Lost in the '50s tonight

Some nights when I can't sleep (like tonight), I like to put on old black-and-white movies or TV shows. The monochrome casts just the right glow across the room. Sometimes I even drift off to dream.

Well, that didn't exactly happen tonight, as you can tell by fact I'm still up. But, the show was "Ozzie and Harriet" and that probably explains it.

I watched an episode in which Rick Nelson sang his 1950s rock-and-roll songs and wooed his too good to be that beautiful date Sandy. And I thought to myself, "What I wouldn't give to have been a '50s teen idol."

Oh, I know it's a lie. Nobody (not even Rick) had that kind of life. Yes, he was a teen idol. But, he was addicted to drugs and enjoyed a less than perfect relationship with his wife Kris.

But, for a couple of years, Rick was nearly as popular as Elvis. He rode high until the British Invasion made malt shops and doo wop obsolete.

It's funny. "Ozzie and Harriet" isn't the show people think it is. Ozzie was the first of what became a trend years later -- the dumbass dad. He and Harriet slept in the same bed long before that became the norm on a TV sitcom. Sons David and Ricky fought all the time. In short, it was as real a family as the boob tube would allow. Maybe because they were a real family in real life.

Still, few could boast a life like the Nelsons. All their dates were stunning. Everybody could play and sing. Life was good, full of the innocent confidence of the Eisenhower years. It is a nice illusion. And I suspect it was stifling for those who thought that was the way you were supposed to live.

Maybe that's why I like it so much, though. Those who know me well will tell ya that I don't have too much in common with my generation. Sometimes I feel adrift, Jimmy Buffett's pirate, 200 years too late, lost in a world that doesn't mesh with my mind-set.

These early morning screenings of this sweet fantasy feed that part of my soul. It is relaxing. Maybe that's why I can often fall asleep.

Doesn't change the fact that I wish I'd been a teen idol. If for no other reason than to sing to the pretty girls.

So real, so right, lost in the 50s tonight...

'It's Late': Remembering Rick Nelson

I think I was born 30 years too late.

My friend Kathy sent me some groovin' stuff by the late, great Eric "Ricky" Nelson. What I wouldn't give to be sitting in a malt shop somewhere, coiffed in a crew cut, downing a Cherry Coke and flirtin' with long-haired girls in poodle skirts.

My dad introduced me to Rick's music years ago. (For some reason, I seem to have adopted a lot of my parents' music. I don't know what exactly that says about me, other than it's a fact.) What an underrated talent that guy was.

He was such a hoot as a little guy on his parents' popular "Ozzie and Harriet" TV show. Rick was the spunky brother, the one who didn't take no for an answer, the kid who would climb up on the roof to get in the house when Ozzie locked the family outside, the terror who would interrupt his brother's dates -- and steal the show in the process.

And he was a top-rate musician. Sure, some of his songs were corny, but could he ever rock his ass off. The song that got him into so much trouble at the infamous Madison Square Garden concert (which led to his writing the all-time classic "Garden Party"), a cover of the Rolling Stones' "Honky Tonk Women," is mighty fine indeed.

The Nelsons are quite a talented clan. You know about Ozzie, Harriet, David and Rick. What you may or may not know is that Rick's kids are all successful, too. Matthew, Gunnar and Sam are fine singers in their own right; Sam is also a music industry executive; daughter Tracy simply shined as the crime-solving nun on "Father Dowling Mysteries" a few years ago.

Rick died tragically, as so many singers seem to do, in a 1985 plane crash. For whatever reason, I don't think he's ever received the credit he deserves as a major player from the golden era of American rock-and-roll music. I dare say that his "Garden Party" is one of the best songs to emerge during the last half of the 20th century.

So here I am, adrift in the '50s again, a bit amused at how I got here. Forgive me if I pat my foot and sing along awhile.

It's late, gotta get on home, it's late, been gone too long...

You da man, Rick!

Blast from the past

I'm blaming this on that Sam Sheppard book.

Finally finished it, by the way. Good read. I'm convinced that Dr. Sheppard didn't kill his wife. Little good it does him, nearly 40 years dead, three trials and 54 years after the fact.

Read the book if you're into such things. It's called "The Wrong Man" by James Neff, and is one fine piece of reporting.

And so I've landed back in the '50s these past few days, a place I've liked to visit since watching "Happy Days" as a kid. Yeah, I know that show is an illusion. This is my story. Let me dream.

I regularly watch "What's My Line?", the classic TV game show, which airs late at night on GSN. Currently airing episodes were originally broadcast in 1955. Things were better, things were worse, but one thing is undeniable: we were a more literate country then.

Take Bennett Cerf. There's no way an urbane publisher would appear on a TV game show today. They'd find some vapid blond celebrity instead. I seriously doubt if a well-known columnist like Dorothy Kilgallen would be included today, either.

Late last night, I watched a few episodes of that classic '50s comedy, "Ozzie and Harriet." I lost myself in its innocence, but was also intrigued by a few things.

People have an image of early TV sitcoms as being these neat little fantasies in which the father comes home, puts on a sweater, and solves the family's problems in 30 minutes. But, guess what? Ozzie was portrayed as a likable dolt, the joke almost always on him. He had no obvious source of income, and seemed to just hang around the house a lot. Oh, it was innocent, but David and Rick, the two sons, fought like all real-life siblings fight.

Rick was my favorite part of the show. He was a precocious kid in the early episodes, looking scrubby-clean in his crew cut. As a teenager, he became a real-life teen idol, and many of his songs were woven into the series. ("Stood Up" was the hit on the episodes I screened from Netflix last night.)

Of course, this notion of the 1950s as an suburban idyll overlooks the problems of the era -- segregation, repression, blandness, Communist witch hunts, a whole bunch of other stuff. Heck, the Sheppard trial tells you that. The good doctor was an adulterer, if not a murderer. Nobody was perfect in any era. Humans are basically always human. Just read Shakespeare.

But, it was a good place to land for a few minutes over the weekend. I don't care what you say, I still like that music better...