is the heart of music. It’s the pulse that drives the beat, the speed at which we move through life. And just like a well-crafted melody, the tempo can evoke emotions we never knew existed. The faster the beat, the more frenzied we become. The slower the tempo, the more melancholic we feel. It’s a delicate balance, and one that can be manipulated to great effect.

But rhythm is the true master of our fate. It’s the pattern that underpins everything we do, the driving force that gives us purpose and direction. Whether it’s the rhythm of our breathing or the rhythm of our footsteps, it’s the metronome that keeps us moving forward. As writer Maya Angelou once said, “Everything in the universe has a rhythm, everything dances.”

Timing, tempo and rhythm are the foundations of our existence, the elements that shape the mysterious maze of life. Whether we’re making jokes or scoring points, playing music or dealing with our feelings, it’s these three little words that can lift us up or drag us down. So let’s harness the power of timing, the core of tempo and the master of rhythm. For by doing so, we’ll find the groove that leads us to success and keep us forever young!

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Digital Monopoly and Family Bliss

Picture this:  a family vacation in Park City, Utah and ten feet of snow.The ski slopes were pristine, the views were breathtaking, the ski and snowboard turns were on point and on edge. The family was having a great time. But, what brought us even closer, was something unexpected:  a highly competitive digital Monopoly game.

Yes, you heard that right.  Monopoly! The game where players buy and sell properties, build houses and hotels, and bankrupt each other. It’s not exactly what you would call a family bonding activity, right? But it turns out capitalism can be a social glue too.

The idea of playing Monopoly came as we sat in the living room and watched the Rocky Mountain snow pile up against the silhouette of the ski lift. Siri suggested that we look into  the digital version, and four clicks later, we had the Monopoly board streaming on the big screen. At first, I was skeptical. I mean, I had played Monopoly before, and I knew how intense it could get. But the group was game, and soon enough, we were all huddled around the monitor reading how to electronically roll the dice.

The game started off pretty innocently. We all picked our favorite game pieces (I went with the top hat, of course) and started buying properties. I delegated management to my younger son,  a real-life mergers and acquisitions attorney, who parlayed our portfolio into a few monopolies. Adrianne, my older son’s girlfriend, snagged all the railroads and piled up big time currency as we repeatedly landed on her railroad holdings. 

But things really started to heat up when my older son and his girlfriend, Adrianne, started negotiating over St. James Place. He was willing to buy it from her for $200, but she wanted to sweeten the deal. She suggested he throw in a pedicure at a spa in Miami and only then she might consider the sale of St. James Place.  Introducing a real-life aspect to the game left us all in hysterics.

As the game progressed, we all became more and more invested. We started making alliances and deals in an effort to outsmart each other. The bankruptcies started to pile up and the monocled, rich Uncle Pennybags began ruthlessly deleting the accounts of the moneyless, propertyless contestants.

 As the evening turned into a late night event only two players were still solvent: Adrianne declared victory based on a Fort Knox wad of cash and hotels on Boardwalk and Park Place and her real-life pedicure appointment already secured.  My younger son and I were not ready to concede and we await the final report from our forensic accountant. 

We all had a great time playing the game. It brought us closer together and we laughed and joked the whole time. It was a reminder that sometimes, it’s the unexpected and simple activities from days gone by that bring us together.

So, next time you’re on vacation with your family, consider breaking out the virtual Monopoly board. An old-fashioned game night might just bring you closer together. And who knows, you might even get a pedicure out of it.  It worked for Adrianne.

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AI (Artificial Intelligence) meets 21st Century Dog Blog

I took my canine blog piece this week to ChatGPT and asked to convert it into Shakespearean sonnet and then write it in the New Yorker magazine style. All of four seconds passed when I received this output. It did not “red line” my original nor summon me to the English office after school hours. After a few minutes of sadness about the state of human creativity, I realized that we are doomed to the only job in the future: pushing a button like George Jetson working for Spacely Space Sprockets. Comments welcome.

Oh, how quaint and retro I may seem,

A lover of dogs from a bygone dream.

Gravy train and kibble, an old soup bone,

A shag rug for my faux dog throne.

Lassie, dear Lassie, my model of canine grace,

Saving grandpa from that mine shaft, what a race!

Rin Tin and Airbud, oh how they shone,

Snoopy, that smug dog, his charm never gone.

But now, in the 21st century, a grandpuppy has come,

A blend of beagle, pug, and a touch of Old Yeller’s gumption.

Watching stress-reducing videos on YouTube,

Meeting rodents in the forest, the views reaching 13 million, oh how true!

His bones, oh what a vast array,

No longer just bovine, they come in every flavor and day.

Rawhide, nylon, rubber, antler, oh what a delight,

Calcium phosphate, magnesium, salt-poor, salt-rich, what a sight!

Improved mouth health, jaw strength, tartar removal, all for the taking,

Supplemental vitamins and minerals, turning a dog into a Kennel Club sensation.

A Frisbee, an old treasure, the grandpup found,

But a new one from Amazon, a Kong, we quickly found.

Durability and universal love of dogs, oh what a claim,

Over the desiccated Portuguese Man o Wars, our pup was not the least bit tame.

Doggie health insurance, oh how grand,

Medicare coverage at 65/7, that’s a plan!

But what of fame and fortune, oh what can a pup do,

Hollywood is not the only path, I never knew.

Dog entrepreneurs, with their grooming and accessories galore,

Supporting animal shelters and having patents and trademarks to adore.

Manny The Frenchie, with a non-profit and a net worth of a million,

Walter Geoffrey, with his clothing line and sass, and a rap album in the making, how thrilling!

Loki The Wolfdog, co-founder of a travel app and a movie deal with Netflix,

Tuna, the Instagram celebrity, with an overbite that always smiles, and a book deal with Penguin Random House to fix.

Opportunities are endless, for the new century pup,

With improved nutrition, emotional adjustment, and love, they can really strut.

If only our grandpup would watch that instructional video on Frisbee catching,

The next Super Bowl halftime show, he’ll be ready, dispatching.

The New Yorker Style

As a proud retro dog lover, I was content with the basics: gravy train, kibble, an old soup bone, and a shag rug for a faux dog bed. My 20th century pup had it made. Lassie was the epitome of canine responsibility (Timmy: “Lassie, grandpa fell into the abandoned mine shaft again, go get help) and Rin Tin Tin and Airbud oozed star power. And let’s not forget Snoopy, with his smug confidence radiating from the daily comics.

But my recent encounter with a 21st-century pup shattered my nostalgic bubble. Baby-sitting my grandpuppy, a 9-month-old Orlando Rescue pup, I watched in amazement as he relaxed while watching a stress-reducing YouTube video of a Labrador retriever strolling through a verdant forest meeting a variety of rodents. This channel had 13 million views, although it wasn’t clear if they were the human or canine type.

And then there was the bone aisle at Petco – a cornucopia of choices that made choosing a variant of Pinot Noirs from multiple continental terroirs seem easy. Rawhide, nylon, rubber, antler versus bovine, calcium phosphate, magnesium, salt poor and rich and anti-oxidants. Bacon and cheese flavors could be added for those picky “chewers.” The packaging touted improved mouth health, jaw strengthening, tartar removal, improved oral microbiome, fresh breath, and supplemental vitamins and minerals that could turn your dog into an American Kennel Club icon.

Our grandpup discovered an old Frisbee in the closet which he immediately bonded with. But thanks to the mass of dog owners and capitalist ingenuity, I found Kong – a natural rubberized Frisbee that had nearly 27 thousand 4 1/2/5 star reviews touting its durability and universal love of dogs for this flying disc. I ordered it on Amazon and it arrived seemingly a few hours later. Our pup was bouncing after it on the sand and over the desiccated, beached Portuguese Man o’ Wars on the South Florida shores. And with top-notch “doggie” health insurance, he had no worries about jellyfish envenomation. I couldn’t help but wonder – at what age would he be converted to Medicare coverage? 65 years? 7? The thought amused me.

But wait, there’s more. Who knew that dogs have become entrepreneurs and started their own businesses? Grooming, training, accessories, food, and treats are just a few of the products and services offered. And some dogs even have patents or trademarks for their inventions or innovations. Manny The Frenchie (@manny_the_frenchie) not only runs a non-profit organization that supports animal shelters but also has a net worth of $1 million. Walter Geoffrey (@waltergeoffreythefrenchie) sells his own line of clothing and accessories that feature his signature sass and has a rap album coming out soon. And Loki The Wolfdog (@loki) co-founded a travel app called Loki The Wolfdog that lets you explore the world with your furry friend and has a movie deal with Netflix. Dog influencers populate the internet and often have more subscribers than humans. Tuna (@tunameltsmyheart), an Instagram celebrity, has a distinctive overbite that makes him look like he’s always smiling and also has a book deal with Penguin Random House.

So the opportunities are endless for the modern-day pooch. With improved nutrition, better emotional adjustment, and plenty of love, our grandpup can be the best dog he can be. If only I can get him to watch the YouTube instructional video on Frisbee.

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Media Distortion Syndrome: The Baby Boomer Edition

It was 1963, the Yankees were swept by the Dodgers in the World Series, the Kennedy assassination was to be a month later and the Jetsons were on network TV. My upstairs neighbor, a wise old soul, a year ahead of me in 5th grade, casually predicted the future as he was downing his second Twinkie. “By 2000, all of the Jetsons things will be there for us.” The flying cars, the robot maids, the vacuum transport to Europe and the 2 day work week. 

Fast forward to New Years Eve, 2000 as I anxiously turned on the TV to watch the Times Square Ball drop to usher in the new millennium. Car commercials came on, all terrestrial vehicles, United Airlines ads promising low fares to Europe at subsonic speed and no robots in sight in my Southern California home. How could Joel, my upstairs neighbor, be so wrong?  A case of media distortion syndrome, baby boomer edition, no doubt. 

Social media is replete with opinions and conspiracies that pass as truth and shape our world today.  My generation, spared from the early influence of the internet, was a product of broadcast television. The three networks (CBS, ABC and NBC) and local New York City stations, WNEW channel 5 and WPIX, channel 11, raised us through the ‘50s and 60’s and shaped our proclivities, biases and sense of reality. Through the writer’s scripts, we were raised on the magical, the ingenuity of the white male, the geological time slips, bigotry-lite, and anthropomorphisms. Here is a sampling of television education gone wrong:

  1. The Magical
    1. Bewitched: A corporate advertising executive who marries a witch that can twitch her nose and change reality.
    2. I Dream of Jeannie: An astronaut finds a magic lamp and releases an attractive genie who alters reality and discombobulates authority.
    3. The Flying Nun: Self explanatory.
  2. Ingenuity and Family Glue: The White Male
    1. Family Affair: A wealthy, N.Y.  bachelor engineer becomes surrogate father to two prepubescent 6 year olds and a female teenager, assisted by his English valet. No problem!
    2. Bachelor Father: Bachelor attorney adopts his adolescent niece and live happily ever after. 
    3. Sky King: Rancher and aviator raises his niece and extricates her from all sorts of perils.
    4. My Three Sons: Widowed engineer raises three sons with the help of his father-in-law and later invites his daughter-in-law to live with the extended family. No problem!
  1. Geological Mayhem
    1. The Flintstones: Stone age family lives in Bedrock with their pet sauropod dinosaur. Humans: Pleistocene epoch, Dinosaurs: died in Late Cretaceous: 65 million year gap; a rounding error to the networks.
    2. The Jetsons: Flying cars, humanized robots and push button jobs but no physicists consulting on the show..
  2. Anthropomorphisms
    1. Mister Ed: A debonair horse who only talks to his owner and has an egotistical streak.
    2. The People’s Choice: Politician’s basset hound makes wise cracks about the hi jinx experienced by his owner.
    3. My Mother the Car: Self Explanatory.
  3. Bigotry-Lite
    1. The Real McCoys: An Appalachian grandfather moves with his grandson, and his family to cast aspersions on California natives. Starring  Walter Brennan, a John Birch Society member and avowed racist. 
    2. All in the Family: A Queens cabdriver, Archie
      Bunker, spins prejudice at home but his persona softened by his work ethic and his financial and housing support of his liberal son-in-law.
    3. The Beverly Hillbillies: Appalachian family moves to California where rich, wealthy Californians belittle the rural immigrants. A mirror image of The Real McCoys.

What we digested from those 3 networks and local feeds was entertainment to some and truth and dogma to others. Twitch your nose, rub a lamp, consult your single male engineer/attorney about child rearing or converse with your horse or your loquacious canine and prepare for a blissful life.  As to our current world, with each more outrageous conspiracy theory espoused on cable and social media, the Senate ready to discuss disenfranchisement of  millions of voters I can only shake my head and utter the insightful and comforting words of an equine star of yesteryear, “Oh Wilbur.”