The idea came to me a few weeks ago on one of the Facebook classic TV groups, when someone quoted an unnamed "television legend." Since the quote wasn't familiar to me, I idly inquired as to who this legend was. "Michael O'Donoghue," the poster replied. My first thought was, "You mean the guy with the beard who's the lead singer for the Doobie Brothers, and you can never understand what he's singing? Since when did he become a television legend?"
Of course, when he elaborated that O'Donoghue was one of the head writers for Saturday Night Live, I was able to figure things out. But the truth of the matter is that had that context not been provided, I wouldn't have had to work hard to find out who Michael O'Donoghue was. I'd seen SNL from time to time, but not for at least 30 years (not since Wayne's World, and that only because I was a hockey fan at the time); I read his entry at the always-reliable Wikipedia, and I couldn't find anything other than SNL that would have linked him to my circle of knowledge. And the question quickly became: Could someone legitimately be considered a "television legend" if a classic television historian—that's me, in case you're wondering*—doesn't know who he was?
*Perhaps I should start referring to this period as "vintage" rather than "classic," given that a classic could be 40 years ago (1985, which doesn't seem that long ago to me), or could even be an "instant classic" (the first episode of Twin Peaks, for instance). What do you think?
I don't say that to flatter myself, but this was a question worth asking, even though the answer could potentially be a severe blow to my already-fragile ego. It's true that I've got a fairly vast knowledge of things other people don't know, but if I didn't recognize someone who was an important figure in the history of television, was all that knoweldge simply in vain, a vast assemblage of minutiae inhabiting space that could, and should, be put to more useful purposes? The very thought tempted me to hang up my keyboard in shame.
Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending on how you want to look at it—subsequent investigations convinced me that, while Michael O'Donoghue is quite well known within a certain sphere of television fandom, it was quite reasonable that even a dedicated television viewer might not travel in the same circles, and thus not be familiar with his output. A "legend"? To some, undoubtedly, but not in the same category as, say, Lucille Ball. Or Babe Ruth.
You already know about my top ten shows, so here's a much longer list of the shows I just don't care about. I'll let you be the judge.
- Game of Thrones
- Succession
- Breaking Bad
- Better Call Saul
- Mad Men
- The Sopranos
- Parks and Recreation
- Friday Night Lights
- The Office (either version)
- 30 Rock
- The Wire
- NCIS
- Law & Order
- Stephen Colbert, Jimmy Fallon, Jimmy Kimmel (especially!), Conan O'Brian, Jon Stewart, and Seth Myers
- The Americans
- Arrested Development
- Friends
- Seinfeld
- Cheers
- Frazier
- How I Met Your Mother
- The Cosby Show
- Survivor
- The Daily Show
- American Idol
- Ellen
- Buffy the Vampire Slayer
- Spin City
- Everybody Loves Raymond
- Roseanne
- Home Improvement
- ER
- St. Elsewhere
- The X-Files
- Any version of Star Trek other than the original (and the animated series)
- All in the Family
- M*A*S*H
- Saturday Night Live (obviously)
Now, understand a few things. First, I'm not suggesting these are bad shows, nor am I critiquing anyone who does watch them. I suspect far fewer people watch the shows I watch—of course, that's your loss. (Iust kidding; I've always said that if you're a friend of TV, you're a friend of mine.) Nor does it mean that I'm completely ignorant* about these programs: to say that I don't watch them doesn't necessarily mean I've never seen an episode. I also read entertainment sites, I browse through episode recaps, I research shows I'm going to write about, and I try never to criticize a show without familarizing myself with the gist of things (see Law & Order and NCIS). I know who Walter White and Don Draper are, I know how The Sopranos and Succession ended, and I know that Sam didn't run off with Diane. It may not be my world but I do have to live in it, so it behooves me to keep track of it.
*Although I'll be the first to fess up to my ignorance, which I have to do many, many times.
The point of it all is that I'm quite out of step when it comes to contemporary pop culture, and, frankly, I'm glad. Still, as I remarked to a friend the other day, it's sobering to discover that one has outlived their time. TV