Not unlike many parents I, too, have been guilty of tirades that try to ground my child with economic realities. When I was young I often heard, “...when I was your age, we used our imaginations when listening to the radio ...so use yours...and pretend it’s in color.” When I was young, black and white TVs were called “consoles”, and the remote control was the youngest family member jumping up-and-down to change channels. Owning more than 1 TV, even color, seemed unfathomable. In the U.S. today, the average household has 3 TVs in their home—a mantra repeated by my 11 year-old who feels this evidence is enough to rally support for one in her bedroom–NOT!
In the 1960’s, only the well-off kids could afford a color TV in my neighborhood. If a family did commit to buying one, the decision was never considered frivolous. (The average income in 1965 was $6,600/yr. A TV manufactured by RCA had a starting cost of $399.99).
Often encased in fine wood cabinetry (to match your decor style), color TVs required the physical attentions and space like any other piece of furniture that needed dusting. Even though it was an appliance, it was revered as a status symbol that defined a family as both technologically progressive and fiscally solvent.
The economics in our household prevented us from being a color family for many years. Luckily this wont was temporally filled by my maternal grandmother.
Every other Sunday, I along with my sisters sought RGB refuge at her house. With the smell of rye bread and the lingering taste of a free butter cookie on my palate (courtesy of a stop to our local bakery), our car spun down the NJ Turnpike towards Bayonne and TV nirvana.
We typically were not allowed to watch TV during the day. Sating the desire to see the 19" color glow had to wait till early evening. From a 5 year-old’s perspective this was years away. Fortunately, lunch acted as a diversion. Sitting around the chrome-plated, steel legged table in my Babcia’s (circa 1930’s) kitchen, we indulged in typical Polish fare of kielbasa, horseradish, rye bread, sauerkraut and pickles. Since our drive back (after evening TV viewing) was a good hour, Mom always mandated an afternoon nap to help curtail any meltdowns prior to being loaded in the car. Succumbing to said request under threat of revoking TV privileges, inspired swift amicable compliance.
With the glow of afternoon gone, my ears would detect the vibrations of the reassuring muffled bass tones. Once arriving in the next room, my eyes consumed the divine splendor of cathode rays dancing along the surface of rose themed wall paper in the parlor (a.k.a. the living room).
A survey of the area showed male family members already ensconced in various pieces of furniture. The evening’s first act of programming—An American Sportsman was already underway. Offering previously filmed scenarios of bagged game and fishing exhibitions with celebrity guests, adolescents in the room usually found this to be a tortuously boring hour. My father however, saw this as a much needed weekly ritual to refill his depleted testosterone levels since our household consisted of a female majority.
Act II was Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom an ironic segue given the program’s intent was to promote animal conservation—a stark contrast to the previously watched TV show. Instead of seeing scenes of breath-starved wiggling fish being pulled into boats, we saw dart-gun toting zoologists and hungry predators stalking, catching and eating their prey—all in (bloody) full color. This present-day Animal Planet program, while interesting, often frustratingly delayed the pièce de résistance—Walt Disney's Wonderful World of Color.
While acts I and II aired, I often speculated on the eye-candy to be had that evening from the wooden box. Would we see The Parent Trap or an edited-for-TV version of the animated film Alice in Wonderland? Just about any choice would make the hour speed by. Being innocent at the time to marketing practices, none of us really cared what motivated Disney to finally broadcast his studio’s work. We were just glad for the opportunity to witness the magic while fantasizing about going to Disneyland one day.
Not being a stranger to TV, Disney capitalized on the inherent marriage of media to technology. His weekly aired program was a perfect platform to publicize the first Disneyland Park to a nationwide audience. On September 4, 1961, the first Disney episode viewed in color was aired on the NBC network. Its goal was twofold—to entertain and to educate. Disney created a character named Ludwig Von Drake who tutored the masses on color TV technology and its benefits.
I often wonder what the outcome would have been if Disney hadn’t been the ambassador for color TV, pushing it towards consumer acceptance during the height of “Mad Men” advertising. It took about ten years however before color TVs became a standard appliance in most homes.
Today marks color-TV’s 60th birthday of its first broadcast. (CBS premiered its color broadcasting system with an evening of television featuring Ed Sullivan among others).
I for one, will celebrate by enjoying my DVD version of Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (the first full-length cel-animated feature in motion picture history) on my 42-inch COLOR TV!
In the 1960’s, only the well-off kids could afford a color TV in my neighborhood. If a family did commit to buying one, the decision was never considered frivolous. (The average income in 1965 was $6,600/yr. A TV manufactured by RCA had a starting cost of $399.99).Often encased in fine wood cabinetry (to match your decor style), color TVs required the physical attentions and space like any other piece of furniture that needed dusting. Even though it was an appliance, it was revered as a status symbol that defined a family as both technologically progressive and fiscally solvent.
The economics in our household prevented us from being a color family for many years. Luckily this wont was temporally filled by my maternal grandmother.
Every other Sunday, I along with my sisters sought RGB refuge at her house. With the smell of rye bread and the lingering taste of a free butter cookie on my palate (courtesy of a stop to our local bakery), our car spun down the NJ Turnpike towards Bayonne and TV nirvana.
We typically were not allowed to watch TV during the day. Sating the desire to see the 19" color glow had to wait till early evening. From a 5 year-old’s perspective this was years away. Fortunately, lunch acted as a diversion. Sitting around the chrome-plated, steel legged table in my
With the glow of afternoon gone, my ears would detect the vibrations of the reassuring muffled bass tones. Once arriving in the next room, my eyes consumed the divine splendor of cathode rays dancing along the surface of rose themed wall paper in the parlor (a.k.a. the living room).
A survey of the area showed male family members already ensconced in various pieces of furniture. The evening’s first act of programming—An American Sportsman was already underway. Offering previously filmed scenarios of bagged game and fishing exhibitions with celebrity guests, adolescents in the room usually found this to be a tortuously boring hour. My father however, saw this as a much needed weekly ritual to refill his depleted testosterone levels since our household consisted of a female majority.
Act II was Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom an ironic segue given the program’s intent was to promote animal conservation—a stark contrast to the previously watched TV show. Instead of seeing scenes of breath-starved wiggling fish being pulled into boats, we saw dart-gun toting zoologists and hungry predators stalking, catching and eating their prey—all in (bloody) full color. This present-day Animal Planet program, while interesting, often frustratingly delayed the pièce de résistance—Walt Disney's Wonderful World of Color.
While acts I and II aired, I often speculated on the eye-candy to be had that evening from the wooden box. Would we see The Parent Trap or an edited-for-TV version of the animated film Alice in Wonderland? Just about any choice would make the hour speed by. Being innocent at the time to marketing practices, none of us really cared what motivated Disney to finally broadcast his studio’s work. We were just glad for the opportunity to witness the magic while fantasizing about going to Disneyland one day.
I often wonder what the outcome would have been if Disney hadn’t been the ambassador for color TV, pushing it towards consumer acceptance during the height of “Mad Men” advertising. It took about ten years however before color TVs became a standard appliance in most homes.
Today marks color-TV’s 60th birthday of its first broadcast. (CBS premiered its color broadcasting system with an evening of television featuring Ed Sullivan among others).
I for one, will celebrate by enjoying my DVD version of Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (the first full-length cel-animated feature in motion picture history) on my 42-inch COLOR TV!