Jose Chung has left the building

Not too long ago, Maura and I were discussing the sense of popcult awareness that is the blessing and curse of our generation, and where it originated from, hipster affectations of camp notwithstanding.

It’s hard to remember now, but there was a time before narrowcasting -- fueled by the rise of cable TV subscriptions and VCR’s in every home -- when one’s viewing options were limited to whatever PBS, the three networks, and the handful of local market UHF stations felt like playing. This was also before the Reagan era deregulatory policies allowing infomercials and toy cartoons came into play, and station programming execs would fill dead time slots with anything they thought would bring in advertising revenue, even if it was only a pittance.

Daytime and weekend television in the 1970’s was a colorful spectrum of the trends, personalities, and tried-and-true standards of the previous twenty-odd years of visual entertainment. Blocks of old cartoons (Warner Brothers, Popeye, Terrytoons) led into a mid-morning and early afternoon cocktail of syndicated game shows and dated sitcoms before switching back to kids’ fare in the after-school time slots. On the weekends, the Saturday morning blocks of network cartoon offerings (and the Sunday morning dumping ground of religious or cheaply produced education programming) bled into an assortment of Three Stooges shorts, Creature Double Feature cheapjack horror films, and afternoon matinee showings of anything from Five Million Years to Earth to Please Don’t Eat the Daisies.

Kids of our generation were exposed to a broader range of material than the current generation, with its easy access to dedicated children’s programming run 24/7, and as a result we gained a familiarity with, if not an appreciation for, performers and shows that existed outside the bubble of the immediate now. In the case of the Stooges and some of the old Warner’s cartoons, the jokes and references dated back to the late 1930’s and early 1940’s, which is astonishing to consider in light of the breakneck pace of modern popcult trends. How many kids of the present generation are exposed to bad puns about the Bay of Pigs Invasion on a regular basis?

The fact that many of the actors and actresses in question had moved onto cartoon voice acting or game show appearances at the same time we were watching their old material in syndication reinforced this sense of familiarity (this having been a time when “celebrity” panelists usually had some actual performance face time outside the world of reality television). Maura is quick to mention how the two most easily recognizable voices for people of our generation are those of Paul Lynde and Vincent Price, precisely for that very reason. Larry Storch, Jim Backus, Alice Ghostley, Ruth Buzzi, any of the celebrities who appeared on the Gong Show, the $10,000 Pyramid, and the original Hollywood Squares… A veritable pantheon of comedic and character actors whose presence was ingrained into the hearts and minds of a generation of impressionable children, partially because their corny appeal resonated so perfectly with seven year olds and partially because there was nothing else on during a given time slot.

Charles Nelson Reilly is dead. Long live Charles Nelson Reilly.

Gene Rayburn (Thanks, Nazz!) hands the Match Game hosting reins over to Reilly in a fit of exasperation.


The opening to Lidsville, featuring Eddie Munster and Reilly (in top flamboyant form).


The opening to the "Jose Chung's Doomsday Defense" episode of Millennium. May I interest you in the mysteries of Selfosophy?

Dead Milkmen – Serrated Edge (from Big Lizard in My Backyard, 1985) – In the name of Jose Chung, Claymore Gregg, and Horatio J. Hoodoo.

Brak – I Like Hubcaps (from Brak Presents The Brak Album Starring Brak, 2000) – Brak knows the score.