Down the Hall on Your Left

This site is a blog about what has been coasting through my consciousness lately. The things I post will be reflections that I see of the world around me. You may not agree with me or like what I say. In either case – you’ll get over it and I can live with it if it makes you unhappy. Please feel free to leave comments if you wish . All postings are: copyright 2014 – 2019

Warning: Senior Citizen Nostalgia Alert!

Geezer Alert!

THIS MORNING – I WOKE UP – GOOD NEWS THAT. I flipped on the television – it worked. Then I tuned to catch my daily dose of The Lone Ranger and/or Roy Rogers – uh, oh, Snafu in progress.

Where were they, Kemo Sabe?

I had begun to count on those two old cowboy “shoot ‘em ups” to drag me into the day. Now they weren’t there. In their place was some coverage of a rodeo. God bless ‘em, but I don’t care about rodeos. I want the shaky fiction of Roy and Dale or that Masked Man dressed in Powder Blue

You know – the Real West.

For me the Real West is the west of those ham-fisted morality plays where the bad guys all wore black hats and the heroes never got dirty even after a 90 second, roll around in the dust, fist fight with the villain.

My Real West dates from about 1950 when the shows from Radio and the “B” Movies were making the transition to the 12” Philcos. I never questioned the innate stupidity and horrible writing of these shows. I was just a little kid and they were more entertaining than “Meet the Press.” Actually, they still are.

When I was 6 to 9 years of age I never questioned that The Lone Ranger was nothing more than an independently wealthy vigilante who dressed very gay and had Tonto around to do all the dirty work. Today there would be dueling picket lines outside of the production sites.

“Equal Rights for Tonto!”

“Kiss My Kemo Sabe!”

That would have taken all of the high drama out of it for me at that age.

Of course Roy Rogers wasn’t any better, just different. Very different. Roy and Dale had their weekly (And weakly) thundering Oater firmly wedged in an anachronistic time warp.

Roy and Dale always rode their horses, but their comic relief sidekick (Obligatory casting) drove around in a Post-War Jeep. Even as a mere kid I found this to be confusing. Was this show set in the Old West or in the wilds of Ventura County? They are all living in this frontier looking little town where everyone goes around wearing gunbelts and six-shooters – then here comes this doofus driving a Jeep. In all those 30 minute episodes I never saw a gas station anywhere. Where was this Jeep filling up?

Details like that bothered me then and they still do. That is why my true pre-adolescent fandom was saved for “Hopalong Cassidy.”

Hopalong was a straight adaptation from the realm of the Saturday Movie Serials and 67 minute Feature Films.

“Hopalong’ – which I always felt was a weak sounding and rather disrespectful nickname, was played by an actor named William Boyd. He did the lead in the movie versions of this character and, seeing the future through the tumbleweed, bought up all of the TV rights. He was one smart cowboy.

Contrary to Roy and The Lone Ranger, Hopalong was getting up in years when his TV run began so he had to be more clever and use a stunt double when things got rough. He also dressed in all black to provide a little counterpoint to his gray hair. He wore black because everyone knows that black can be slimming. Hopalong also had the obligatory sidekick (It must have been a labor union thing.), but his second banana was even older. “California” always looked like he had spent the previous decade at the bottom of a bottle and slept every night by a Freeway underpass.

Despite their popularity I never whined at my parents to buy me a Lone Ranger mask or Roy Rogers gunbelt. No, I got myself a gen-u-ine Hopalong Cassidy holster and plastic cap gun pistol. Dress me all in black and I could have passed for Hopalong’s strange looking Garden Gnome.

See what happens when my morning TV viewing habit gets screwed with? I love a little gunplay in the morning. It smells like breakfast.

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7 thoughts on “Warning: Senior Citizen Nostalgia Alert!

  1. Larry Sommers on said:

    Hoppy was pretty great on radio, too. Brought to you by Sugar Rice Krinkles. And I loved eating those sugar-frosted Hopalong Cassidy Cookies that had his picture on the front of the box and always had some worthless toy inside, like a cardboard fold-in pistol that had a flap that flapped out and went Bang! if you snapped it in the air. Or a long streamer of crepe paper on a cardboard handle that you could twirl in a circle like a lasso.

    Like

  2. My parents were real Roy Rogers and Dale Evans fans. So much so that my middle name is Dale! But I try to keep it a secret so don’t tell anyone. Happy Trails to You!!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Sunday breakfast was sausage and eggs, milk and “The Cisco Kid” and “The Lone Ranger.”

    Liked by 1 person

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