K is for Kildare

Memories of ancient television

Black&white TV; Free Image on Unsplash; Bruna Araujo

I just read that Richard Chamberlain died, age 90, listed as a “heartthrob and king of miniseries.” Screen memories came flooding back from my insulated childhood, dominated by the black and white TV programs on our small set in the living room. Each evening, our family of four watched. For five years, I watched Dr. Kildare in the 1960s, swept away by the medical adventures of the then-27-year-old actor. That idealistic intern bumbling around in 1960s medical drama contributed to my interest in a career in medicine, which didn’t happen, I should add, despite the addition of Ben Casey, also a 1960s medical drama. I suppose I had a bit of a kid crush on Chamberlain.

Briefly, in 1983 (must have been before we left for Africa), I watched Chamberlain in The Thorn Birds. Although I never forgot his name, I didn’t watch anything else he did, but wait… did I see The Towering Inferno? Missed Shogun. I might have seen Centennial and The Bourne Identity. I didn’t read his memoir. My memories, as always, are littered with vacant chunks and clearer morsels.

My history with television was atypical. My parents came of age when television was invented, so they were adults in the 1940s when television became available to average people. They were hooked. Growing up, my brother and I watched television with my parents every evening from when my dad came home from work until bedtime, unless I was doing homework. Watching TV with my family was our major source of entertainment. Always in black and white, our 1950s televisions were contained in a large box with a tiny screen on which I watched Captain Kangaroo and the Mickey Mouse Club. In later years, as the size of the TV decreased and the screens enlarged, I watched Saturday morning cartoons along with Perry Mason, I Love Lucy, Wagon Train, Bonanza, Rawhide, and Walt Disney’s Wonderful World of Color, which, of course, we couldn’t see in color. Our family frequently watched variety shows, which our parents preferred, with singing, dancing, and music. I missed the night when the Beatles performed on the Ed Sullivan Show; our parents never mentioned it.

Hard to believe, perhaps, but there were only three stations: NBC, CBS, and ABC--free to watch, complete with commercials. PBS required a subscription, which our parents didn’t want to pay for. We had “rabbit ears”–antennas. No remotes. The dials on the front of the TV included on/off, a station knob, and volume knob. Programming stopped late at night, leaving a buzzing screen. The television occupied an honored corner in every living room in every house we inhabited. Don and I watched Jeopardy when we walked home from high school for Mother’s lunches. Each fall, a list of the upcoming TV programs appeared in our local newspaper. We’d scan the list and plan which programs to watch. All the shows started in September and ended with the school year, as far as I remember. Summers were for reruns. There were no series with extended storylines, just soaps, which we didn’t watch.

In 1965, at age 14, I abandoned television, perhaps in teenage rebellion? In the evenings, while the rest of the family clustered in the living room, I retired to my bedroom to do homework, listen to music on the family record player, which I’d moved into my room, read a book, and tend to my pet mice or aquarium. Occasionally, I’d be summoned to watch something memorable on TV, such as the moon landing in 1969. I sobbed in front of the TV watching funerals for assassinated public figures. About 30 years passed during which I rarely watched television except for special events. In college, I never watched TV in the dorm commons room. There were too many other things to do.

Once married in 1979, Bruce and I at first didn’t miss the TV we didn’t buy. We got our news from newspapers, magazines, and the radio. In the early 1980s, however, we acquired a small portable black and white TV, kept in a closet and pulled out occasionally to watch M*A*S*H reruns with an antenna. In West Africa, where we moved in 1983, there was a local TV station in French, but we didn’t have a television anyway. In Kenya, we acquired a television set, hooked to a DVD player to watch videos we’d shot ourselves or ones that family members sent us from home. By then, we had Andy and Megan who liked watching Winnie the Pooh and Sesame Street. There were TV stations in Kenya, but I don’t recall paying attention to the programming.

Moving back to America in 1991, we bought a small color television and kept it in our townhouse basement. In another house, I tucked it into a room off the main living area behind closed doors so I couldn’t hear it when Andy played video games with his friends. Mostly, we watched movies rented from a video store. We rarely watched network programs until Andy and Megan began requesting specific ones. We watched with them, so we knew what they were exposed to. Thus, in the 1990s, we returned to mainstream television with shows like Friends, X-Files, Ally McBeal, Boston Legal, The Simpsons, and Seinfeld. But mostly we were too busy to spend much time in front of the screen.

There have never been TVs in our bedrooms. When we returned to the States, we were astounded to notice that many households had TVs in all the bedrooms, even the children’s rooms. Having multiple TVs was only one example of an amazing American reality of multiple cars, phones, bathrooms, dining rooms, garages, and even houses, all of which seemed to have happened during the seven-and-a-half years we lived outside the US.

Decades later, the entire entertainment universe has changed dramatically.

In retirement, our routine has been to stream an episode or two after dinner together in the living room. We choose a series or movie that we’re both interested in. No commercials! I can watch other things that interest only me while treadmilling, such as the year I spent watching series and documentaries about Vikings. I like nature programs, historical fiction, and documentaries about almost anything to do with ancient history, archeology, and the natural world, as long as the Rotten Tomatoes rating is favorable.

I still feel that sitting in front of a TV screen is wasted time. Yet, I spend hours in front of computer screens, and plenty of time scrolling on my phone. I may be deluding myself when I say that I could easily live without ever watching television. I’d have trouble surviving without a reliable internet connection and cell phone service, but commercial television is low on my priority list. Electronic entertainment continues to evolve, connecting us to a wider world, and to memories of how things used to be.

RIP, Dr. Kildare.