Historical September 1985 report or notice. Original dates, prices and contacts describe the source period; current availability has not been established.
Welcome back, dear reader!
No doubt you’ve survived this typical St. Louis summer by doing whatever is necessary to escape the heat. Other than going to Michigan or Wisconsin or somewhere else where cows outnumber people, typical St. Louis heat aversion measures include frequent trips to Ted Drewes, dips in the backyard pool, and placing one’s underwear in the freezer for several hours before wearing it.
Well, enough frivolity, In Your Ear, is back with a vengeance, serving as your lens to reality.
For lo’ these many months yours truly has been the voice in the wilderness, complaining about the lack of cable t.v. in the City. I noted that we were without cable way back when the peanut farmer was president. I complained about a lack of cable before Mayor Schoemehl ever heard of Lean Cusine. I decried the impoverished cultural wasteland created by a lack of cable even before Tom Zych was indicted! Honestly, I thought that it was part of a deeper conspiracy by our county brethren to keep we Cityfolks from becoming truly cosmopolitan.
After all, cable was described as the apotheosis. the finest that mankind had to offer.
We might have our St. Louis Centre and Union Station and Doughboys and the Skinker Sinclair station—all unique City institutions—but unless we had it, we were little better than the caveman without fire, Sonny without Cher, or Dean without Jerry (oops!).
Well, the battle is over, but I’m not sure who won.
I have cable and, let me tell you, I’m more than just a little bit disappointed. Talk about a letdown.
I haven’t been this disappointed since puberty. No, that’s not totally true, I really haven’t been this disappointed since either the Vandeventer overpass finally opened and nothing happened or since the football Cardinals seasons of 1968, 1969, 1970, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1974, 1975, 1976, 1977, 1978, 1979, 1980, 1981, 1982, 1983, 1984, or, thus far, 1985. I can’t believe that this cable television is what I waited so semi-breathlessly for. Whoever called television the “vast wasteland” was certainly watching cable.
I feel like the guy who not only said he could see the Emperor’s New Clothes, but paid $29.33 a month to do so.
And I ask ‘you, why do I need a remote control unit to see his clothes anyway? Somehow I naively thought that cable would open up vistas of good, fine television. I believed that I’d spring home from work, ready to sit in front of the tube, Dorritos in one hand, remote unit in the other. I envisioned myself being the center of attention at parties and the office water cooler because I’d be able to talk about the interesting things now available to me on cable. HOO-HAH to that one! Get a load of the listings available to me on cable: Cisco Kid; Videocountry; Dangermouse; Auto Racing; Northside Baptist; Turkey Television (honest!); Dragnet; Waterskiing; Gong Show; Dancin’ U.S.A.; Flipper; Barnburning; and, the ultimate, Regis Philbin’s Lifestyles.
As Jack Paar used to say, “I kid you not.” Now, you may be thinking, “Ah yes, but what “about the movies? Doesn’t cable have good movies not otherwise available on television?” Well, you’re right about the part “not otherwise available on television,” but with regard to “good,” try these actual titles: The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai; Cannonball Run II; Get Crazy; Police Academy; and Where the Boys Are ’84. Need I say more? I wouldn’t go so far as to say that cable television has no value at all (football season isn’t here yet so I’m withholding judgment on ESPN), but other than keeping villains off the street and providing jobs for cable employees, I’m awfully hard pressed to think of anything positive. I searched in vain for “My Mother, the Car” (remember that one?), but couldn’t find it. Otherwise, I haven’t seen so many turkeys since I attended a Delta Zeta mixer in college.
And it’d be bad enough if all this were free, but, no, I’m actually paying for it! It’s not all that cheap either, after all, for almost $30.00 you could buy 70 packages of Hostess Cupcakes or a box of Thompson’s famous Maduoro cigars or enough 905 beer to last until Labor Day. What more could a man want (other than a loyal dog to bring his slippers)?
Even the all-day news show, Cablenews, is less than expected. Sure, they do the news 24 hours a day, but they repeat the same show every 30 minutes. What good is it if you can only watch it for a half hour at a time?
Besides, Patrick Emory is an anchorman (definitely not an anchorperson) for them, so that immediately raises questions of credibility. Seeing Patrick read the news is a bit like having Jackie Gleason work for Weight Watchers.
In reviewing what I’ve read, though, and in trying to be fair, I should say that for all its flaws, I do find myself spending inordinate amounts of time in front of the cable tube these days. Yeah, it doesn’t offer much that is in any way redeeming, but it does have MTV.
If cocaine is God’s way of telling you that you have too much money, MTV is God’s way of telling you that you have too much time on your hands. It’s my weakness and I admit it, but until they televise mud wrestling, it’s me and MTV all the way. I mean, after a hard day at the job, it’s got everything a person could want: vibrant colors, loud discordant music, no plot, writhing bodies, and a sense of youth-lost. Best of all, its only $30.00 per month.
Originally published in The Times of Skinker-DeBaliviere, September 1985.
Read this article in the original newspaper issue.
Original source: SD_Times1985_09.pdf, printed page(s) 8; PDF page(s) 8.
