First TV on the block... if not the world.
Right now, I’m supposed to be telling you about some situations I had with Dad when we lived on Camille Street. It was all but a promise. But, a pre-Camille thought came up and I thought it more appropriate if I chunk it in right now. If I wait a chapter or two, it’ll be too much of a prequel and prequels just confuse the willies out of me. If you can’t write a story without sending the reader back and forth… well, you just need to think stuff out better.
With that straightened out, let me take you back a few years from the time of the family’s move to Camille Street. – Beg pardon? I thought one of you said something. Okay, then, let’s move on.
I might’ve mentioned it once or twice, but it bears repeating. The Hayters were the first on the block to get a TV. Maybe in the entire world. Let’s go ahead and say that. Certainly, the first on Randall Street. We were blessed, and we flaunted it.
I don’t think Mom or Dad ever told anyone how we got the set. Truth is Grandma won it playing Bingo. Uh, that was my Grandma Pearl. Remember? Dad’s mom. Grandma Teegarden never played Bingo in her life. Bingo was gambling, and although I don’t think gambling is directly mentioned in the Good Book, it was supposed to be. It’s that natural inference thing. If you naturally infer something because it just naturally seems to follow… then you can establish a lot of Biblical laws that just aren’t there.
I don’t so much mind the naturally inferred law against gambling, though. It’s the one on square dancing that really ticked me off. There I am in elementary school with a chance to grab Brenda Hornaday’s hand and start dosey doeing and promenading, but noooo. Brother W. said that dancing was a sin. I’d be one forth grader lusting his heart out while alamanding left and right with Brenda. She was a good four inches taller than me, but it might’ve been because she had her hair up in a bun. Like Princess Leia. Double bunned. She might’ve been Pentecostal. Brenda, not Leia. I don’t know. I didn’t care. I just wanted to hold Brenda’s hand. Never happened, because-- What? Oh, sorry. Okay, back to the TV.
Right, Grandma Pearl won the TV playing bingo. Might’ve been at the American Legion or the Knights of Columbus or Daughters of Kentucky living in Texas… I just know it was some place that was not sponsored by our church. Our church didn’t play bingo. The two legitimate reasons for getting a divorce, were if your spouse committed adultery or if your spouse ever won at bingo. Just playing wasn’t good enough. Had to be a winner. And, yes, I’m making this up.
Our TV looked like the tall one, more or less. Only, it was of a lighter wood.
Grandmother Pearl not only played Bingo, but she was proud of it. Didn’t care who knew. That woman did some wild stuff in her life. I’ve mentioned one or two things. I saved the Bingo one for this chapter, ‘cause it fits in better. You’ll see.
Of all the bad stuff that Grandma Pearl did, I was most proud of her winning the TV. That’s ‘cause she gave it to Dad. That would’ve made up for the stupid stuffed fish she gave us, but the fish came so much later that I had forgotten how great the TV gift had been.
Pearl gave Dad the TV set for two reasons. One, Grandma already had one. A better one. In fact, she was probably truly the first one in the world to get one. The second reason she gave the set to Dad was because Dad was an only child. If he had had some brothers and sisters, there would’ve been a fight like you’d never seen before. I’m sure Dad would’ve won, but he would’ve taken some hits.
I don’t really believe God minded Grandma winning the TV, ‘cause the 17-inch Philco seemed to draw us closer to the people at church… not that we needed to be any closer. We went to church three times a week, five times during Vacation Bible School or lectureships. We stayed over for potluck lunches and suppers and extra singing sessions. So, now, we were having people over to watch our unscripturally obtained TV set. We got away with it, because we called the get-togethers “fellowship.” You could do just about anything if you called it fellowshipping. Well, you couldn’t square dance or bingo, but most other things.
Yeah, after practically every evening service, some of the church brethren and sistern would follow us home. Mom would pop a grocery bag full of popcorn and mix a vat of Kool-Aid. We’d congregate around the tube and watch “Ed Sullivan” or “Ted Mack’s Amateur Hour”. I still remember the first time I saw Brenda Lee. Whatta set of lungs! She could sing pretty good, too.
I don’t remember us inviting many of our friends in the neighbors over. Don’t think Mom and Dad wanted to open that can of worms. There would’ve been 30 kids, and a slew of adults, some of whom might’ve brought along some beer. Grandma Pearl was bad enough influence.
Plus, you get a bunch of neighborhood people over on a Saturday night and what are you gonna watch? Jackie Gleason or Perry Como? Lawrence Welk or Sid Caesar? I tell you, there would’ve been some flying fur. The church people were nice, but there was no telling what the neighborhood gang would’ve done. “Faris Hayter, you touch that knob and I’ll back over your garbage cans till you can’t tell the lid from the pail.
Though never invited, I’m pretty sure the neighbors looked in through the windows. We’d see tracks in the flowerbed the next morning. A few cigarette butts. The poor saps.
We watched some great stuff on that Philco. I should probably tell you that I don’t remember if it was a Philco or a Zenith or RCA. Philco just sticks in my head. Might be cause of that Sgt. Bilco guy on the old TV show. Bilco – Philco? I don’t know. Just pretty sure it wasn’t a Toshiba.
What I remember about the set was that it had a large white wooden-cabinet. It stood tall and narrow. The bottom three feet held the speakers. They were hidden behind a wood-framed cloth mesh. When Dennis and I would lie on the floor watching, we’d prop our feet on the mesh. Eventually tore the cloth. That’s how we found out the speakers were there. I don’t even know if Dad knew. Technical stuff was pretty new back then. You actually had to manually wind clocks and watches back then. I’m not joking! Text messages were scribbles in a Spelling book. You could really get into trouble for that.
Not only did our technology stink, but so did our TV programs. We didn’t know it at the time, ‘cause… well, we just didn’t know better. Lawrence Welk? Do I really need to say anymore?
A couple of Saturdays ago I saw “The Nine Lives of Elfego Baca” on the Disney Channel. Fortunately, Kay was not in the room. I hate to cry in front of my wife.
Never, never watch an old TV show that at one time shaped your life. I’m telling you for your own good. It’s too late to help me.
When I was a kid, Elfego Baca was The Man. That first episode where all the bad guys had Elfego Baca trapped inside that collapsed house was one of the best episodes in cowboydom. They kept thinking they had killed him, but whenever they approached the house, he’d gun down a couple more.
Dennis and I must’ve acted out that episode a few hundred times in the backyard. I had to play Elfego Baca’s sidekick. Of course, he never had a sidekick, but it was the only way Dennis would let me inside the make-believe collapsed house. That and the fact that I made the best gun sounds.
We must’ve been easily entertained back then. The old Garry Moore Show used to be one of our favorites. I’m sure Durward Kirby was a real duffus, but we liked him.
“I’ve Got a Secret”, “Jack Benny”, “Arthur Godfrey”, “Bob Cummings Show”… those were just a few of the dozens of old shows we watched on Grandma’s Philco or RCA. We were proud as we could be to get to watch ‘em, too. Flaunted it, we did. Hey, we were first on the block and probably the second in the whole world to have one.
In time, other TVs were introduced to the neighborhood. And, in time, the church people quit following us home. Our times of fellowship waned to the point where they just involved the occasional covered dish social. The Hayters were still considered decent brethren and sistern, though. We were just no longer special. We were just odd. We’ve always been odd.
Since there’s no other place to put this tidbit, I think I’d best tell you that we were the last people in the State of Texas to get a color TV. Dad bought a used round-tubed job. A 24 incher it was. You had to reset the colors every time you changed channels. It always had either a green or orange tinge to it.
At one point it developed a blur. That’s because Al and Jill were running around in the house in their sock-feet and Al slid and knocked over the TV. The thing stood on these four spindly legs, and one of ‘em broke off. The set was a topple waiting to happen. Jill and Al were scared to death for Dad to find out that they had messed up the TV, so they went crying to me.
I told them they were about three hours away from death, but I’d see what I could do. So, Jill and Alan lifted the set, while I set the leg back in place. The thing ended up just balanced under the TV. We were just about finished when Mom walked into the living room.
“What are you kids doing?” I told Mom it was much worse than it looked, but there was nothing she could do. “Nothing to see here, Mother. It’s best if you move along.” We weren’t so much afraid of Mom, even though she spanked us about every day. We pretty much came to expect them. Took turns even.
Mom would’ve spanked all three of us, but figured it was something Dad should handle. When somebody busts the new, used TV, there’s gonna be a bad moon risin’.
Jill and Alan started crying, but I told ‘em that when Dad walked in to just act normal. Maybe he would think the TV just naturally went blurry. One of the tubes burned out or something.
After supper Dad and everyone but Jill and Alan found a place to sit around the TV. I don’t remember who turned it on. Probably me. I’d be the youngest in the room. Dad probably had me messing with the horizontal hold and vertical hold and contrast and all those other control knobs. Nothing could clear up the picture. At one point Dad said, “Well, I should’ve known better than to get that cheap thing.”
We had dodged a bullet. The interesting thing is that Mom never told Dad. Well, if she did, she waited till we were too old to spank, ‘cause Dad never brought it up.
Since then the Hayters were always unlucky with TVs. We never got a decent model. Everyone seemed to have an orange or green tint. I was five years into marriage before I got a nice color TV set.
I don’t think Dad ever got a good one. It’s for sure that Grandma Pearl never helped out. If she ever won one, she kept it to herself. She did give us a giant stuffed fish though. I wrote that up in one of those prequels back there. Prequels. They’re killers.
END
No comments:
Post a Comment