Only a handful of the network TV series debuting 50 years ago last autumn managed to survive two or more seasons.
But how many would have existed at all if they faced today’s TV/political environment?
Sure, Mary Richards’ best friend Rhoda Morgenstern achieved her own CBS spin-off. And she made Nielsen ratings history a few weeks later as she raced through the streets of New York in her wedding gown to tie the knot.
But a time-traveling TV executive from 2024 would have given us Rhoda NondescriptLastName racing through the streets of New York in her burka to … freeze her eggs (consequently spawning a grassroots “I’m cutting my rabbit ears!” movement).
Angie Dickinson shattered the glass ceiling as “Pepper” Anderson on “Police Woman,” but how could she have made ends meet while facing today’s activism? (“Undercover cop, undercover salary. We’re defunded!”)
“Chico and the Man” was a succinct title for the sitcom (starring Freddie Prinze and Jack Albertson) that lampooned both a generation gap and an ethnic gap. But even a lead-in from “Sanford and Son” wouldn’t have helped if it was saddled with a clunky title like “I’m Not a Biologist; I Don’t Know What a Chico is or What a Man is.”
Clifton Davis and Theresa Merritt earned a sophomore season of the ABC sitcom “That’s My Mama.” Good thing it wasn’t “That’s My Birthing Person — Definitely Not a Trafficker Who Smuggled Me Across the Border.”
NBC graced us with two dramas that showcased TV/film veterans with stratospheric likability factors: James Garner (“The Rockford Files”) and Michael Landon (“Little House on the Prairie”).
But nowadays, the casting quest would be for whichever has-been or never-was couldn’t land a streaming deal. Or, a star would be made expendable by a big cast. (“Let’s see if we can fit an ensemble of 12 in Rockford’s Pontiac Firebird Esprit.”)
Don’t get me started on the “franchise” phenomenon. Landon’s wholesome adventures in Walnut Grove would have suffered overexposure if someone had gotten the bright idea of cranking out “Little House on the Jersey Turnpike,” “Little House on the Endangered Wetland,” “Little House on the Titanic” …
(As it was, the anticipation for the Dec. 12, 1974, premiere of “The Godfather Part II” nearly caused “Little House” to have a completely different focus. We came this close to seeing the unwieldy “Nice Little House You Have Here on the Prairie; Be a Shame if Anything Happened to it.”)
Reality shows were practically nonexistent during the heyday of “Little House,” but a tweak of TV history could have left the Ingalls family with the trauma of a non-scripted existence. Although, “Spreading Typhoid Fever With the Stars” and “Vote Harriet Oleson Off the Hemisphere” have a certain panache.
Prequel-itis is another modern gimmick that could have produced cringeworthy results. Can you imagine “Young Rockford,” charging “10 bucks a week plus all the root beer I can drink” while solving crimes with the help of his detention hall pal Angel Martin?
Oh, and he could have a parrot that answered the phone. (“This is Jimmy Rockford. At the tone, leave your name and message. I’ll get back to you. Unless you’re a yucky girl with cooties.”)
I hope you enjoyed this alternative look at a very special stretch of Memory Lane.
What do you mean, Rhoda should have frozen this column until the time was right?
Danny Tyree welcomes email responses at tyreetyrades@aol.com and visits to his Facebook fan page “Tyree’s Tyrades.”