Color my world

The post you’re reading now was composed on Wednesday evening of the previous week—and before I begin, I apologize to everyone who may have already been clued into this news (I talked about it on Facebook…but not everyone in the TDOY faithful is into the whole [anti]social media thing); an article that I read at the MeTV website sort of planted the seed of inspiration, and I knew I needed to cobble together something fast and economical because of the weekend busyness.

Back about this same time last year, I mentioned that our DISH network system started carrying WGTA (channel 32), a local TV station in Toccoa (the “GTA” stands for “Greenville to Atlanta”) …and because WGTA’s programming consisted of the substations Heroes & Icons (32.1), Decades (32.2), and Movies! (32.3), our DISH had the full Heroes & Icons lineup—a rarity in the world of DISH, since they don’t usually carry substations.  In January of this year, there was an announcement that MeTV would be available on our DISH Channel 32 starting March 25, because WSB-TV—which originally carried MeTV as a substation—had dropped it, switching to Escape.  (And not the good kind—“designed to free you from the four walls of today.”)  The addition of MeTV as a WGTA substation meant all the other substations moved down a peg in terms of OTA (off the air)—Heroes & Icons is now 32.2, Decades 32.3, and so on.

The news that MeTV would once again be available in the House of Yesteryear was, as you may have guessed, warmly welcomed; sure, I experienced a small amount of initial disappointment (I was only a handful of episodes from a complete collection of Broken Arrow) that gave way to me being extremely jazzed because MeTV offers a good deal more variety in their classic TV programming.  (Also, too; I would gain access to reruns of Our Miss Brooks and 77 Sunset Strip—two series not yet released to DVD.)  I’m not happy that these shows are heavily edited in order to cram in the commercials my father constantly bitches about…but a thirsty man never turns down a glass of water.  I’m not joking about the ads on MeTV, by the way; I tried to persuade His Lairdship to start watching Gunsmoke on MeTV at 1pm EDT weekdays because they show two of the half-hour episodes back-to-back and he’s seen all of the color hour-long episodes they run on TVLand at that same hour.  (He claims he hasn’t…but this is incorrect, because I’m usually in the living room with him and I know I have.)  He gave up after one thirty-minute episode.  “Too many commercials,” he griped.  (I’ve been away from TVLand too long—I was not aware they were now ad-free.)

The amusing thing about MeTV is that on their current schedule, they run back-to-back episodes of The Andy Griffith Show at 8pm EDT weekdays (7pm EDT Sundays)—but only in selected areas.  If they’re running TAGS on another station in your viewing area, MeTV substitutes those reruns with…wait for it…Mayberry R.F.D.  (“Every time I think I’m out—they pull me back in!”)  Now comes an announcement that the network is going to work the TAGS episodes from 1965-68 into the rotation.  That’s right.  The color episodes.  The Mayberrys That Dare Not Speak Their Name.

I know many people—I think we even heard from them in the comments section when I was doing the Mayberry Mondays posts—who will not only refuse to watch The Andy Griffith Show in color…they vehemently deny the period ever existed.  And I get this—I really do.  There are a lot of TAGS episodes from the color era—a lot of episodes—that clearly illustrate that sitcom was running on fumes once Don Knotts said “I’m off like a prom dress.”  I think Don’s departure is the chief explanation for the hostility toward the Mayberry color era—replacing the Barney Fife character (even though Knotts returned on several occasions in a guest-star capacity) with that doofus played by Jack Burns was an idiotic decision that would not be equaled until they rolled out New Coke.  And I say this as a guy who likes Jack Burns…I just believe his "Warren Ferguson" was not a good fit where Mayberry was concerned, and in the MeTV article (“The Color Seasons of ‘The Andy Griffith Show’ are Great and Here’s Why”) the author amusingly notes “the character only appears in 11 episodes before mysteriously vanishing to wherever Chuck Cunningham went.”

The article makes some good arguments…and some not-so-good.  Their first bullet point, “Howard Sprague is a wonderfully milquetoast character,” is the strongest argument they could make (I’m going to assume that’s why it was first); it’s no accident that, as I have stated in the past, Howard is usually at the center of the one laugh-out-loud moment in every episode of Mayberry R.F.D.…and the subject of that show’s funnier episodes (“The Panel Show,” “The Caper,” “The Mynah Bird,” etc.).  My fellow Facebook denizens and I discussed this article a bit, with many of MeTV's points greeted with all the enthusiasm of drinking warm beer.  I believe it was Andrew “Grover” Leal who had his flabber gasted at #4, “Road Trips”—personally, I didn’t have a problem when Andy, Opie, and Aunt Bee made the trek to Hollywood…because if it was good enough for Lucy and Ricky Ricardo, it was good enough for the Taylors.

The only item on the MeTV list that found me searching for where in my skull my eyes had rolled to was #7, “Aunt Bee Gets to Do a Lot More.”  Mr. Leal persuasively argues: “[They] were trying too hard to fill the ‘Barney does something wacky’ gap,” and I have to agree (while at the same time believing “The Mayberry Chef” to be one of the stronger final season episodes).  I might be persuaded to side with MeTV if I stopped to consider that with every “wacky” Aunt Bee installment that meant less time spent with Mayberry’s resident fix-it savant and wife-batterer, Emmett Clark.  As I told Facebook chum Jason Beard: “…I have stared into the R.F.D. abyss, and I know that even on its worst color-saturated day TAGS was better.”

I think that last part might be the number one reason I’m not as filled with revulsion with a color Mayberry as some.  You see (this is the portion of the blog where I tell a sad childhood story—please, no tears), we didn’t get a color TV set until 1976.  Mayberry was always in black-and-white when I was a kid.  Sure, some of town’s residents either vanished (Otis, Ernest T.) or moved away (Barney, Floyd), but for the younger Ivan, that sleepy little North Carolina hamlet remained in its monochromatic state until the day my father decided that color TV was no longer a fad and was here to stay.  (Yes, he never misses an opportunity to ride me about my love of black-and-white TV shows and movies—completely missing the irony that my childhood might have had something to do with that.)

So bring on the color episodes of The Andy Griffith Show, MeTV.  The channel is also running announcements of the return of Rhoda (yay!) and Remington Steele (snore) …I just hope this isn’t going to interfere with my burgeoning Our Miss Brooks collection.

Crime Does Not Pay #1: “Buried Loot” (01/19/35)

In Selected Short Subjects: From Spanky to The Three Stooges (also known as The Great Movie Shorts), author Leonard Maltin remarks on the Crime Does Not Pay series: “Film historian Don Miller has theorized that had the series concentrated on cops-and-robbers type of material, as it did in its initial short, Buried Loot, it would never have achieved the success it did.”  Loot kicked off the long-running two-reel franchise with its premiere in theaters on January 19. 1935, and it features an early leading man role from an actor born Spangler Arlington Brugh—better known to classic movie fans as Robert Taylor.  Bob goes uncredited in this short—but he’s not alone: the MGM Crime Reporter (his handle is “Mac,” and he’s referred to sans the “crime”) is also ignored at the (always reliable) IMDb.

MAC: I’m a man with a message…

“Mail those Christmas packages early, and avoid the rush!”

MAC: It’s my privilege to examine police files and prison records…to interview prominent authorities throughout the country…and bring to you undeniably, proof of the message that “Crime Does Not Pay” …you can’t beat the law…the cards are stacked against you…

Well, that’s certainly a defeatist attitude.  The Reporter introduces us to “Mr. Edward Swain, of the International Bonding Company.”  But Swain is a fictitious person—he’s really an actor named George Irving, previously seen here on the blog in Lady in the Death House (1944).

MAC: Mr. Swain has promised me an incident that will poignantly illustrate…the fact that sometime…somewhere…the criminal always pays…am I right, Mr. Swain?

SWAIN: You certainly are, Mac…

“Now go wait for me in the steam room.”  Swain is ready to tell us a tale: the stirring saga of a young bank teller named Albert Douglas (Taylor), who’s embezzled $200,000 of the Seacoast National Bank’s assets on hand for sh*ts and giggles.  Al has been called onto the carpet by the bank president (Richard Tucker), who understandably takes a rather dim view of these sorts of financial shenanigans.

PRESIDENT: $200,000…you embezzled two-hundred-thousand…and lost it…

“Congratulations, my boy!  Why, if you were only to broaden your scope there’d be a future for you at Goldman-Sachs!”

DOUGLAS: Well, I knew the bank examiners would be here tomorrow, so…I thought I’d better tell you…I knew they’d find it out anyway…

PRESIDENT: But…there’s nothing left…?  Not a cent?

DOUGLAS: No, sir…

PRESIDENT: What did you do with it?

DOUGLAS: What does one usually do with it?  I spent it…

“Hookers and blow, mostly.  Oh, and I bought a comb.”  Al tells the president that he gambled a great deal of it, playing the ponies.  “We always trusted you, Al,” he says sadly.  (I’ll bet Al gets sent to bed without his supper.)

PRESIDENT: Why are you confessing?  Why didn’t you try to get away?

DOUGLAS: And be a fugitive the rest of my life?  No, thank you—I have more sense than that….come on, come on…let’s get it over with…call the police!  I’ve committed a crime, and I’m ready to take my medicine…I’m confessing…

Albert does have more sense than that…because he has a clever plan, as Mr. Swain informs us via voiceover.  You see, Al didn’t spend any of that dough—he’s buried it somewhere in Jersey, and he figures once he does a stretch in the pen for his crime he’ll collect it upon his release and live a life of ease and plenty.  The judge sentences him to a stay in the Grey Bar Hotel for a period between 5-10 years, and Douglas is confident enough to know that if he’s on his very best behavior (eating his vegetables, cleaning his cell regularly, etc.) checkout time will be in five años.

SWAIN (narrating): Douglas was smart…he’d watch his step…he’d become a trusty…and through good behavior the five-year minimum would be all he’d serve…

In the joint, Al befriends a fellow inmate in Louie Rattig (Al Hill).  Pay very close attention to the first syllable in Louie’s surname, because I don’t think this was unintentional in the story by Marty Brooks and screenplay from George B. Seitz (who also directed the short).  (Seitz was an MGM journeyman best known for supervising the misadventures of America’s beloved clan of WASPs in the Andy Hardy series.)

SWAIN (narrating): But time is long in stir…minutes are hours…days seem weeks…

In the memorable words of MISTER Virgil Tibbs: “There's white time in jail and there's colored time in jail.  The worst kind of time you can do is colored time.”  Al Douglas is too Caucasian for colored time, but after two-and-a-half years as a student at Rockpile University, he’s starting to experience cabin fever…and his pal Louie isn’t helping.

DOUGLAS: Hey, why don’t you light somewhere…you give me the jitters…

RATTIG: Aw, shut up…

DOUGLAS: Can’t take it, huh?

RATTIG: It’s easy enough for you to talk…you’ll be gettin’ out in a coupla years…but me—I’ve only done three years of a twelve-year stretch…

DOUGLAS: Well, buck up, Louie…buck up…

“Yeah, buck you, too.”  Louie’s been thinking—he’d like to take advantage of the prison’s “early release” program, a most controversial set of procedures in that its chief component involves crashing out.

RATTIG: Listen, kid…I got a swell idea…I got friends on the outside…they’d do anything for me…

DOUGLAS: Break, huh?  Don’t make me laugh…

RATTIG: No!  On the level!

DOUGLAS: Aw, forget it…nobody breaks out of here—that’s only in storybooks…

“And bad prison movies, like…well, never mind.”

RATTIG: I tell you, Al—if you listen to me, I can…

DOUGLAS: Whaddya gonna do?  Bump a screw?  Get yourself all ready for the hot seat?  Not me…when I go out of here, I’m gonna walk out…

Just like Colonel Robert Hogan.  Seeing that Al isn’t receptive to his escape scheme, Louie changes the subject by asking Douglas what he plans to do when he does get his freedom.  “I’m goin’ straight,” Al tells his convict compadre.

“Straight to a gold mine, I suppose,” cracks Louie.  “Maybe,” is Al’s response.  “I’ll dig up something…somewhere.”

That’s when Louis pulls out what appears to be his specialty: the mind-f**k.  He muses that “five years is a long time,” and that things are not always the same after that span of time.  This observation, along with “nothing stays put,” begins to play on Al’s insecurities, according to narrator Swain.  As part of his prison job of being a trusty, Al has been assigned—along with Louie—to helping another inmate show motion pictures to the population on Friday nights.  As he hands equipment to the projectionist, Douglas looks down a hallway and spots two men—one wearing a clerical collar—with a prison guard entering one of the cells.

RATTIG: You see them two?  They’re the babies I was figurin’ on in that deal I spoke of…if you was only interested…

(Louie turns to go, but Al grabs his shoulder)

DOUGLAS: Maybe I am…spill it!

RATTIG: Listen…the lowdown on this thing is this…

But before Louie can get to the “lowdown,” the projectionist emerges from the booth and interrupts them with “Come on, you two—we’re givin’ a show here, you know.”  Meanwhile, back at the cell:

RATTIG: My friends on the outside are up in the money…and since I’ve been workin’ in the prison post office, it’s a cinch for me to get a letter out to them…now that little guy you seen tonight has got a boy in the death house…he’s goin’ to the hot seat at the end of the month…the other guy is a minister…and every other night they spend an hour with the kid…they got permission…and the screws all know ‘em….they get past, in and out, without any trouble…now my friends can get us some clothes the same as them two are wearing, and a couple of wigs and…

DOUGLAS: Ah, you’re crazy…

Is he?  Or is he so sane he’s blown your own mind?!!  I have to be honest—I have to side with Al on this one, because this is usually the kind of stunt that happens when Lucy wants to perform at the Tropicana and she’s talked Ethel into doing something nutty.  Louie presses upon his cellmate that it’s going to have to be done by the end of the month—either when that prisoner keeps his appointment with “Ol’ Sparky” …or when Louie might be transferred to another section of the prison.

And so, Operation Rejected Three’s Company Plot Idea gets underway.  As the two visitors make their regularly scheduled visit to the Death Row guy, Al and Louie don their disguises—which they hid in a little-noticed room behind the projection area.  (Riiiiiight.)  The first time I watched this short, I didn’t hear Louie mention the part about “a couple of wigs,” so when I saw them in their get-up I asked myself: “Did they get rid of the jute mill and replace it with piecework for Helene Curtis and Max Factor?”  The plan goes as smooth as a duet by Santana with Rob Thomas, as Al and Louie hobble out of the slammah as Grieving Father and the Minister, with Louie’s “friends” awaiting them in a car.

It doesn’t take long for the prison to discover that Al and Louie have flown the coop, and so they start up with the sirens and the police car montage and this thing here…

…which made me chuckle (“They escaped on the same night they elected a new Pope!”).  The driver, Lem (actor uncredited), drops Louie, Al, and another man named George (Brooks Benedict) off at a hideout where they are greeted by two lovely hostesses.  According to the (always reliable) IMDb, the girl peering out of the curtains in this still (later revealed to be Louis’ moll)…

…is Shirley Ross, Bob Hope’s duet partner on Thanks for the Memory in The Big Broadcast of 1938.  The non-Shirley hostess has apparently taken charge of Al’s travel arrangements by securing him tickets to Toronto.  (Toronto?  Seriously?  Well, in light of what happens later in Buried Loot it might not be such an insane idea.)

Swain tells the MGM Reporter that the two men got away “clean as a hound’s tooth” …which isn’t nearly as clever as my earlier simile.  Swain explains that a week later, at a summer resort across the Canadian border, Douglas is making plans to retrieve those buried Jersey funds and that “he had determined that when he left Canada to pick up his stolen funds, no one would know him.”

Hoo boy…I don’t think I like the direction in which this is headed…

Always go with your instincts.  Though I will say, in all fairness, that blowed up real good.  Al’s traveling companions—to them, he’s known as “Doc”—rush to his room and find that he’s had a teensy accident that has resulted in his melting off of his face.  Okay, maybe it’s not that severe…but if you look at the face of one of the women in this screen capture…

…it’s all she can do to keep from screaming: “He’s positively grotesque!”  Al has to undergo plastic surgery, and now you can see why he insisted on Toronto (single-payer health care, baby!).  Sadly, he is no longer the drop-dead gorgeous Robert Taylor later to be seen in Magnificent Obsession (1935) and Camille (1936).  “He was not a pretty sight,” admits Swain in an impressive display of understatement, “but he was safe.  Safe now to go back to the city…to cross the river to Jersey.”  (I’m going to take a wild guess and presume Swain has never been to Jersey.)

Having retrieved his ill-gotten gains, Al Douglas strolls down city streets with his enormous package of $200,000 at his side.  “He had arranged passage to Europe,” Swain informs us…but as Douglas hails a cab to take him to the docks, he’s greeted by two men who greet him as “Doc.”  They’re the same comrades who were with Al during his Toronto accident, and are played by two actors who would later achieve success in B-westerns—James Ellison (in the Hopalong Cassidy series) and Robert Livingston (The Three Mesquiteers).

JIMMY: Doc!  Well, of all things…

BOB: Wow—imagine running into you!

DOUGLAS: Uh…hello, fellas…this…this is a surprise…

JIMMY: Off on another vacation?

DOUGLAS: No…no, I was…just getting back…I’ve been visiting some friends over…over in Jersey…

As the cab pulls up, Al is in a hurry to get in and off to his destination…but his friends decide to ride along with him “for a couple of blocks.”  “It was certainly ironic,” observes Swain. “that with everything set for his final getaway Douglas should run into two of the few people in the world who knew him!”  The two men make small talk with Al as the cab rolls along, and they then ask the driver to pull up to their destination…right next to the Seacoast National Bank.

JIMMY: Say, Doc—stop off here for a minute…I want you to meet these friends of ours…

DOUGLAS: Oh, no…no, I couldn’t do that…you see, I gotta go over…

JIMMY: Bring him along, Bob…

And with that, Bob slaps a pair of handcuffs on Al’s wrists.  He’s understandably perplexed by this treatment, and not too swift on the uptake—he’s obviously been set up, a painful fact that becomes all too clear when he’s hustled into the bank president’s office and sees not only his former boss, but narrator Swain, George, and his old prison chum Louie.

DOUGLAS: Hey, what is this?

RATTIG: A frame, Al…it took a lot of doin’, but you fell…

DOUGLAS: Frame?

RATTIG: Yeah…you don’t suppose it’s really so easy to get out of a state prison as all that, do ya?

Remember, Al?  “Nobody breaks out of here—that’s only in storybooks.”  Oh, if only you had listened to your own sage advice.  To add insult to injury, everybody and his brother was in on what was little more than an arranged bust-out: the old man and the minister, the projectionist, the girls at the hideout—everybody!

PRESIDENT: You see, Douglas…Mr. Swain of the bonding company didn’t believe you squandered the money you stole…

You should have kept the receipts, Al.

PRESIDENT: …your story in court didn’t ring true…he believed that you hid it…and he knew that if you had, you’d go straight to it once you were free…so he arranged with the state to let you escape…you were always in the hands of the police, though—even when you went to Canada…

The cops let him disfigure himself.  Kind of a dick move when you think about it.

PRESIDENT: You’re going back, Douglas…for the full term…and I’m afraid there’ll be no time off for good behavior…not now…

“Look at the bright side—it doesn’t matter how hideous you look…there’ll surely be someone who’ll want to make you his bitch.”  Swain then takes a gloat lap:

SWAIN: …and there you are, Mac…there was a crime that was perfectly planned…does that prove your point?

MAC: I’ll say it does…the poor sap…

Fortunately for that “poor sap,” he’d continue his extraordinary motion picture career with films like Three Comrades (1938), Waterloo Bridge (1940), and Johnny Eager (1941) to his credit…and later on the small screen, hosted Death Valley Days in the 1960s after a successful three-year stint as the star of the TV crime drama The Detectives Starring Robert Taylor (you should look into putting this one on, MeTV!).  Taylor had the Death Valley Days gig until 1969—the year of his death).  Next week: Alibi Racket—g’bye now!

“And now it’s time for another special feature…”

Hello, Thrilling Days of Yesteryear faithful.  Honest Ivan here again...but not to sell you anything.  When the DISH Austerity Program first went into effect in the House of Yesteryear, I was a little crabby…and I may have even whined a little.  (How do I know this?  Well, when about half a dozen people say to me “Will you stop whining, ferchrissake?” that’s a little hard to ignore.)  I had reached a point where I started to sound like Karl Swenson in The Birds: “It’s the end of the world!”

But a month into our whittled-down package…I’m beginning to think that Nietzsche guy was right.  I speculated that when I first announced the DISH news this experience might be a positive one for TDOY, in that such a removal of this distraction might provide the impetus for more prolific blogging.  At the risk of tooting my own piccolo, I have been en fuego in the month of August.  While the ‘rents search in anxiety for something with which to be entertained (Mom is so sick of Dad’s constant watching of MSNBC that I think she’s on board with Giant Meteor in November), I sit smugly in Count Comfy von Chair with my tablet, composing blog post after blog post.  I’m not going to lie to you.  Occasionally, when I get wind that a movie I wanted desperately to see is playing on The Greatest Cable Channel Known to Mankind™, I tear up a little.  But it passes quickly.

This post is going to serve as sort of a guide to the “new” Thrilling Days of Yesteryear—what you can expect in terms of content and such.  Not all of what I write about will appeal to everyone, so if you have an idea of what will appear on the blog on a daily basis you can plan your visits accordingly.  (In a perfect world, of course, you would not only read every utterance you would pledge complete and unwavering fealty to TDOY…but alas, we do not live in such a Utopian existence.)

Mondays – Book reviews.  Again, because I’m under oath—or am I?—I must truthfully admit the few times I reviewed a book here at TDOY in the past is when someone graciously sent me a free copy for the blog.  (No money exchanged hands, I cannot emphasize this enough.  It’s more “quo” than “quid”—if I may indulge in a little pun.)  In most cases, there were books that I paid for myself with TDOY funds simply because it was something I was excited about reading.  Since I invested in the new computer three years ago and it came equipped with Kindle. I have found that it’s relatively inexpensive to build an electronic library if you just keep an eye peeled for book bargains.  (BookBub is a great resource in giving you a heads-up on this.)  So I’m going to make a concerted effort to read more than I have previously (the Kindle allows me to effortlessly sit in Count von Comfy and accomplish this task), and we will see where that takes us.

Tuesdays – It was Todd at Sweet Freedom who first instituted “Overlooked Tuesdays” and in the beginning, I tried my darndest to structure TDOY so that movies that don’t always receive the greatest number of electrons here in the blogosphere would be featured on “Overlooked Films on Tuesdays.”  My track record for participating, sadly, was the very definition of “spotty”; I blame this on the fatigue and ennui I experienced after completing Serial Saturdays and Doris Day(s) on Mondays.  (More on this in a bit.)  Nevertheless, I have seen the light, brother, and am committed to making certain an overlooked motion picture gets its due on Tuesdays, be it an edition of “From the DVR” or “Grey Market Cinema.”

Wednesdays – If you’re going to place a bet in the pool of “Which feature will have the shortest shelf life at TDOY”, this might be the nominee that will pay off big time.  It’s not that I don’t enjoy a good shoot-‘em-up, it’s just that the number of economically-shot oaters in the Dusty Thrilling Days of Yesteryear Archives has diminished in recent years: many of my B-Westerns were relegated to the trash can (I decided about a year-and-a-half ago that I was going to stop recording movies at anything lower than SP speed) and the others wound up on the eBay runway.  I know I’ve got some on hand; it will just require my digging through a—what I call for lack of a better word—“pile” of DVD-R discs.  Still, B-Western Wednesdays is back with a vengeance, baby—so saddle up for some good ol’ rootin’-tootin’ fun (in memory of my dear departed Facebook compadre Lloyd Fonvielle).

Thursdays – Thursdays will be devoted to “silent cinema”; it can take the form of comedy shorts that I’ve acquired over the years (my recent review of Steve Massa’s Lame Brains and Lunatics no doubt inspired this) …or “On the Grapevine,” which spotlights DVDs purchased from Grapevine Video.  There may also be silent films both unknown and well-known tossed into the mix (discs purchased from Flicker Alley and Milestone Films).  And there may be an occasional “talkie” featured as well (I’ve socked away quite a few Alpha DVDs.).

Fridays – It’s Forgotten Noir Fridays!  (Don’t tell me you’ve relegated yesterday’s post to ancient history already.)  VCI Entertainment and Kit Parker Films’ acclaimed DVD series will be examined on a weekly basis, one movie at a time.  By the way, I made a lulu of a boo-boo yesterday in my review of I’ll Get You: according to friend of TDOY/film historian Richard M. Roberts, the Lippert film library was never “orphaned.”  “Robert Lippert Sr. sold the rights to those films to the Weiss Brothers in the early 60's, where Weiss Global International kept them in perpetual television syndication into the early 80's,” Richard wrote me in an e-mail.  “When Adrian Weiss passed away in the early 00's, the rights and materials to the Lipperts and all other surviving Weiss product was sold to Kit Parker, who has made them available ever since through VCI.”  I am so grateful that Richard is around to keep me honest.

I’ve made the decision that with the exception of an occasional post (like this one) or the announcement of swag to give away, weekends will be kind of quiet here at TDOY.  (Hey, I have book reports to write.)  Which means that Serial Saturdays will be retired (though I had two chapters left in The Black Widow—if I can locate the DVD I’ll try to wrap those up) and as for Doris Day(s)…well, again—a little honesty is in order.  I have to watch these episodes in order to transcribe the dialogue…and then a second time (I generally speed this up if I’m in a hurry) for the screen grabs.  I just don’t have the intestinal fortitude for this anymore (and my recent diabetes diagnosis doesn’t help, either—Doris is awful gooey at times).  Maybe if MeTV decides to add it to its schedule (I’ve seen the traffic for Mayberry Mondays shoot up since they started airing RFD reruns, and I think I thank them for that) I may apply some paddles but for now you’ll just have to settle for memories of Leroy B. Semple Simpson.  (Andrew “Grover” Leal keeps insisting I’ve lost the Doris DVDs…this is simply not true, though I sometimes wish it were.)

So there you have it: the new Thrilling Days of Yesteryear.  (I feel like I just participated in a network upfront.)  Enjoy the rest of your weekend, and meet me back here Monday.

The state of the blog (with fabulous prizes!)

It seems like every time I return to the blog after an extended absence I always find myself profusely apologizing for that absence.  So I won’t ignore tradition, and I’ll get the act of contrition out of the way: mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.

The disappearance of posts for over two months can be attributed to a number of factors…but chiefly among them is that I have been sidelined with a lack of motivation.  A few years back, I made a casual observation that with the onslaught of the social media phenomenon, the art of blogging was in danger of being threatened; platforms like Facebook and Twitter allow individuals to accomplish pretty much the same as a blog post without having to expend a great deal of energy.  (And for someone like me—who has raised inactivity and laziness to an art form—it’s a siren song that’s mighty hard to resist.)

I don’t want to sell myself short, however: I’ve kept in the game with both blogging for Radio Spirits and my “Where’s That Been?” column at ClassicFlix…so don’t pour salt on this slug just yet.  But both of these (plus the lucrative liner note projects for RS) do keep me occupied—here’s an example: I had wanted to contribute to the Classic Film and TV Café’s “National Classic Movie Day” blogathon in May…but that event coincided with my wrapping up some liner notes for a Green Hornet set (which you should check out—it contains a number of uncirculated episodes), and when I completed that I was just too wiped to work on anything else.  (So a “mea culpa” to friend Rick for bailing on that.)

As such, until I can get back into the swing of blogging again, this post will be a “catch-up” on the comings and goings here at Rancho Yesteryear.  As the cliché goes—there’s good news and bad news.  The jubilant bulletin is that my sister Kat and her family have relocated to North Carolina (after spending the past three years in the Pacific Northwest); stemming from the fact that her partner has obtained gainful employment in the Piedmont.  To say that my mother did cartwheels (and with her recent back surgery, this was a revelation) at these developments would be an understatement, since she has missed her grandson so.

To a dee-luxe apartment in the sky.

Speaking of my nephew, he has just returned from a two-week engagement at summer camp…where it appears that every photo of him taken during that experience found him participating in some sort of water activity.  (I joked to his moms that they might want to check between his fingers and toes for webbing.)  He talked non-stop for two hours on the drive home to the new Double K Ranch, then crashed hard in the last hour.  Davis has also apparently developed a taste for Cheerwine, the bubbly cherry soda concoction that has been a regional favorite since 1917 (though it can also be purchased in other sections of the U.S. of A.)

Sister Kat hasn’t made the complete transition to NC yet; she will finish up her camp director duties for the summer and then…quien sabe?  Seriously—Mom asked her what her plans were and Kat replied: “I don’t know…but at least my hair will be perfect.”  (This is a reference to the fact that during her sojourn in the PNW, she searched high and low for a decent haircut; she missed the stylist in Athens who maintained her perfect coif, and now will have the opportunity to continue her patronage since the salon is a little closer to her new address.)

Sadly, into every life a little rain must fall.  (This is the “bad news” portion of the post, so if you want to skip the next seven paragraphs to get to the swag giveaway I won’t think any less of you.)  Los Parentes Yesteryear and I just recently celebrated our first year anniversary of moving to Pixley Winterville, and the latest bill from DISH confirmed what we had been dreading for some time: they are raising the rate on our service.  (Gigantically, as character veteran Don Barclay might say.)  Since the ‘rents and I are all subsisting on what is often referred to as “fixed incomes,” there just wasn’t going to be any way of reconciling such an increase in the family budget.  (I have railed about this in the past, as you may well be aware, but it bears repeating: both the cable TV and satellite companies are staffed with human-weasel hybrids.)

I only wish mi padre had let me conduct the negotiations with DISH, which occurred this past Saturday; I had previously done some first-rate horse trading with AT&T U-Verse when they wanted to spike our TV bill (though for reasons that I to this day can’t figure out they kept our monthly service the same once we agreed to put in an extra phone line…that we never, ever used).  But unfortunately, once my father gets on the phone, he’s transformed into one of those unpleasant old men constantly yelling at kids to stay off his lawn.  (No offense, Bill.)  He wound up cutting our TV package to the bare bone, and the two most important casualties were getTV and The Greatest Cable Channel Known to Mankind™.

I’m not going to lie to you.  I was a little pouty at this news.  (Okay, more like a lot pouty.)  I realize that “living high on the hog,” TV wise, is not a viable option for the Yesteryear Trio, but as I explained to Mom once I had finished a few stiff belts: we don’t have too many entertainment options here in B.F.E.  The only other service available to us (we’re too far out for cable, and U-verse doesn’t service our area either) is DirecTV, and they’re an even bigger band of pirates.  At the time I signed us up, I took special pains to explain to her that DISH was probably going to gouge us once the year was out.  She told me—“What else can we do?  We have to have an Internet connection, and we have to have cable.”  (A lot can happen in a year, I guess.)

My Facebook pal Kingo Gondo suggested sometime back that I look into the option of getting an outside antenna so that I could receive those substations DISH refuses to carry (MeTV, Antenna TV, etc.).  I looked into this seconds after I found out about Dad’s DISH dealings.  Helpfully, the website at which I was pricing the antenna directed me to another website that would let me know what stations we would receive.  They ask you: “Will this antenna be installed 30 feet above ground level?”

Since I wanted to avoid those hassles (I had planned on getting an indoor one) I didn’t check that box…and when I pressed the “send” button, I learned that we would only be able to receive one channel.  Okay, says I, I’ll try it again—maybe I can con someone into installing the antenna outside.  “Send.”  The answer remained…one channel.  That station is WGTA, our Heroes & Icons affiliate…which we get on DISH already.

I probably would have taken this news a little better—oh, who am I kidding; I’m a TCM junkie, and I remember the days when we didn’t have it…they were dark ones indeed—were it not for the fact that most of the crap my father watches (local news, History Channel, MSDNC) remained intact in the whittled-down package.  What a coinky-dink!  (The ‘rents did lose their beloved Braves games…though an occasional contest will show up on ESPN and “Big Fox” every now and then.  To say that my mother was pissed doesn’t even begin to cover it, though.  (Earlier today, my father switched over to TVLand—as is his habit—to watch Gunsmoke reruns and then remembered we said hasta la vista to that channel as well.)

Because I had a little time this weekend to reflect on these developments, I came away with the take that while I’m not jumping for joy at how all this turned out (particularly since I was helping out a few cable/satellite-deprived folks by grabbing and burning to disc programs/movies that had attracted their interest) perhaps there is a silver lining on all this.  After all, it’s not like I’m starved for entertainment around here.  I already socked away a lot of Tee Cee Em/getTV programming on the DVR (I think the gauge was at 49 percent), so there’s that to get through…and I have what scientists have measured as a metric “buttload” of material in the dusty Thrilling Days of Yesteryear archives.  I’m not humblebragging, you understand—it’s just that a lot of these DVDs have yet to be liberated from their shrink wrap; that’s how terrible my habit is.  I’ve been meaning to get the blog up and running again, so this might provide a much needed kick-in-the-pants.

So to celebrate the return of the blog (okay—everybody back to the post!) how about I give out some Radio Spirits freebies?  Back in August of last year, I was tapped to do the liner notes for Suspense at Work—a 10-CD collection of broadcasts from “radio’s outstanding theatre of thrills.”  The shows in this set all have a common theme: they’re set against a background of the workplace, where ambitious individuals resort to murderous mayhem to get ahead in the company…or the mundane monotony of punching a time clock is interrupted by robberies, embezzlement, etc.  You can always count on Suspense for first-rate radio drama, and some of the stars gracing these broadcasts include Bonita Granville, Edmund O’Brien, Ann Blyth, Van Heflin, Ronald Colman, and Richard Widmark.  (I’m partial to “To None a Deadly Drug,” a nail-biter from October 25, 1955 that features OTR veterans like Harry Bartell, Jack kruschen, Barbara Eiler, and Eve McVeagh.)

It’s been 2-3 months since I did a giveaway here at TDOY…so the usual “thirty-day rule” won’t apply here.  What will apply is that if you’d like an opportunity to win one of these sets (I have two to hand out) just drop me an e-mail with “Suspense at Work” in the subject header (that way I know your intentions are honorable, suh, and you’re not some bit of spam from the wrong side of the tracks) at igsjrotr(at)gmail(dot)com.  The deadline for this contest will be 11:59pm EDT next Monday, July 18; I will select two winners via the all-powerful numbers generator at Random.org and inform them of their good fortune so that they can provide me with snail-mail details (so that I might send their swag on its way).  Remember, faithful readers—Thrilling Days of Yesteryear is the phrase that pays!