Author: Kiki Writes

Rerun Junkie Episodes–“The Peace Pipe”

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If you’ve never watched Emergency!, you should. It’s a fun show with a lot of daring rescues and medical drama. It also features a frenemy relationship between paramedic John Gage and firefighter Chet Kelly. These two know how to get on each other’s nerves and many times take delight in doing so, usually with Chet acting as the thorn in Johnny’s side.

In the season 2 episode “Peace Pipe”, Chet spends the episode aggravating Johnny about his Native American heritage.

While you could easily dismiss this episode as Chet just being annoyingly racist (in fact, John does call him a bigot at one point), what you cannot dismiss is that Johnny effectively destroys all of Chet’s stereotypes, something that really hadn’t been done much at the time.

When this episode aired in October of 1972, Gunsmoke was in its 18th season and Bonanza in its 14th and final season, two popular Westerns that had spent decades depicting Native Americans as either noble savages or just plain savages, but either way, something less than white men and their much more progressive ways. At the same time, Hec Ramsey was just beginning its Sunday Night Mystery Movie rotation run. The show centers on a lawman at the turn of the 20th century using the latest techniques to solve crimes. Innovative, but the depiction of Native Americans was largely the same as it had been. Emergency! directly ran against another Western at the time the episode aired, Alias Smith and Jones. So, the TV viewing audience knew well the depiction of Native Americans in Westerns back in the olden days, but their exposure to contemporary Native Americans was limited.

Enter Johnny Gage. Not only was the character Native American (as is the actor Randolph Mantooth), but he was a Native American in the now. He wasn’t living on the reservation, but he’d grown up there. He wasn’t some noble savage, but he had a deep respect and honor for his heritage and traditions. For the most part, his life didn’t differ that much from your average, everyday white guy. Instead of being some distant “other” locked into a specific long-ago time, he was an actual person existing in the present.

The whole back and forth between Johnny and Chet starts with Chet going on about the historical significance of a Western they’d just watched. According to Johnny, however, the whole film is nothing but propaganda to make white guys feel more comfortable and ignores that they were land-grabbing treaty-breakers. Chet does us all the disservice of warning Johnny that his “hot Indian blood is beginning to boil” before letting Johnny know that he’s got some Native blood, too. When Johnny correctly guesses that it was a Cherokee princess on his mother’s side, he tells Chet that they call it White Man Royalty Syndrome.

Later Chet asks Johnny why he left the reservation since according to the anthropologist he’s reading, it’s suppose to be “against his cultural instincts to leave the tribal environment.” Johnny then enlightens Chet on the nature of anthropologists. When he was growing up, they’d come to the reservation to observe them in order to prove whatever their latest theories were, get federal grants to write their books, and then do it all again the next year. Chet, of course, defends the scientists, in particular the one he’s reading. As it turns out, Johnny knows him. He spent ten years and five and a half million dollars studying how to eliminate a tribe’s poverty problems, pointing out that if a small portion of that money had been given to that tribe, they wouldn’t have the poverty problem to begin with.

Chet decides to apologize for joking around about Johnny’s Native heritage and swears no more jokes about it, which Roy protests because he likes a good joke. As John and Roy argue about Johnny’s perceived sensitivity, Chet again wants to apologize, this time for putting friend against friend. He then produces a peace pipe and says they should smoke. This time Johnny tells him it’s not funny and walks away.

In a final act, Chet apologizes for making a joke about the peace pipe, while holding a fire ax adorned with a feather. He then proposes a treaty, which Johnny scoffs at. This last bit is interrupted by an emergency (because that is the name of the show) in which the firefighters and paramedics have to retrieve an injured and unconscious man from a bit of scaffolding as a sniper shoots at them. Johnny gets the idea to use a tarp to help conceal them as they rescue the man. Back at the firehouse, he explains to Chet that it was Native instinct because everyone knows how much they love blankets, effectively ending the prodding from Chet because it’s only fun if Johnny isn’t in on the joke.

The real joke, though, is how even today the history of indigenous people is still white washed and their lives stereotyped. But at least for an episode in 1972, some harsh light was thrown on it.

***

Sadly, Tim Donnelly died suddenly September 17th. A Jack Webb show frequent flyer, he turned up on Dragnet and Adam-12 several times, including two memorable stints on Dragnet, one of which saw him don a super hero costume and another featured him as the pot-smoking father of a child who later dies of neglect and scarred me for life as a kid. He also often turned up in things directed by his brother Dennis, including the film The Toolbox Murders. And he was pitch perfect as the sometimes annoying, sometimes obsessive Chet Kelly.

Station 51 won’t be the same without him.

May he have safe travels beyond the horizon.

Book ’em, Danno–Episode 27

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Welcome to Season Three!

Wo Fat is back in “…And a Time to Die”. In “Trouble in Mind”, Nancy Wilson is singing more blues than jazz.

We’re gifted with Gerald O’Loughlin’s last appearance in the series, being an absolute thorn in the side of Jack Lord as a State Department Prick.

Also, if you do enjoy music, there’s a lot of it in this episode. I was very liberal with the song sound clips. After all Nancy Wilson is a Grammy winner and it shows.

Tune in on Soundcloud, iTunes, Spotify, and Stitcher.

Listen and enjoy.

And enjoy this picture of our favorite Wo Fat, the adorable Ellen, and the pants I desperately wish came in fat women’s size.

***

Sadly, 2021 has not been kind to the Hawaii Five-O ‘ohana.

In early July, we lost William Smith, who joined the cast in Season 12 as Det. James “Kimo” Carew.

And just recently, on September 21st, we lost Al Harrington, who appeared on the show five times as different characters before joining the cast as Ben Kokua in Season 5. He also had a recurring role as Mamo Kahike on the 2010 reboot.

We’ll be seeing Al Harrington a couple of times in Season 3. In fact, the day I heard of his passing, I was scheduled to record an episode he was in. I’m heartbroken to say the least.

May both men have safe travels beyond the horizon.

Aloha.

kimoben

Rerun Junkie Episodes–Lysistrata, The Patriarchy, and Gilligan’s Island

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As I mentioned in my post about educational television, I learned about Lysistrata thanks to Gilligan’s Island.

In a first season episode titled “St. Gilligan and the Dragon”, Mrs. Howell invokes Lysistrata to kick off a battle of the sexes. While the play had the women refuse the men sex, a 1960s sitcom couldn’t get away with that sort of raciness (it could barely handle women’s navels) and instead had the women refuse to do anything for the men.

The women move to a different part of the island and predictably, the men can’t hack it doing women’s work while the women get along just fine. Do the men realize the error of their ways and go to the women to apologize? Of course not. Instead, they come up with a plan to scare the women into needing their help through a dragon-type monster they some how made from paper mâché. The women stumble onto their plan and meet the monster with force (led by Mrs. Howell, who remarks with a joyful viciousness, “We’ll kill it and send its head back to the men!”).

In the end, the women are scared back to the men due to a downed weather balloon that’s billowing in the jungle like some weird, large lady bug looking caterpillar whatsit. Gilligan “kills” it, and kills a chance for rescue. Because after all, Gilligan ruining their chances to ever return to civilization is the theme of the show.

As a kid watching it, I was like, “Wow, these guys are dumb. The girls shouldn’t be scared!”

As an adult watching it I’m like, “Wow, these guys are dumb. The girls shouldn’t be scared!”

Yes, the words are the same, but the tone is different. When I was a kid, I thought it was funny. Run-of-the-mill sitcom tomfoolery. Today, it’s still funny, but in the “oh sweet Mary, this shit is ridiculous” kind of way.

In true sitcom fashion, the men absolutely go to pieces without the women. The implication is, of course, that they’d never had to lower themselves to learn “women’s work”, which is a little baffling considering that Skipper, Gilligan, and the Professor are bachelors. How the hell did any of them survive? I suppose the answer is barely because attempting to do it in the face of some adversity is a complete disaster. Mary Ann can make a coconut cream pie, but these men can’t cook a fish without turning it to ash.

And then there’s an extended fantasy sequence in which they all imagine the women doting on them and needing them.

I’ve come to view this episode as a glorious illustration of the patriarchy. The men believe they deserve to be worshiped simply for being men, but in reality, they would have starved to death without the women. The men are incapable of taking care of their own basic needs because it’s somehow considered unmanly to do so. They’re entitled to be catered to by the women because of reasons. Meanwhile, a woman’s request is framed as nagging. They’re unreasonable and emotional and they can’t survive without the men to protect and provide for them, except that they pretty much do. In fact, in the day to day, the women are the ones keeping this clownshow from going full Lord of the Flies circus.

And so, their progress and independence has to be undermined in the most absurd way: by scaring them with a monster. Sitcom logic, to be sure, but it could just as easily be seen as a metaphor for the big, bad world that could easily devour the women alive. After all, that’s a man’s role: to protect women. Never mind the fact that the monsters are usually men. Kind of like the men pretending to be a rogue dragon from a Chinese New Year celebration. The men create the problem and then the men “solve” it.

Just think. If it hadn’t been for that downed weather balloon, the men might have actually had to apologize.

Rerun Junkie Confession–I Don’t Love Lucy

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I know this is probably one of my most controversial television opinions and I may subject myself to mobs of people with torches and pitchforks, but I must speak my truth.

I don’t care for I Love Lucy.

Now, let me cut you off before you start trying to burn me at the stake as a witch. Nothing about my dislike of the show in anyway denies its place in history nor Lucille Ball’s contribution to comedy, television, or women’s history. I recognize all of that. She was a brilliant, creative, pioneering woman who deserves all of the accolades she gets. Nothing about this post contradicts that.

I just don’t like the show.

I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that much of the humor (at least in the episodes that I have watched) is embarrassment humor, which is my least favorite. I suffer from second-hand embarrassment so easily that I can’t find any humor in watching fictional characters endure those situations. It’s just not funny to me.

The character of Lucy is also kind of annoying. Her obsession with being a performer despite having little talent grates after a while. She’s always scheming and plotting and for me, it’s tiring. Her ineptness loses its charm quickly. Though I’ve watched other shows in which I didn’t care for the main character, I can’t make the exception here. Lucy is just too much for me to get past.

The physical comedy is amazing, though; I won’t argue that. I do have much appreciation of that.

But it’s not enough to get me interested in the show. Or to be willing to give it another chance. The feeling of irritation that lingers on my nerves from the times I have watched the show is too strong to overcome. It’s a Pavlovian reaction of annoyance that makes me turn the channel.

One last thing that might quell the mob coming for my head…

I’m not a big fan of sitcoms in general anyway. My humor is better found in action shows with witty one-liners. So, don’t think I’m singling out I Love Lucy as being the only sitcom I’ve ever watched that I didn’t like.

It’s actually in very good company.

Rerun Junkie Show–Magnum PI

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During one magical, syndicated summer I was fortunate to have one channel spending a couple of hours every afternoon playing Magnum PI and Simon & Simon back-to-back. Talk about a lucky kid.

One day I’ll revisit latter, but for now, let’s talk about the former.

As the story goes, the 1980 series partially got the green light because they wanted to capitalize on the Hawaii production that Hawaii Five-O was leaving behind after ending a successful twelve year run in April of that year. And capitalize they did with a successful eight year run of Magnum PI (as another story goes, Jake and the Fatman was saved from cancellation by relocating the show to Hawaii in order to save CBS from leasing an empty studio; when the lease was up, the show moved back to LA). It was hinted that the shows shared a universe, as there were a few McGarrett references in the early seasons, though Jack Lord declined to cameo as he’d retired. From a slick, be-suited state police task force to an aloha shirt wearing private dick.

Thomas Magnum (Tom Selleck) is a former Navy special ops and NIA intelligence officer making his living as a private investigator and living at the estate of Robin Masters, much to the annoyance of major domo Jonathan Higgins (John Hillerman) and his lads, dobermans Zeus and Apollo. Magnum is aided in his cases (and in his life) by his besties and fellow Vietnam vets, chopper pilot Theodore “TC” Calvin (Roger E. Mosley) and gunner-turned-club-manager Orville “Rick” Wright (Larry Manetti). Magnum also cons favors from NIA computer expert Lt. “Mac” MacReynolds (Jeff MacKay, who later returns as Mac’s doppleganger Jim Bonnick in later seasons); assistant district attorney Carol Baldwin (Kathleen Lloyd), though she cons him just as often; Lt. Maggie Poole (Jean Bruce Scott), Mac’s replacement; Francis “Ice Pick” Hofstetler (Elisha Cook Jr.), though those favors were usually asked for by Rick; Doc Ibold (Glenn Cannon); and on rare occasion, Higgins’s fellow Brit Agatha Chumley (Gillian Dobb). Magnum is frequently bedeviled/assisted by HPD Lt. Yoshi Tanaka (Kwan Hi Lim) and he has a major hate hardon for Col. Buck Greene (Lance LeGault), who he holds responsible for keeping him apart from the love of his life, Michelle Hue (Marta DuBois).

Other recurring characters include: Gwen Verdon as Magnum’s mom Katherine Peterson; Eugene Roche as St. Louis PI Luther Gillis (probably my least favorite character because he is so damned annoying, but Eugene Roche is fantastic in the role; he can’t help it that my personality clashes with his character); Clyde Kusatsu as the John Wayne-obsessed HPD Detective Lt. Gordon Katsumoto (he also played a few other characters throughout the show’s run, but I love him unconditionally); Joe Santos as HPD Police Lt. Nolan Page; in later seasons, TC suddenly acquired two mainland children, Martina Stringer as Melody, and Shavar Ross as Bryant, the latter staying with TC for multiple episodes; Fay Hauser as TC’s ex-wife Tina; Deborah Pratt as TC’s girlfriend Gloria; Patrick Bishop as Keoki and Remi Abellira as Moki, two King Kamehameha Club employees; and Phyllis Davis as Rick’s eventual fiancée Cleo Mitchell.

Very much an ’80s action show in most respects, what with the crime-solving and fighting and shootouts and fast cars and witty banter and bedding babes and women characters written by men who didn’t actually know any women, but were just regurgitating the caricatures of women already established by men who’d never met a woman in their lives (yes, this is a sticking point with me because the women tend to be either helpless, annoying, or duplicitous and it’s grating), however, the show was also not afraid to stray from the mundane and into the supernatural (with ghosts, psychics, past lives, and trips to the other side) and didn’t shy away from landing emotional punches.

When it comes to the latter, most people are going to cite “Did You See the Sun Rise?” which saw Magnum and TC revisited by an old friend, Nuzo, who was imprisoned with them in Vietnam by an evil Russian named Ivan (Bo Svenson). The episode put Magnum through the ringer, killing off a friend, putting another one in jeopardy, and forcing both him and TC to relive an incredibly traumatic experience in their lives. The episode ends with Magnum doing something considered morally questionable, but honestly, I was fine with it and on the contrary, thought he could have gone even farther. But that’s just me and my preference for vengeance talking.

This wouldn’t be the only episode to reflect on their Vietnam service and their traumas of war, a daring thing at the time given that the actual war had only ended a few years before the show began, the pain and controversy of it hardly a forgotten thing. Higgins would also recall his times of service in many, many, many stories, however even he gets to face some experiences he’d rather have forgotten.

Personally, “Home from the Sea” kicks my ass the most as Magnum fights for survival while stranded in the ocean during the Fourth of July. He flashes back and forth between the present and his childhood leading up to his father’s death in Korea while TC, Rick, and Higgins have persistent feelings that Magnum is in trouble. The way everything weaves together is so well done and Magnum’s narration of “I made it, Dad. Why didn’t you?” never fails to punch me in the chest and bring tears to my eyes.

Of course, there are lighter episodes, too, and quite a bit of humor in the show, which I love. Poor Rick catches a lot of the comic relief burden. I mean, he got punched by a nun once. Two of my favorite eps are “Operation: Silent Night” and “I, Witness”. Higgins is also blessed with a father who can’t keep it in his pants, which results in multiple half-siblings, three of which we get to meet: Elmo Ziller, Father Paddy McGuinness, and Don Luis Mongueo (all played by John Hillerman). Naturally, the siblings are nothing like the proper Higgins and hilarity tends to ensue. Father Paddy is my favorite.

The series wasn’t afraid to experiment, doing an episode set in 1936, a noir murder mystery episode, an episode that inter-cut Magnum’s investigation of insurance fraud with the novel of a struggling writer, and a send-up of Indiana Jones, a role that Tom Selleck couldn’t take due to the show. And while Selleck was splitting time with the show and movies during the fourth season, we were treated to Rick, TC, and Higgins-centric episodes, including one humorous, yet heartbreaking episode in which Higgins is obsessed with recounting in his memoir the story of his dear friend David Worth (Patrick Macnee) who thought he was Sherlock Holmes. The show also crossed over with two other popular CBS shows during its run: Murder, She Wrote and Simon & Simon.

The eight seasons were star studded when it came to guest stars. Here are a few, except not really : Robert Pine (as Magnum’s dad, further proving he’ll always be cooler than his son Chris), Carol Burnett, Frank Sinatra, Robert Loggia, Vera Miles, Celeste Holm, Ernest Borgnine, Darren McGavin; Hawaii Five-O regulars Zulu, Herman Wedemeyer, Harry Endo, Moe Keale, and Kam Fong, as well as Kam’s son Dennis Chun and frequent flyers Douglas Mossman, Tommy Fujiwara, and Josie Over; Robert Forster, Richard Narita, Gregory Sierra, Pat Hingle, Soon-Tek Oh, Nancy Lee Grahn; ’80s ladies Annie Potts, Dana Delany, Tyne Daly, and Erin Gray; Dustin Nguyen, Alfonso Ribeira, Sharon Stone, Morgan Fairchild, Dick Butkus, James Hong, Christine Belford; darlings Shannon Doherty and Kim Richards; Donnelly Rhodes, William Lucking, Keye Luke; Joe Santos’s fellow Rockford Files vets Gretchen Corbett, Stuart Margolin, and Noah Beery Jr.; William Schallert, Robert Ito, Denise Nichols, Sheree North, Leslie Uggams, Roscoe Lee Browne, Jenny Agutter; Return of the Living Dead duo Clu Gulager and James Karen; France Nuyen, Wings Hauser, Beulah Quo, Brock Peters; Cheers alums Ted Danson and John Ratzenberger; Jessica Walter, Dennis Weaver, Mako; Rerun Junkie faves Kenneth Tigar, Robert F. Lyons, Denny Miller, Nehemiah Persoff, and John Saxon; Cameron Mitchell, Scatman Crothers, Pat Morita, Burr DeBenning; ’60s icons James Doohan, Cesare Romero, Henry Gibson,and Alan Hale Jr.; and in my favorite bit of casting ever, Anne Lockhart and Miguel Ferrer playing younger versions of their parents June Lockhart and José Ferrer.

One controversial aspect of the series lies in one particular character: Robin Masters. In the early seasons, he was played (or at least voiced) by Orson Welles. However, in the later seasons, it was supposed that Higgins was actually the never-there owner of Robin’s Nest. Magnum’s reasoning was that Higgins was always working on his memoirs, but was never done, and some of his writing was similar to that of Masters. Plus he was really possessive of the estate. I don’t know what the reasoning was by the actual show writers, though, since it was established in early seasons that Robin Masters was Orson Welles. Yes, Orson Welles died during the series, but they could have worked around it. I mean, Robin was never there. But, in the end, it resulted in a debate among some fans about who Robin Masters really is. In my personal canon, it was Orson Welles. I like Higgins being the idiosyncratic human that he is.

At any rate, it was played like a dangling carrot for Magnum right up until the last episode of the show. Now, if I have the story straight, the show was supposed to end in the seventh season with the episode “Limbo”, but they ended up being renewed for a shorter eighth season which ended with “Resolutions”. My controversial opinion is that I like the idea of the show ending with “Limbo” better, even if it is kind of a downer. But I like “Resolutions” as well. It’s a good high note to go out on.

The show earned itself a reboot in 2018, diversifying the cast with Jay Hernandez taking over the role of Magnum and Perdita Weeks as Higgins (sadly, opposite sex leads mean that the show has taken the well-worn will-they-or-won’t-they path because heteronormativity is a helluva drug); Zachary Knighton as Rick and Stephen Hill as TC (this was the casting that stressed me the most because TC is my guy; they did a fab job, though); and rounding out the main cast is Tim Kang as Gordon Katsumoto (sans John Wayne obsession) and Amy Hill as Kumu, an original character for the series and my role model. I enjoy the reboot despite its flaws, the biggest one being that none of the guys ever wear short-shorts a la the ’80s series. If I’m going to be subjected to Moonlighting-redux, then I should at least get a huge side of guy thighs.

Obviously, though, the ’80 series captured my heart first and I’ve got some happy memories with it, watching it while hanging out in my grandma’s air conditioned den after lunch.

It’s a classic.

Like an aloha shirt, it never goes out of style.

“What’s Your Favorite TV Show?”

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First of all, how dare you ask me an unanswerable question.

Yes it is THE question I cannot answer. I can’t even make a top five list. I can barely make a top ten.

The truth is that my love is forever, but my favorites change.

Also massive commitment issues, but that’s a post for a different blog.

It’s probably easiest to stay general and go with the types of shows I like best.

I have a strong love for ’70s cop shows (they are my ultimate jam, it would seem) and ’80s private detective shows. I’m not a big fan of sitcoms, but most of the ones I like are from the ’60s. I grew up on ’80s action and old ladies being awesome. I’m fond of a handful of sci-fi shows from the late ’90s and the ’00s. I discovered an affinity for some Westerns from the ’50s and ’60s. I like shows produced by Jack Webb and shows that star Raymond Burr. Yes, I don’t like many current shows, but I’ve still found some that I truly enjoy.

Of those genres, I could start naming names. Hawaii Five-O, obviously, but also Barney Miller and Starsky and Hutch and CHiPs. Magnum PI and Simon and Simon. The Monkees and Gilligan’s Island and The Addams Family. The A-Team and Air Wolf and Murder, She Wrote and The Golden Girls. Stargate: Atlantis and Stargate: Universe. The Big Valley and The Rifleman and Gunsmoke and Bonanza. Dragnet and Emergency! and Adam-12. Ironside and Perry Mason. I watched NCIS: New Orleans from pilot to finale. I’m enjoying the reboots of Magnum PI (despite its -in some instances glaring- flaws) and The Equalizer. I even finally came to appreciate the 2010 Hawaii Five-0.

But distilling it down to a single choice is impossible.

Think of all of the shows I haven’t watched yet. The first two seasons of The Rookies still sits on my shelf, unseen. So does Werewolf. Chopper One is on my wishlist, as is Longstreet and Dan August. Tales of the Gold Monkey is just waiting for me to borrow from the library. I would kill to see Dirty Sally, Gunsmoke‘s only spin-off, and Trauma Center, the 4th Glen A. Larson short-lived series to come out of 1983.

So, really, it would be premature of me to pick a favorite at this point. Even a top ten list might be considered irresponsible at this juncture.

I continue to discover new reruns that hit me on all cylinders, that thrill me. I’m always rediscovering old loves that I haven’t watched for years, some I’ve even forgotten about. Some shows I love for all the wrong reasons; a few I love for the right ones.

There are shows that only briefly capture my attention, but do it so intensely that they almost become a fixation. Other shows, never leave me, really. Then there are those that come and go, roll in and out of my life like waves, letting me rediscover them over and over again. And of course, there are my white whales and holy grails, the ones that I’ve been looking for and hope that one day I’ll finally get to watch.

So, what’s my favorite TV show?

I’ll let you know.

Educational Television

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Several years ago now, I saw a movie called Chi-Raq which is a retelling of the story of Lysistrata set in present day Chicago. It’s a great movie, but judging by some of the comments I saw at the time, it seemed that some people missed the fact that it was a retelling of a Greek play by Aristophanes.

Naturally, people pointed out that they didn’t know that because they’d never learned about it in school.

I never learned about Lysistrata in school either, but I still knew the story. How?

Gilligan’s Island.

The first season episode “St. Gilligan and the Dragon” invokes a G-rated version of the story. The women, frustrated with the men and feeling disrespected, decide to go off on their own and stop doing the “women’s work” for the fellas. Mrs. Howell is actually the instigator, citing Lysistrata to explain to Mary Ann and Ginger what they should do.

So at six years old, I learned about Lysistrata. Thirty-some years later, I finally put that knowledge to use to be smug at strangers on the Internet.

Television has a funny way of educating folks like that. They just sneak it in on you and the next thing you know you’re answering the Daily Double on Jeopardy correctly.

Or realizing what the school curriculum didn’t cover.

After the statue of slave trader Edwin Colston was pulled down and dumped in the sea in Bristol, England, someone on Twitter pointed out that much of the racist history of Britain wasn’t addressed in their history classes there. One of these events that they cited was the Mau Mau Uprising, a violent resistance to colonialism by the Kenya Land and Freedom Army against the British.

It seems odd that the Brits might not to learn something about this, even a glossy, white-washed version it. It makes more sense that an American like myself wouldn’t know about it. After all, our high school history classes barely get past World War II.

But I’d heard of it. Why?

Magnum PI.

The third season episode “Black on White” deals specifically with the Mau Mau Uprising, particularly Higgins’s role in it since the men in his unit who were there are being killed off. It’s not an exact retelling of history, of course, but it does capture the brutality of the conflict, something most Americans might not have otherwise heard of.

A little history lesson snuck in between the action and Aloha shirts.

This sort of thing still happens in today’s television. A whole slew of folks were introduced to the Tulsa Race Massacre thanks to Watchmen. In 1921, white residents attacked the Black residents of the Greenwood district in Tulsa, destroying the wealthiest Black community at the time, injuring hundreds, and killing an estimated 75 to 100 people (according to a 2001 commission; 39 deaths were confirmed). Not many US high school history classes paused to even mention that in the race from WWI to the Great Depression.

They say that too much television can rot your brain. And I suppose it can. Too much of anything isn’t good for you. Television is no different, especially some of the so-called mindless junk (I do love me some intellectual Twinkies as a way to soothe my tendency to overthink). But it’s not all brainless twaddle.

Pay attention next time.

You might just learn something.

When the Stars Go Out

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It’s been a sad week here in Rerun Junkie Land.
In the last few days we’ve lost both Markie Post (less than a month after her Night Court co-star Charles Robinson at that) and Alex Cord, as well as observing the anniversary of Robin Williams’s death.
It’s a strange thing when celebrities die. It’s a given that their family and friends will mourn them (unless they are absolute pricks, but it never seems like an asshole dies). But they also end up being mourned by strangers who thought of them as friends and/or family because by virtue of technology they became important and familiar.
However, even more curious is how -when you really stop to think about it- they aren’t really gone in the way that fans know them. Yes, they’ve gone beyond the horizon to have some new adventures, but the way that we as fans know them best is left behind. They’re gone, but they’re not.
It sort of ends up being this weird grief echo that surrounds that person.
Take Davy Jones and Peter Tork, for example. I was devastated when both men died. We’re talking straight up disbelief followed by heartbreak that lasted for days. Understandable given that I’ve been a huge Monkees fan since I was six. But my access to them hasn’t changed. I can listen to them whenever I want, watch episodes of the show whenever I want. They’re gone, but they’re not. And sometimes, I forget that they’re gone. It’s always for a brief moment and then I remind myself, but it’s always a disconcerting sort of feeling. Like, oh yeah. They’re gone.
I know that happens to people when someone they know personally dies, too. They have that brief bliss of forgetting that their loved one is gone before the reality comes crashing down. But the very nature of celebrity makes this a default. It’s so easy to forget that they’re gone because they’re always there.
And that echo reverberates differently for different people, and not always in a way that makes sense.
I was understandably heartbroken when two of my TV boyfriends, Martin Milner and James MacArthur, passed away, but the reminders that they’ve beyond the horizon don’t hit me as hard as you would think they would. In contrast, I was also sad when Ron Glass and David Ogden Stiers died, but for some reason, the reminders of them being gone are much harsher. I have no explanation for this.
I have no real point to any of this. Only my own observations on a phenomenon that might only exist in my head. But it’s something that I think about every time an old favorite takes that horizon ride.

I guess what I’m saying is that some stars never really go out.

Rerun Junkie Guest Stars–Dabbs Greer

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I like to say that I see Dabbs Greer once a week on my reruns and the best part is that I’m not really joking. The man has 319 credits listed on IMDB, the first once being an uncredited appearance in the 1939 movie Jesse James. His last credit is an episode of Lizzie McGuire in 2003.

It’s no exaggeration to say that the man did everything in between.

Probably best known as Reverend Alden on Little House on the Prairie, he also had recurring roles on The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, Picket Fences, Maybe It’s Me, Hank, and Gunsmoke. However, he often showed up on shows more than once even if he wasn’t playing the same character. Dabbs had multiple appearances on The Rifleman, Bonanza, The Wild Wild West, Rawhide, Wagon Train, Perry Mason, The Fugitive, The FBI, and The Loretta Young Show.

He joined Dick Van Dyke on both the Dick Van Dyke Show and Diagnosis Murder. He stopped by Mayberry multiple times on The Andy Griffith Show. He went to both The Twilight Zone and The Outer Limits.

He was a doctor suffering from an aortic aneurysm on Emergency!, a family man in need of help in Gomer Pyle: USMC, a drunk on Big Valley, a moonshiner on Charlie’s Angels, and a doctor up to no good on The Incredible Hulk.

Dabbs Greer had the kind of long and varied career that a lot of actors dream of. He was never really a star, so to speak, but as a character actor who was in everything, he was instantly recognizable. And he could do just about anything. Sitcoms like The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis, Empty Nest, Petticoat Junction, Rosanne, and Ann Jillian were no problem. Do you like private investigators? He was on Mannix, Cannon, Barnaby Jones, and The Rockford Files. He also did cop dramas like The Streets of San Francisco, Adam-12, Mod Squad, The Rookies, and Chopper One. He covered all of the westerns, including Laredo, Laramie, and The Virginian. He even went out of this world with The Invaders and The Greatest American Hero.

And if all of that isn’t enough, he played the minister who married two famous sitcom couples:  Rob and Laura Petrie on The Dick Van Dyke Show and Mike and Carol Brady on The Brady Bunch. Then came back twenty years later and married Bobby Brady and Tracy Wagner on The Bradys. Because Dabbs Greer was unstoppable.

I think that’s what I like best about him. That he is such a familiar, constant presence on my rerun viewing. I don’t really have any favorites where he’s concerned because I always enjoy when he pops up on my TV. Sometimes he’s a good guy, sometimes he’s a bad guy, sometimes he’s just a bit part, sometimes he’s the episode.

But he’s always there.

The ever-present Dabbs Greer.

Welcome to aka KikiWrites

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I am one of those people who likes to watch, write about, and talk about old TV shows. So much so that I had to create an entire site just to contain that aspect of my existence.

aka KikiWrites is the official home of my podcast, Book ’em, Danno: An Old Hawaii Five-O podcast, which covers the 1968 Hawaii Five-O series. You’ll also find my guest spots on other podcasts, usually talking about old TV shows, but sometimes I do actually talk about other things, too. Rarely, but it’s been known to happen.

Since I’m a writer by nature, it’s only natural that I’d spare a few hundred thousand words on reruns. My Rerun Junkie posts cover shows, guest stars, characters, episodes, and context.

And if you happen to like the content, feel free to buy me a cup of coffee or two over on Ko-Fi.

So, settle in, find a channel, and enjoy.