Puzzling Evidence- Early 1950s

Young parents buy TVs to babysit Boomer brats. Programmers stumble upon the first reality TV with an exciting live event: the US vs. the Mob hearings. Enormous ratings for the law and order genre. Twice as many kids in each home…parents demand family sitcoms. Rock & Roll finds its Johnny Appleseed in Alan Freed.

The new Soap Operas:

1951: Search for Tomorrow and Love of Life

1952: The Guiding Light

1953: Follow Your Heart and Three Steps to Heaven
Early 1954: The Brighter Day and A Time to Live

Television

The majority of young parents owned a television set by 1950. Reviews were less than enthusiastic… John Mason Brown called it “chewing gum for the eyes.” T.S. Eliot remarked “It is a medium of entertainment which permits millions of people to listen to the same joke at the same time, and yet remain lonesome.” Perhaps the late, great Fred Allen explained it best when he said, “They call television a medium because nothing on it is ever well done.”

The harsh criticism subsided somewhat when TV presented its first amazing spectacular of a real-life event… the Kefauver Crime Committee Hearings: a great battle of heroes and villains, broadcast live (wrestling was also extremely popular in the early days of TV), with the government of the United States launching a full scale attack against the entire organized crime world. Senators grilled the Godfathers and the public learned all about the Fifth Amendment. The show soared in the ratings.

The networks realized that they had hit the mother lode, and soon “law and order” shows, such as Dragnet, Treasury Men in Action, The Man Behind the Badge, The Web, Man Against Crime, and Rocket Squad sated the airways. The networks pushed goodness to the next level on March 1, 1952, when the National Association of Broadcasters (NAB) accepted a television code, which included these four basic rules:

1. Shows will not sympathize with evil.

2. Shows will not degrade honesty, goodness, and innocence.

3. Figures exercising lawful authority should not be ridiculed.

4.Law breakers must not go unpunished.

Early Boomer children began to watch TV and the networks spoon-fed them “Truth, Justice and the American Way” in the form of kid programs like Superman and recycled old Westerns with Gene Autry, Roy Rogers and Hopalong Cassidy. A new Oater, Sky King, introduced a modern cowboy flying an airplane. What more could a Boomer kid want?

Every popular topic of discussion heard in the street in those early days was soon reflected in the TV mirror as a new show. The average household suddenly contained twice as many kids, giving parents twice as many headaches and family situation comedies flourished. The early 50’s gave us The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet, I Love Lucy, I Married Joan, My Favorite Husband, Mama, Make Room for Daddy, and The Pride of the Family. Note the progression of the titles here… the typical story of love and marriage in the early ‘50s.

In the superficial world of television, titles are often more important than the content of the show as an accurate reflection of the times. The early ‘50s, for instance, appeared to be a wonderfully optimistic time in America. To grasp a quick flavor of the mood of any era of recent American history, one need look no further than the titles of new Soap Operas, the shallowest form of TV programming. 1951 gave us Love of Life and Search for Tomorrow; 1952, The Guiding Light; 1953, Follow Your Heart and Three Steps to Heaven; and in 1954, The Brighter Day and A Time to Live.

The public obsessed on the American Dream, and the tube provided a forum. Star-struck wannabes sought overnight fame and fortune on Ted Mack’s Original Amateur Hour, Talent Patrol and Arthur Godfrey’s Talent Scouts; sub-amateurs depended on dumb luck on game shows like Strike It Rich. Young parents bragged about their brilliant Boomer kids and the Networks created Quiz Kids.

The first tidal wave of Boomers hit the public school system in 1952, and teachers, or rather a lack of them came to the attention of the public. TV responded with sit-coms like Mr. Peepers and Our Miss Brooks to assure us that the school system could handle the situation in its own bumbling way.

Television finally came of age on either (you decide) January 19th or 20th, 1953. The latter date included the Eisenhower/Nixon Inauguration… the first to be televised live, coast to coast… giving millions of Americans a glimpse of the pageantry and ceremony in our way of transferring power. A landmark in the history of television, but not nearly as big as the stunning event on I Love Lucy the night before, when Mrs. Ricardo gave birth to Little Ricky. Earlier that same day, Lucille Ball had produced a real-life boy, named Desi Arnaz, Jr., named after Desi, Sr., his father, who that same evening also became the father of a different baby named Little Ricki on the tube. Confusing, isn’t it? We Boomers have always had a problem separating TV from real life. In any case Little Ricki was the first Boob Tube Baby Boomer birth.

YouTube- Lucy and Desi “We’re Having a Baby”: <http://youtu.be/mQtjSm9p-hA>

Any mention of Pregnancy had been considered as taboo on the tube until Lucy’s physical condition forced the producers to include the subject on the show. Her double pregnancy (real and tube) became an extremely popular topic of conversation at the time. The event completely overshadowed the Eisenhower/Nixon gig. More than 70% of America’s TV sets tuned in to I Love Lucy on that very special night. Dickie and Ike only pulled in a small fraction of that number the following evening.

Rock & Roll

Boomer Rock & Roll finally found its Johnny Appleseed in 1950, in the form of disc jockey Alan Freed. At this point in his career, Freed had been turned down by most of the major radio stations in the country, so he jumped with joy when offered a job at WJW in Cleveland. Soon after, he met Leo Mintz, the largest local record dealer, who told him that kids of every race often bought a type of Rhythm and Blues, commonly referred to as “Rockin’ & Reelin,” a metaphor for what happens to the bedsprings after the lights go out.

Freed loved the sound and tried out a couple of those records on his show. The kids dug the tunes, and soon R & R dominated his time slot. Alan developed a style of “manic patter” between and over songs that captured and complimented the music. He began to call it Rock & Roll and his Moondog Show soared in the ratings.

Alan sponsored the Moondog Ball in 1952 in Cleveland. 25,000 kids, half of them White and half African American, showed up at a hall that only held 10,000… a slight problem in segregated Cleveland. Parents flipped out and Freed was forced to cancel the show… but not before the message had leaked out: “Regardless of race, kids just want to have fun and rock!”

The timing for Rock & Roll to emerge was perfect… television had badly wounded radio, and AM stations desperately scrambled for anything that would draw new listeners and sponsors. Other DJ’s on mainstream (white) AM stations followed Freed’s lead and started playing Rock & Roll. Teens turned on to the Black sound, but their WASP parents still dug Your Hit Parade and the Perry Como Show on television. The First Golden Age of Rock & Roll lurked just around the corner.

PE Mid-1950s

The Golden Age and the Dark Ages: Communists and Body Snatchers…Monsters of the Id (Forbidden Planet) in Richard Nixon and Tailgunner Joe McCarthy.

1955: TV offers the American Dream/ Instant Wealth programs for new parents and Kiddie Pap for Boomer kids. Hollywood delivers Rebel Without a Cause to War Babys.. Alan Freed plays “race music” for WASP teens on AM radio.

1956:…and then there was Elvis. Parents are infected with Rock Hysteria. Jukebox Musicals and the Bad Seed hit the silver screen.

1954: The Secret Storm, Woman with a Past and Portia Faces Life
1955: Date With Life and Way of the World
1956: As the World Turns and The Edge of Night

You are now entering the Golden Age of Sci-Fi Movies, the Golden Age of Television, the first Golden Age of Rock & Roll, the Golden Age of Baseball, Toys, Comics, etc. And yet, there was trouble in paradise.

Movies

The movie industry targeted the glut market of young Boomer boys with a new look to an old genre. Only a handful of Sci-Fi films (mostly of the “mad scientist” variety) had been made during the 40’s, but in the mid-50’s Hollywood couldn’t crank them out fast enough. The kids loved the weird stories as filmmakers explored new territory, using symbols and metaphor rather than direct confrontation, and examining subjects that serious writers wouldn’t dare touch… the bomb and after-effects, atomic radiation, world destruction, alien invasion and possession.

Our appetite for this type of movie grew, in part, out of the intense rivalry between the United States and Russia. Cameras in missiles fired from White Sands gave us TV and newsreel footage of our Earth rapidly receding. Americans watched in awe. A short time later, we observed white rats and monkeys floating in space, and these images sparked the imagination of the public. The number of UFO sightings multiplied several fold.

The Cold War heated up between the two superpowers and a feeling of anxiety and paranoia began to peel up the corners of our optimism. Communist subversion… an invasion from within by people who looked like ordinary Americans, but were actually pawns of an alien power became a popular topic of conversation. Kids in the ‘50s watched that plot repeatedly in films like The Thing (with James Arness as the giant carrotman), Invasion of the Body Snatchers (again, with the theme that Communism can turn one into a veggie), Earth Vs. the Flying Saucers (mind control, rather than possession), Invaders From Mars and It Came From Outer Space. Ray Bradbury wrote the last story, in which the aliens take human form only as a means of obtaining earthly parts to repair their spaceship to get the hell out of here, instead of the usual goal of world (or universal) domination.

The most interesting film of this genre in the 50’s was a lesser-known flick called The Twonky (1952). The twist in this one was that the alien took possession of a television set rather than a human being in its attempt to take over the earth. In retrospect, this may have been the best plan for world domination. For Boomer kids, the TV had already become the favorite family member. We were constantly at odds with our siblings and parents, but never had a problem with television during our formative childhood years.

Perhaps it was the first nuclear tests in Nevada (1951) or a delayed pang of guilt, as America considered the consequences of the two bombs dropped on Japan (1945) that led to a flood of “world destruction because of runaway technology” Sci-Fi films: When Worlds Collide and The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951), War of the Worlds, The Day the World Ended, Five (the last five survivors after WW III), and On the Beach (1954). Believe it or not, Boomers chose a foreign film from this category as their favorite… Godzilla, a gigantic monster who casually leveled cities while killing tens of thousands of innocent people. Many who didn’t get squashed fell victim to his radioactive breath. The tremendous damage caused by the monster was very similar to the real-life catastrophe (just nine years prior) when we dropped two big ones onJapan. It is interesting to note that in the many sequels, the Japanese people tame Godzilla and he becomes their friend to defend them from other monsters.

America was also under attack by monsters about that same time, and they were usually of our own making. Atomic radiation from bomb testing was responsible for giant mutated ants (Them), tarantulas, Gila monsters, crabs, etc. A bomb even woke up The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms. We Boomers just couldn’t get enough of these giants. As a group we could relate. By the second half of the decade, Hollywood had pretty well exhausted the entire animal kingdom, and thus, had to resort to human giant mutants in The Amazing Colossal Man and Attack of the 50 Foot Woman. They even tried a new direction with The Incredible Shrinking Man.

But what was the classic film from the Golden Age of Monsters? Don’t ever claim to be a Baby Boomer if you don’t know the answer. Time is up. The answer is Forbidden Planet (1956). The story was loosely based on Shakespeare’s The Tempest, with Walter Pidgeon as Morbius/ Prospero, who discovers the ancient records of the advanced Krell civilization on this brave new world. Morbius uses their technology to multiply his brainpower many times over, but, in doing so, he also increases and releases the suppressed evils from his subconscious. His Id Monster takes on a huge, hideous physical form and then begins a rampage of death and destruction. Morbius fights desperately to control his id. He is a good scientist with a noble quest. The human race can benefit greatly from this method of increasing intelligence, but only if it can first come to grips with, and then conquer the basic animal instincts deep within each subconscious. The message seemed clear… to ignore and/or suppress the id can only make it grow to such gigantic proportions that it will finally explode with an uncontrolled fury.

One must remember that the oldest Boomers were only ten years old when this complex film premiered. Kids were accustomed to lightweight eye-candy with conventional monsters, the bomb and world destruction, and before the end credits they knew that the good guys would always win… or, at least Boomers thought that was true before viewing Forbidden Planet. The film raised a lot of disturbing questions that the usual sources (school, church, TV and parents) were unwilling or unable to answer. Did George Washington have evils in his id? How about Jimmy Dodd? Gene Autry? Ike? The Pope? How about us Boomers… did we have evils in our ids? After all, little girls and boys began playing doctor about this time. Some of the oldest Boomers felt strange, new urges. Talking about such feelings was absolutely taboo in 50’s society, so many kids began to think they were misfits, freaks and definitely sicko. That opinion changed when they found out that Morbius, too, had monsters in his id.

YouTube “Monsters of the ID” <http://youtu.be/CrZagvsP3o0>

Television

In those early days of television only two men really understood the tremendous potential for mass persuasion by the medium. Unfortunately, those two pioneers had id monsters galore.

Richard Nixon’s career was in big trouble in the fall of 1952. He was about to be dropped as Eisenhower’s running mate. Charges against him revealed a secret slush fund that had been supplied by a group of California businessmen. Nixon convinced the Republican National Committee to buy a half hour of primetime television to explain his side of the story, and then Trickie Dickie did his thing on September 23, 1952, live from NBC’s El Capitan Studio. He admitted that he had received $18,235, but denied that there was anything illegal about the gift… it was merely a fund to “help me better serve my constituents.”

Tyrannosaurus Nix then quickly moved on to a real tear-jerk story about his poor childhood, his war record, the mortgage on his house, etc. Finally, as the climax of this heartbreaking tale, Nixon claimed that he had only accepted one “gift” in his entire political career:

“A man down in Texas heard Pat on the radio mention the fact that our two youngsters would like to have a dog, and believe it or not, the day before we left on this campaign trip, we got a message from Union Station saying that they had a package for us. We went down to get it, and do you know what it was? It was a little cocker spaniel dog in a crate that he sent all the way from Texas… Black and white and spotted, and our little girl, Trisha, the six-year-old, named it Checkers. You know the kids love the dog, and I just want to say this right now, that regardless of what they say about it, we’re gonna keep it.”

Hooray for Checkers! Hooray for Dick! How could anyone have the nerve to accuse this kind-hearted man of wrongdoing? How dare they?!

It should be noted that that same fall, Frank Walsh of West Hampstead, Long Island, shot his television set, explaining to the police that he thought that the show was too loud. Less than a week later, Frank appeared on Strike It Rich (“The program with a heart”), told the sad story of his rash action and won, yes, you guessed it… a new TV set.

The public overlooked a few minor indiscretions by good Americans like Richard Nixon, Frank Walsh and the ultimate champion of Democracy, Joseph McCarthy. No one was more Blue and White than Tailgunner Joe. (Had he been able to carry on his good work, Joe would have eventually had the color Red removed from our flag.)

McCarthy feasted on the paranoia of the mid-’50s like vampire. The Red Scare reached alarming proportions…Russia exploded its first A-bomb… Nixon nailed Alger Hiss, an accused Soviet spy in the State Department… The Rosenberg’s had been convicted and executed… a British atomic scientist, who had worked on the A-Bomb was sentenced to a 14-year prison term for spying for Russia. Spies seemed to be everywhere. “Sensible people” built bomb shelters. First Wave Boomer kids experienced frequent air raid drills and cheery little educational films like What to Do When They Drop the Bomb. The most popular of these contained a catchy little song: “What do you do when you see the flash? Duck and Cover.” Yeah, right. That should solve the problem.

Television began reflecting our fear and paranoia with espionage shows like I Led Three Lives, Foreign Intrigue, I Spy and The Man Called X.

Then Joe shouted “Commie!” and everybody jumped. McCarthy’s career, like Nixon’s, had recently been in the toilet. In a poll among reporters in Washington DC, Joe, then halfway through his first term, was rated last among United States Senators. McCarthy realized that he would have to act fast to keep his job. Joe delivered a speech in Wheeling, West Virginia, in early 1950, in which he claimed, “I have here in my hand a list of 205 (State Department employees) who are known to the Secretary of State as being members of the Communist Party, and they are still working and shaping the policy of the State Department.” McCarthy had no list, but he gained a lot of supporters and national attention. He quickly became the leader of the popular crusade against Communism. During his entire Career, Joe never produced proof to convict even one American citizen of being a subversive and/or a Communist. He simply accused, and that was enough to destroy the lives of hundreds of Americans. Red Channels (the “Report on Communist Influence in Radio and Television”) was published on June 22, 1950. Three days later, the flames were stoked by the invasion of Communist forces into South Korea.

When the Republicans took control of Congress following the 1952 elections, McCarthy was awarded a committee and staff. Joe considered that as a green light to go after the Reds. He dove into his new job with a passion and realized immediately the incredible potential of television to spread his message. Joe had a plan. Every time his name was mentioned by anyone on the tube, Senator McCarthy evoked the “Fairness Doctrine” and demanded equal time. On camera Joe would then launch into a new unfounded and unrelated attack on Commies, instead of using the time to defend himself and his methods. According to him, there were Commies everywhere… in government, churches, schools and even in the American Armed Forces. Half ofAmericabelieved McCarthy and the others were afraid to speak out for fear that they, too, may be accused.

Finally on March 9, 1954, See It Now with Edward R. Murrow, presented “A Report On Senator Joseph McCarthy.” Film clips of Joe’s work were shown and Murrow commented, “We must remember always that accusation is not proof, and that conviction depends on evidence and due process of law… This is no time for men who oppose Senator McCarthy’s methods to keep silent. He didn’t create this situation of fear, he merely exploited it; and rather successfully.”

The audience flooded CBS with telegrams supporting Murrow’s views. Eisenhower praised Senator Ralph Flanders (R-Vermont), who earlier in the day had made a speech in Congress criticizing McCarthy. On March 11th the Army charged that McCarthy and his assistant, Roy Cohn, had threatened to “wreck the Army and Army Secretary, Robert T. Stevens, if recently drafted McCarthy staff member, David Schine, was not given preferential treatment.” Public hearings were scheduled for April.

The DuMont and ABC television networks had little or no daytime programming, and thus decided to carry the full 36 days of the Army/ McCarthy Hearings. The public tuned in and quickly became addicted and many Americans stayed home from work or school to watch. The program reminded them of the good old days of the Kefauver Crime Committee Hearings. But this new show was confusing. “Which ones are the good guys?”

Tailgunner Joe had been our champion during the past four years, defending us from our greatest fear… the Commies. Up until the hearings, Americans had known only of Joe’s legend, but now, here he was moving into their living rooms, with heavy baggage in hand, for thirty-six straight days. Mark Twain had predicted the result of McCarthy’s intrusion into our lives half a century earlier: “House guests and fish begin to stink after three days.” Joe had come off as Superman in small doses in his quest for “Truth, Justice and theAmerican Way.” But now, the public got an overdose of McCarthy and his methods of bullying, smearing, accusing falsely, blackmailing and slandering. Finally, Joe was stopped dead cold when Counsel Joseph Welsh asked him point blank: “Have you no sense of decency, Sir? At long last, have you left no sense of decency? Until this moment I think I never really gauged your recklessness and cruelty… Have you finally lost every shred of human dignity and compassion?”

Tailgunner Joe vs Senator Welch on YouTube <http://youtu.be/MO2iiovYq70>

The hearings were unable to produce any official decision, but that mattered little. The unofficial decision of the public was that Tailgunner Joe was an idiot. Game show panelists began mimicking McCarthy’s frequent and outrageous outbreaks of “Mr. Chairman, Mr. Chairman…” Senator McCarthy became a laughing stock.

The easiest way to gage the mood of Americais to glance at the most superficial of mass-media reflections. The new soap opera titles for the post-McCarthy era were: The Secret Storm, Woman With a Past, Portia Faces Life (all 1954), Date With Life and Way of the World (1955), and As the World Turns and The Edge of Night (1956). Optimism to ominous warnings. Storm clouds gathered in our TV mirror.

The sequence of television show titles on the nightly schedule can be also be enlightening in reflecting an era. In 1953, for instance, when Joe McCarthy rode the crest of his power, ABC’s Wednesday night lineup was Through the Curtain, Answers for Americans, Take It From Me, Dr. I.Q. and the inevitable conclusion…Wrestling. Television programmers have always shown great unintentional historical insight and humor. The same night on CBS, Strike It Rich (as in the American Dream) was followed by I’ve Got a Secret.

Immediately after McCarthy’s fall the TV show lineups began to reflect turmoil. On Tuesday nights It’s a Great Life was now preceded by Truth or Consequences on NBC, Make Room for Daddy was preceded by Twenty Questions on ABC, and Life with Father was preceded by Danger on CBS. The schedule read like a Surgeon General’s warning, “Too much American Dream will may be hazardous to your health. Slow down, People.”

The whole McCarthy fiasco confused Americans. The concept of “Right and Wrong” got all jumbled up. The public didn’t know how to feel, or what to do, say or think about the matter, and wound up sitting on a fence with only two ways down: 1) you could rebel (always a youthful favorite) or 2) you could try to escape the problem by ignoring it (the mature method). Americans jumped to their preferred side.

The Escapists, of course, had God, TV and the law on their side. After five years of debate, the Supreme Court ruled in April of 1954, that the FCC’s proposal to ban giveaway quiz shows was illegal. The court’s decision was based on the definition of the word “lottery.” Game shows fell into that category and had been accused of violating the U.S. Criminal Gambling Act. The Court now decided that people were not investing “something of value” to play (and win) in this case, because game shows were a complete waste of time. The floodgates opened. The 1954-5 TV season brought us several exciting new quiz shows, such as Break the Bank with bigger and better prizes.

The Tailgunner Joe Show had been such a downer that the public rejected most serious tube fare, and live, dramatic shows dropped like flies. Three new TV genres filled the void in 1954: 1) Variety Entertainment on shows such as Ed Sullivan’s Toast of the Town, 2) A new style of family sit-com where Father Knows Best (no more bumbling authority figures), and 3) (and most important) Primetime Shows aimed exclusively at Baby Boomers (Disneyland).

1955

The American Dream seemed to be making a recovery in 1955… a year to believe in miracles. The Brooklyn Dodgers finally won their first World Championship after more than half a century of frustration and cries of “Just wait ‘til next year.” Most of the new television shows fell into one of three categories: 1) Instant wealth 2) Law and Order and 3) Boomer shows.

Among the money shows were Chance of a Lifetime, Treasure Hunt, A Dollar a Second, and the biggest big money quiz show yet… The $64,000 Question. Materialism spilled over into TV drama as Michael Anthony began passing out checks for J. Beresford Tipton on The Millionaire.

1955 was also a time for stronger Western law enforcement shows. Marshal Dillon on Gunsmoke loomed as a huge and menacing authority figure, who often felt compelled to slap around a much smaller man to “knock some sense into his fool head.” A big brute picking on a little guy… that scene would have felt so wrong even a year earlier, but now it seemed natural and justified. The runt probably had it coming and the public (our parents) trusted Marshal Dillon completely. On the subject of big, it was hard to ignore another new oater that season: Wyatt Earp, and his gigantic pistol. Sigmund Freud would have loved the symbolism.

Baby Boomers warmly welcomed Disney’s Davy Crockett, King of the Wild Frontier, and soon an estimated 100,000,000 raccoons were sacrificed for our small heads. The price of the fur shot up from 25 cents to $8.00 a pound. Disney also delivered The Mickey Mouse Club in 1955, and soon millions of kids donned rodent ears to watch the show. The secret leaked out… Walt Disney’s ultimate goal was to sell silly headwear to children.

Television at last noticed the vast Boomer Market, and immediately responded with Captain Kangaroo, Sergeant Preston of the Yukon, The Adventures Robin Hood, The Adventures of Champion, Lassie, Rin Tin Tin, etc.

Television commercials became big business by the mid-50’s, with four advertising agencies pulling in more than $100,000,000 a year each. Those figures doubled by 1960. Symbols were the name of the game… a good one brought in millions, eventually billions of dollars. The trick was to link a common, everyday, boring product with something exciting and of real value. Suddenly in 1955, for just a handful of pennies, a housewife could command a White Knight, who was “Stronger than dirt” to rescue her from the drudgery of cleaning, and hence, the fair damsel could live happily ever after. “And what can we do for you guys? Do you want to look more macho? Invest your coins in a pack of our cigarettes and you will be master of all you survey (including chicks) under wide-open skies… just like the Marlboro Man.” Sex and convenience became big sellers in 1955 when Playboy and McDonald’s began.

Romance and sexual innuendo didn’t work on Boomer kids, so Madison Avenue invented the Jolly Green Giant for us. The big, strong, friendly guy even “Ho-ho-ho”-ed like Santa. He symbolized the dollar bill to our parents, and as the Big Green Guy hinted that corporate vegetables are healthier than ones from the garden.

Movies

 While the majority of the population blocked McCarthyism from their memory, another small, but growing segment (mostly War Baby teens) landed on the other side of the fence. They felt a strong urge towards rebellion, but weren’t sure why or what or who to rebel against. In The Wild One (1954), a girl asked Hell’s Angelish, Marlon Brando, “What are you rebelling against?” He answered, “Whatta ya got?” That caught the ears of American teens and the movie industry. The following year, teens flocked to see James Dean in Rebel Without a Cause and as the “bad” son in East of Eden. War Babies entered into an intense, but brief affair with rebellious cinema. A decade later, Boomers fell in love.

Another film from 1955 fell into the new genre of teen rebellion, but cannot be considered a classic as the previous three. In some respects, however, this B-movie may have been more important in terms of Boomer history. Blackboard Jungle seemed like a typical classroom drama, but Hollywood teens had never had such a bad attitude before. The high school teacher in the film (Glenn Ford) faced much more serious problems than Mr. Peepers or Miss Brooks on TV.

Rock & Roll

Overall, Blackboard was just another, forgettable morality play… with the exception of the soundtrack, which makes it an immortal Boomer classic flick. Rock Around the Clock played loud and clear under the opening titles… the first time a Rock & Roll song ever received that distinction in a major Hollywood film. Parents viewed this horrible music as an evil and corrupting influence. Teens just thought that it was fun. In any case, Rock & Roll was about to become big business, Teens lined up around the block to see the film. Bill Haley’s song had only modest success when first released in 1954 (sold 75,000), but now opening a rebellious youth flick, the tune hit the charts again, and sky-rocketed to the top. Rock Around the Clock sold six million copies in 1955.

Bill Haley and the Comets struggled as just another smalltime Country and Western band until they decided to cover some R&B songs by Black artists. The group took hard rocking, but poor-selling classics, such as Joe Turner’s Shake, Rattle and Roll, and toned them down a bit, and whitened them up a lot to make the tunes more palatable to not-yet-enlightened WASP audience. Soon, other Caucasian crooners copied the Comets and commenced cranking out covers.

The music scene was ripe for Alan Freed. Things really started happening in 1954 when he made a triumphant return to New York City (no offense, Cleveland) and WINS, one of the big AM outlets that rejected Freed in years prior. Now the station had to offer Alan $75,000 a year, which turned out to be a bargain because Freed and Rock soon made WINS the number one market in America. The energetic DJ also began producing live Rock & Roll shows at Brooklyn’s Paramount Theatre, and kids of all races turned up in droves. To teens, The Blackboard Jungle was not a revelation but merely a confirmation.

If you listened to Freed’s show in 1955, you probably heard Turner’s original version of Shake, Rattle and Roll instead of Haley’s cover and Little Richard’s Tutti Frutti rather than Pat Boone’s. Alan received mounting pressure from sponsors to back off, but continued to play the originals. Freed believed that listening to White covers of Black music was like kissing your sister… a nice experience, but certainly nothing to get excited about. When the station manager forced Alan to play a cover, he usually followed it up immediately with the original. When heard back-to-back anyone could pick the superior version. White teens began buying “race music” by African American artists.

Up until 1955, the pop charts had been dominated by middle-of-the-road, white singers like Doris Day and Perry Como. On TV Your Hit Parade continued to be highly rated after five years, and Grand Ole’ Opry and The Lawrence Welk Show debuted. But on the AM radio dial, the sound suddenly seemed a lot less tranquil. Blacks crossed over from the Rhythm & Blues charts (where a sale of 10,000 was considered a hit record) to the much bigger, lily-white pop charts. Guys like Fats Domino, Sam Cooke, Chuck Berry and Little Richard finally reached the ears of Middle America. Tutti Frutti sold 500,000 copies.

1956

And then there was Elvis. About the time that Little Richard’s lovely image and voice shocked WASP parents across America, Presley auditioned for, and was rejected by Arthur Godfrey’s Talent Scouts. Colonel Tom Parker entered the picture and managed to get the young singer signed with RCA Records (November 22, 1955). On January 10, 1956, Presley entered their Nashville studio and recorded Heartbreak Hotel. On January 28, Elvis performed a hip-churning version of Blue Suede Shoes during his network television debut on CBS’s Stage Show (ironically, playing opposite The Perry Como Show and Grand Ole’ Opry on Saturday night.) Elvis was on his way. During 1956 Presley had fourteen consecutive million-selling singles, a total of 17 songs on the pop charts, two number one albums (ever since the first LP had been pressed in 1948, that distinction had usually been won by soundtracks from movie or stage musicals), plus, two starring movie roles. Few performers can claim an entire career as full as Elvis’s first year.

What magical powers did Elvis possess that enabled him to cause a drastic change in all three of America’s giant media image reflectors (Music, Television and Film Industries)? First of all, a vacuum caused by a large reflection-starved group (War Babies), just waiting for something like Presley to happen. Game shows occupied the grownups (our parents) as they searched for their fair slice of the American Dream. Mickey Mouse and friends dazzled Boomer children, as they tried to devise a plan to con their parents into a trip to the newly opened Disneyland. But what about all those teenagers caught in the middle… too old for Mickey, but too young for the $64,000 Question?

War Babies didn’t have much to call their own before Elvis. They related to Black Rock & Roll, Brando, Dean, and now, Presley. (The King watched Rebel Without A Cause dozens of times. When he met the film’s director, Nicholas Ray, at a party, Elvis recited entire scenes of Dean’s dialogue.)

Presley not only covered the Black sound (such as Big Mama Thorton’s Hound Dog), but also developed his own style which nearly matched the original. Blacks laughed when they first saw Elvis strut his stuff… a little tame by the high standard of performances that they were accustomed to. White parents weren’t laughing. They considered Presley’s gyrations as suggestive and immoral. WASP teens claimed a double-standard foul here. “How about your Jane Mansfield and Marilyn Monroe?” The Elvis issue confused Mom and Dad. When they looked at the boy, Presley fit the Wild One / Rebel / JD image with his greaser hairstyle, black leather jacket and the obscene way that he shook his hips to entice young girls. On the other hand, in interviews between songs, Elvis sounded like a God-fearing, good ol’ country boy. Certainly, this hillbilly kid seemed less dangerous than Little Richard, Chuck Berry and the rest of those “sex-crazed Negroes.” If only young Presley would tone down his act a bit.

The situation had to be considered by all Americans during the summer and fall of 1956, as Elvis got caught right in the middle of the biggest ratings war that the Television Industry had ever seen. Steve Allen hosted a brand new show in June, knowing full well that the competition would be very stiff… in the same time slot as Ed Sullivan. NBC decided to take the offensive, and on Steve’s behalf, declared a war on guest stars. Allen’s premiere show featured Jerry Lewis, Bob Hope and Sammy Davis, Jr. Sullivan  countered with the CBS Eighth Anniversary Show starring Lucille Ball, Phil Silvers and Marlon Brando. “Brando? So, Sullivan’s aiming at the Wild Ones.”

Allen retaliated with Presley on his second show, and the move boosted his ratings far past Sullivan’s. Ed responded, “Despite the ratings, I will never have Mr. Presley on because I host a family show.” Two weeks later, Sullivan signed Elvis to do three shows for $50,000… the most money that Ed had ever paid for any act.

Presley opened Sullivan’s fall season with a bang on September 9th. “Elvis the Pelvis” showed the world the meaning of that nickname, as he performed four songs very live. The studio audience went nuts. Sullivan grabbed more than 80% of TV viewers that night, and scored just as well with Presley’s second appearance in October. But CBS received pressure from thousands of “concerned citizens,” and thus, when Elvis returned for his third and final Sullivan show, Ed instructed cameramen to film the singer from the waist up, only. Wrong! Major mistake. Every Baby Boomer knows the secret of Hitchcock thrillers… what the audience sees is never as scary as off-screen, imagined horror. The moves that adultAmericaimagined Elvis made that night set off the Great Rock & Roll Civil War of 1956.

Families across the nation suddenly split apart on the issue. War Baby teens and Depression Kids (their parents) expressed strong opinions, and then built barricades to separate themselves from the enemy. Baby Boomers refused to get involved. After all, our oldest member was only ten years old in 1956. We sat back and watched the battle. Our day was rapidly approaching.

Presley’s timing was impeccable. He was a young man with great natural talent, but one can’t help and wonder if the Rock & Roll explosion of 1956 might not have happened anyway… even without Elvis. Tremendous pressure had been building up, and eventually, something had to give.

The landmark Supreme Court decision of 1954, outlawing the “separate, but equal” policy of segregation inAmericaincreased racial tension and segregationists claimed that Rock & Roll was a plot to infiltrate “colored” or “race” music into the defenseless minds of white teenagers. Asa Carter of the Alabama White Citizens’ Committee, described Rock & Roll as the “basic heavy beat of the Negroes, appealing to the base nature in man. It brings out animalism and vulgarity.” He claimed that the NAACP was behind this evil plot.

The New York Times March 28, 1956 edition had a story headlined as “Rock & Roll Called Communicable Disease.” Psychiatrist, Francis J. Braceland called the music “cannibalistic and tribalistic.”

Meredith Willson, playwright and composer of The Music Man, called Rock “Simpleminded and stale; the music of idiots. It’s dull, amateurish, immature, trite, banal. It glorifies the mediocre, the nasty, the bawdy, the cheap and the tasteless.” He went on to infer that Mitch Miller was responsible… “The Beard did it.”

Variety, on April 11, 1956, stated “Rock & Roll, the most explosive show biz phenomenon of the decade, may be getting too hot to handle. While it’s money-making potential has made it irresistible, its Svengali grip on the teenagers produce a staggering wave of juvenile violence and mayhem… On police blotters, Rock & Roll has also been writing an unprecedented record. In one locale after another, Rock & Roll shows or disc hops, where such tunes have been played, have touched off every type of juvenile delinquency.”

Movies

Low budget movie producers ignored these urgent warnings. Sam Katzman knew exactly why Blackboard Jungle scored such a big hit, and moved quickly to cash in on his insight. As a veteran producer of cheap B-movies, Katzman knew all about tailing comets… following a big box office smash with his own quick and dirty, low-budget copy. In 1956 Sam latched on to Bill Haley and the Comets.

Teenagers didn’t seem to notice total lack of plot in the jukebox musical Rock Around the Clock. Bill Haley performed nine rockers in the film, and the Platters added two more. Kids danced in the aisles in movie theaters, much to the displeasure of management and the local authorities. Several cities banned the film, which, of course, made it extremely popular among teens. War Babies rebels were no longer without a cause. The first true bard of Rock & Roll, Chuck Berry, proudly announced, “Roll over Beethoven, and dig these rhythm and blues.”

Rock Around the Clock packed them in, so Hollywood, like any politically-correct prostitute, refused to discriminate against any group (including African Americans and rebellious teens), so long as they had the price of admission. Most of the smaller studios followed Katzman’s lead with their own jukebox musicals. In Bill Haley’s next film, Don’t Knock the Rock, an evil adult planted alcohol at a high school hop and blamed it on the kids. The authorities refused to listen, so Haley and the teens staged a play for the irate parents, showing them that the music and dancing of 1956 wasn’t much different than that of their Charleston era. However, Little Richard’s high-powered performance of Tutti Frutti and Long, Tall Sally seemed to compromise the point.

Shake, Rattle and Roll, with Big Joe Turner and Fats Domino, offered pretty much the same plot. In this flick, the parents form SPRARCAY: the Society for the Prevention of Rock & Roll Corruption of American Youth. Again, the teenagers are victims of false accusations, and must prove to the old folks that Rock & Roll is just good, clean fun.Hollywood recycled this same storyline over and over again in jukebox for the next couple of years, but parents refuse to buy the message.

The movie industry hadn’t overlooked the biggest Rock & Roller of them all… it just hadn’t figured out how to package the King. Bill Haley movies and tours were causing minor riots all across the country, and studio executives could not even dare imagine how the kids would react when they saw Elvis strutting his stuff on the giant screen. Fox Studio approached the situation with great caution, and finally cast the boy in a Civil War melodrama called Love Me Tender. The billing read “Introducing (rather than “Starring”) Elvis Presley.” The King was forbidden to shake a single hip, and he turned in a credible, but not sensational acting job. Presley did sing on the soundtrack… but only ballads. Teens didn’t mind this mild performance… Fox could have cast Elvis as King Lear, and the kids still would have waited patiently in line to see their idol in his screen debut. Presley immediately went to work on his second feature, Loving You… a spoof on his own meteoric rise to fame.

Mainstream Hollywood couldn’t hold out any longer. The success of all these cheap jukebox musicals was just too tempting. Paramount released the first big budget, Rocksploitation musical in December of 1956… and it was a gem. The Girl Can’t Help It, directed by comedy veteran Frank Tashlin, starred the unlikely duo of Jayne Mansfield and Little Richard. The film opened with typical Hollywood sex-spoof symbolism. Jayne bounced down the street toting two huge milk bottles clutched to her breasts. For the first time teens were not the exclusive target audience of a Rock & Roll musical. Tashlin attempted to bridge the generation gap by pointing out the humor of Rock hysteria, but instead, accidentally blew up the bridge and expanded the gap into an enormous, bottomless pit. Middle age, middle-class, WASP America gasped at the visual horror of Jayne Mansfield bopping with Little Richard to that “hypnotic, corrupting, immoral jungle music.” Tashlin’s intended message of the scene was, “See, folks? Your morals haven’t been compromised because you enjoy a few movies with sex symbols like Jayne Mansfield, and your kids’ lives won’t be ruined if they listen to a few Rock & Roll records. It’s all just harmless fun.” Most white parents failed to grasp the parallel, and didn’t appreciate Frank’s humor any more than a man who has just slipped on a banana peel.

Middle America now perceived Rock & Roll as a real threat and a corruptive influence, not only to War Baby teens, but more importantly to tens of millions of pre-teen Baby Boomers. For every rebellious teenager inAmericain 1956, there were three potential juvenile delinquents under the age of ten. Could America survive the onslaught when the first tidal wave of Boomers reached teenagedom… less than three years away in 1959?

Babies had been considered as the National Treasure for exactly one decade in America, but in 1956, Boomers received a new image in the mass-media mirror… the reflection showed that each of us was a potential Bad Seed. Patty McCormack played the title role of eight-year-old Rhoda… a spoiled brat. (No, Patty wasn’t a Baby Boomer traitor. In real life Miss McCormack was an eleven-year-old War Baby.) When the child didn’t get her way, she eliminated disagreeable adults using methods that would make the CIA jealous. Her parents had treated Rhoda like royalty since birth, and she naturally accepted the responsibilities of ruling and passing judgment on her subjects… up to, and including Capital Punishment. Imagine her distain when a commoner, such as Leroy, the handyman, had the nerve to greet the HRH with, “Good Morning, Miss Uppity. We didn’t have no picnics when I was your age.” Rhoda, of course, put him in his place: “I really don’t care about what you didn’t have.” No adult could control the evil little Rhoda. Finally, God and Mother Nature intervened, and took the brat out with a bolt of lightning. The message seemed simple enough… spare the lightning rod and spoil the Boomer.

During their first decade of existence, Baby Boomers had been considered as the most valuable possession in the world’s most affluent society. At the time, the USA made up only 6% of the earth’s population, and yet, produced 2/3 of all manufactured merchandise, and consumed 1/3 of the whole world’s goods and services. America was running on all eight cylinders, as they used to say in those days. A few Bad Seeds would not be allowed to spoil the crop.

PE 1957

The entertainment industry offers role models: Leave It to Beaver for Boomer kids and American Bandstand for War Babies. Most teens passed on the latter. African Americans ask, “How do I fit into the new American Dream?” Elvis vs Pat Boone. Sputnik crashes the party

 

1957: The Verdict Is Yours

American parents felt a renewed sense of optimism and stability as Ike entered the White House for his second term in early 1957. They united with TV networks in a determined effort to lure present and future teenagers back to the American Dream with a fresh, new positive approach. Each group of kids, Boomers and War Babies received a role model media reflection. Boomers got Beaver; the previous generation got Dick Clark.

Television

Leave It to Beaver was created and written by the veteran comedy team of Bob Mosher and Joe Connelly… experts at breaking virgin ground on television. When Amos and Andy moved to the tube in 1951, the Network executives decided to dump the original minstrel-style, White radio actors and hire Bob and Joe as the creative force behind the first TV program to boast an all African American cast. Unfortunately, WASP America refused to accept Blacks as real human beings, and the audience dictated that the players remain in their stereotyped, “step an’ fetch it” mold. But the show went well beyond the lowbrow ethnic jokes of a Minstrel Show. The brilliant plots involved everyday problems that anyone could relate to. The troubles of Amos, Andy and Kingfish didn’t come their way as a result of their skin color… greed, pride, envy, lust and all those other deadly sins caused most of the conflict. The universal and timeless plots became basic formulas for television writers ever since. It is nearly impossible to get through an evening of TV viewing without experiencing Amos and Andy déjà vu. But racial tensions mounted in the early 50s, and Amos and Andy was forced off the air on June 11, 1953.

Four years later, Mosher and Connelly returned, breaking new ground on TV for another large minority… Baby Boomers. Plenty of post-war kids appeared on TV in 1957, but always in supporting roles. Finally, Leave It to Beaver presented stories from a Boomer kid’s point of view, and now, for the first time on television, Mom, Dad and War Babies (Wally, Eddie, Lumpy, etc.) filled in as supporting players. The Beav was the star.

The events of October 4, 1957, changed the world forever, as both Sputnik and Leave It to Beaver were launched. The Space Race officially began, and Boomers gained a foothold in television that we never relinquished.

Beaver was never a rehash of the same old plots found on every other family sit-com at the time. The stories were based on real-life situations, inspired by the numerous Boomer children of Mosher and Connelly. Thus, our generation understood the Beav and related to his angst. We felt his pain. When Beaver climbed that billboard on a dare from Whitey to prove there was no soup in the giant bowl, every Boomer in America climbed with him. Beaver suspected an advertising scam, but Whitey insisted. “It’s got to be real soup. Look at all that steam.” Beaver climbed up onto the billboard, peered over the rim of the bowl, and, of course, fell in. At the bottom, the curious young Boomer could now see the steam billowing out of a pipe. Just a phony advertising trick, and now Beaver was trapped in the illusion. A crowd gathered below. Kid viewers felt their hero’s frustration, embarrassment and disillusionment. Fate had dealt him a harsh punishment, and what, exactly had been his crime? Beaver had peeked behind the sacred cloak of media hype, and had broken one of the Holy Illusions. “Ignore the man behind the curtain.”

Meanwhile, big brother, Wally, the perfect War Baby, wondered why no one showed up for his record hop, until a friend informed him, “Everyone’s down the street, watching Beaver getting rescued by the fire department.” In a fit of anger, Wally cut loose with some strong War-Baby profanity, calling his kid brother “a little goof.” We could relate to that. Most non-Boomer people felt that way… just too many curious little kids always getting in the way. In any case, Beaver somehow stumbled through each week to a happy conclusion, and since he was the first mass-media role model for our generation, Boomers figured that we would wind up okay, too.

Parents on family sit-coms in 1957 fell into one of these two categories: 1) The bumbling, but good-intentioned type (Ozzie Nelson), or 2) The all-knowing, and slightly pretentious sort (Jim Anderson on Father Knows Best), always preaching the Victorian principles of the American Dream. Ward and June (the Beav’s folks) fell into that second group, and yet, seemed more hip to the times, and specifically to the problems of Boomers:

JUNE: “I’m not so sure that we should be pushing Beaver into all of these extracurricular activities. Why not just let him be an average, happy, normal child?”

 WARD: “Because in today’s world, an average, happy, normal child doesn’t stand a chance.”

Rock & Roll

Beaver caused a revolution in the established family sit-com genre, and about the same time, traditional music programming received a similar jolt with American Bandstand. Imagine the anticipation of the first show. The thought of a program devoted to Rock & Roll on network television thrilled teens and horrified parents… But Bandstand fell far short of either group’s expectations.

American Bandstand promoted the “clean-teen” (to the point of sterility) image; epitomized by the antiseptic Dick Clark as host.Clark had earned a reputation for “sincerity” on local TV… looking directly into the camera and flawlessly delivering the toughest news copy. Amazing. Dick’s eyes never wandered down to pages in front of him or in search of cue cards like other TV news guys. How on earth could he do that? Well, truth be told, Dick simply obtained the text prior to show time and secretly read the copy into a portable tape recorder. He then ran a long cord from the player across the stage, up through his clothing, to a hidden earphone. Dick activated the recorder with a foot pedal on cue and repeated what he heard.

Clark fit in perfectly on Bandstand. He knew very little about Rock & Roll, but Dick had the look: a Dentyne smile, Clearisil complexion, modest haircut and a nice suit. Parents had to admit that Clark appeared to be a fine, sincere model for teens, and more importantly, for Boomer preteens. The majority of Dick’s guests fell into the same category… little or no talent, but each had that clean-teen look. The music barely mattered as these teen idols lip-synced their way through two-and-a-half minutes of key-free echoes. Recording studio engineers were the real stars of these records. Comparing Clark’s mass-media-produced-teen-idol-superstars (Fabian, Avalon, Rydell, Checkers, etc.) with the real rockers of the time (Elvis, Berry, Holly, Jerry Lee and Little Richard): paper plates to fine china. But given the visual and audio limitations of a 50’s television set, who could tell the difference? Certainly not us… the most mature Boomer was only eleven years old with musical taste formed by the tunes on The Mickey Mouse Club.

Poor, rebellious War Babies thought that Bandstand had been created for them… right up until the end of the first record on the premiere (Whole Lot of Shakin’ Going On by Jerry Lee Lewis). Things went downhill fast as Clark then explained the rules of his “Why I’d Like a Date With Sal Mineo” contest, and then played I’m going to Sit Right Down and Write Myself a Letter to inspire teenyboppers with their entries. For actual teenagers in 1957, Bandstand had taken a drastic turn for the worse after only three minutes on the air.

Boomers immediately loved the show. They had never seen the classic Rock & Rollers in person, were too young to listen to DJs like Alan Freed, but old enough to watch any kind of crap that the networks cared to beam their way on afternoon television. ABC soon realized that Boomer preteens were the only audience remaining after the first show, and thus, followed Clark’s show with The Mickey Mouse Club on the afternoon schedule. Bandstand taught Boomer kids how dance, how to dress, walk, talk and be cool far beyond our tender years.

In his own way, Dick Clark was a genius. He never let his ego stand in the way of financial success. The kids were the stars of the show, as Dick readily acknowledged, “I’m simply an observer and a presenter.”Clark let Tony Mamarella, his partner/producer, choose all the music in the early days of the show. Dick knew that his expertise lay in other areas, namely public relations and merchandizing.

Dick eliminated everything from the content of the show that might be considered as offensive to parents. He enforced a strict dress code: boys must wear jackets, and girls must wear skirts. No jeans, T-shirts, tight-fitting sweaters, or cleavage. Lip-syncing killed the last bit of life left in any of the music on Bandstand. The director instructed the kids to smile, but not to laugh… to show parents good, wholesome fun, but at the same time, to assure the folks that their children would not become “over-stimulated.” Mr. Clark always stood in the background, acting as chaperon. Teens danced far apart most of the time, without touching or even talking to each other. Dancer/ choreographer, Agnes de Mille, remarked “The dance floor was not a group of couples, but a crowd of individuals. These dances are the expression of total, persisting loneliness and desperation. These are dances of fear.” Boomers could relate.

Dick Clark was a master of creating mass optical/ audio illusions. He and Mamarella made up the “Top Ten” for Bandstand… not based on Billboard’s National chart, or record sales, but simply Dick and Tony’s personal opinion. By an amazing coincidence, many of the regular top ten artists had been discovered by Dick on Bandstand, handled by one of Dick or Tony’s agencies, recorded in one of their studios, released their hit records through one of Dick’s outlets after being pressed by his record plant. Clark owned large chunks of thirty-three record-related corporations by the late 50’s and pulled in more than half a million dollars a year. “I proceeded to get into talent management, music publishing, record pressing, label making, distribution, domestic and foreign rights, motion pictures, show promotions and teenage merchandizing. That’s how I made my money. Everything was based on TV. I realized that, but the show was only part of my activity.”

Rebellious, anti-establishment War Babies felt that Bandstand snubbed them, and the feeling was mutual. The rebels refused to go into bubble gum sugar shock, and instead returned to their pre-Dick Clark, R & R heroes.

Television

1957 turned out to be a confusing year for rebels and establishment types as well. The Russians introduced Sputnik, Ford introduced the Edsel, and TV premiered a new type of Western anti-hero. Sputnik stunned avid believers in good old American ingenuity. How could those Commies have passed us in the Space race? When did they join the competition? And how could Ford suddenly be so wrong? The automobile industry had been the backbone of our economy for more half a century.

Have Gun, Will Travel and Maverick were the hot new TV Westerns. Neither fell into the old Law and Order category. Paladin, a hired gun (mercenary), wore black and quoted Shakespeare. The Maverick brothers, professional gamblers, quoted their old Pappy. All of our new heroes enjoyed women, aimless drifting, cards and a good bottle of whiskey, and never worried about bending the law to achieve higher goals… an abrupt change from Marshall Dillon and Wyatt Earp of last season.

In 1957, Perry Mason entered the courtroom on the small screen to defend all those falsely accused, and Joe McCarthy died. Eisenhower sent Federal troops into Little Rockto protect Black school children from Arkansas Gov. Orville Faubus, as White racists bombed Black churches over the issue of desegregation of buses. These horrible, brutal images did not show up on the big or small screen. The public did, however, witness something even more shocking on TV. American kids love watching Little Ricky Nelson grow up on tube. Then suddenly, without warning, he became a teenager! On April 10, 1957, “Rick” Nelson made his debut as Teen Idol on Ozzie and Harriet Show, with a cover version of Fats Domino’s I’m Walking. Finally, the network’s diluted version of the King was in our house… but where was the real Elvis? Performing his best James Dean impersonation in a couple of musical film noires: Jailhouse Rock & King Creole for his rebellious teen fans. And to cover all bets (and audiences), Elvis also released a number one record, aimed at pre-teen Boomer girls, (Please Let Me Be) Your Teddy Bear.

Rock & Roll

The music scene became an absolute circus. Rock & Roll proved to be more than a passing fad and the American mass-media industry volunteered to tame the beast. TV saturated teens with American Bandstand and numerous cheap, local clones. Tod Storz and Gordon McLendon started a “Top Forty” AM radio format, and soon only a few DJs in the country still had the freedom of selecting their own music. Parents encouraged their kids to buy only the records of clean-cut young men and women, like Pat Boone and Connie Francis, and avoid the evil influences of demons like Elvis. Rock & Roll under these terms felt like drinking Near Beer… intoxication is physically impossible with such a diluted product.

The Forces of Good chose Pat Boone as its young champion to smite the insurgent rebels of Rock & Roll. The Establishment suggested that Pat represented Heaven, and Elvis, Hell, and the two warriors locked in a fierce, holy battle to control the youth ofAmerica. Pat later commented, “I acted as a sort of catalyst, making Rock more acceptable and allaying fears that parents and ministers had about this revolutionary new music. Elvis and I were compared because we were successful at the same time. In fact, a media feud was even created between us. He was the rebel, breaking the rules and winning; while I was the conformist, playing by the rules and still winning.”

The Establishment boasted that their hero had scored five hit records in 1957, including the number one song of the year, Love Letters in the Sand, which remained on the charts for a record 31 weeks (seven at #1), and sold four-and-a-half million singles. What the Powers-That-Be didn’t understand was the simple fact that Pat Boone wasn’t Rock & Roll. R & R was excitement… Pat, warm milk and cookies. Good enough for pre-teen Boomers, but War Babies just yawned.

Real Rock got down to serious business. The beat became stronger and the lyrics bolder, as the pace accelerated toward the climax of the First Golden Age of Rock & Roll. Little Richard exclaimed, Good, Golly, Miss Molly (You sure like to ball), Elvis became All Shook Up (30 weeks on the charts; Eight at #1), and Jerry Lee Lewis confirmed that there was, indeed, a Whole Lot of Shakin’ Going on. Jerry Lee’s first big hit earned him shot on the Steve Allen Show. Mid tune the nervous rocker jumped up and accidentally kicked the piano bench across the stage. Jerry Lee remained on his feet, pounding the hell out of the keyboard, with the microphone stand rising up between his legs. Allen joined in the fun by picking up his desk chair and tossing it across the set. The Who later topped Lewis by destroying amps and guitars as a routine part of their show, but the Killer struck first.

Chuck Berry added fuel to the fire as he duck-walked and teased, “Dem ol’ folks started drinking homebrew from a wooden cup/ Started dancing and got all shook up/ and started playing that Rock & Roll Music/ It’s got a backbeat you can’t lose it…” War Babies joined in, “It’s got to be Rock & Roll Music!”

The Establishment felt scorned. What about Pat Boone? Dick Clark? Top 40 and the Beaver? Wasn’t all that great entertainment enough to satisfy these spoiled brats? How could they possibly prefer that cacophony known as Rock & Roll? Why not Pat? War Baby teens found their defiant answer in Buddy Holly’s first big hit, That’ll Be the Day (When I Die.).

One thing could be agreed upon by the music establishment, rebel rockers and adults in 1957: there were a heck of a lot of preteens out there, and unlike their Depression Era parents, these kids had pocket money. The music industry took aim at this very large and easy target. “Young Love” (three different versions of the song this year) emerged as the first big hit of the year, followed soon after by Ricky Nelson’s A Teenager’s Romance. Pioneer Boomers hadn’t reached their teen years yet, but many were old enough to suffer through their first crush, and thus, relate to Pimple Pop, and most important, buy the records. The artists understood the pain and intensity of puppy love. Paul Anka (only 16 himself) wrote and sang, “I’m so young, and you’re so old, this Diana, I’ve been told.” And what little eleven-year-old Boomer girl could refuse when Elvis teased, (Please Let Me Be) Your Teddy Bear? The song sold a million copies in the first two weeks of release.

“The rebels are trying to steal our little girls!” And if that didn’t alarm parents enough, Chuck Berry offered Boomer kids some questionable advice in School Days: “Close your books, get out of your seats/ Down the Halls and into the Streets/ Hail, hail Rock & Roll/ Deliver me from days of old.” Parents thought, “Well, that’s just a wonderful message right now when Russian kids are studying hard to design the next Sputnik.”

Boston banned Wake Up, Little Susie, the second big hit for the Everly Brothers. The thought of two youngsters of the opposite sex, breaking curfew and sleeping together outraged parents… even if the incidence was an innocent mistake, with no sex involved. “Whatya gonna tell your Mama? Whatya gonna tell your Pa? Whatya gonna tell the kids when they say ‘Ooooo-la-la?”

To top off this troubled year for parents, Alan Freed launched his biggest extravaganza to date: The Twelve Days of Christmas – Holiday of Stars at the Paramount Theater in New York… fourteen acts, performing six or seven shows a day, and each one quickly sold out. The bill included such greats as Jerry Lee Lewis, Buddy Holly, the Everly Brothers and Fats Domino. Top billing went to Fats, based on the strength of six number one records. Holly complained, but Freed calmed him down by making Buddy the highest paid. Jerry Lee also wanted the top spot and knew how to get it. During his set the first night Lewis exploded onto the stage with “You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain/ Too much love drives a man insane…” The kids in the audience took Jerry’s lead and jumped to their feet and started dancing. “You broke my will, but what a thrill/ Goodness, gracious, Great Balls of Fire!” Teens went crazy. Girls screamed and fainted as Jerry Lee jumped on top of his piano, still singing and dancing. The balcony of the theater emptied out as the kids pushed their way towards the stage. The ushers ran for cover and the cops became hopelessly tangled up with the young mob. Lewis literally stopped the show. The following night Freed awarded Jerry Lee Lewis the headline (and closing) spot with Fat’s full approval. No one wanted to follow the Killer.

Alan Freed began planning an even bigger show… a month long tour of “Jerry Lee versus Elvis.” The press picked up on the hype and called the tour “The Battle of the Century.”

The final insult of the year for music fundamentalists came in late December when Bill Justis’ Raunchy finally knocked Pat Boone’s April Love out of the number one spot on the charts. Bill, a studio guitarist/ producer at Sun Records (where Elvis and Jerry Lee began), performed a simple experiment with a slowed down vibrato and an exaggerated echo on his electric guitar. The result was a wailing instrumental, which caused parents to complain, “What the hell is that noise?” After all, they and their forefathers had grown accustomed to thousands of years of acoustic music. However, teenagers recognized that this electronic music symbolized something new, different and exciting… unique to their era and created specifically for their space age ears. Mom and Dad couldn’t possibly understand this new sound, and as far as the kids were concerned, so much the better. The electric guitar emerged as the dominant weapon in the arsenal of rebel Rock & Rollers.

POLITICS AND SPORTS

1957 had started out on such a positive note; the Cold War ran tepid and America felt like all one big, happy family under Papa Ike. Parents stood united, ready to win back prodigal sons and daughters by offering them lavish gifts of media magic, such as Beaver, Bandstand and Boone. But suddenly Sputnik rekindled the Red Scare, and Americans restocked their bomb shelters. McCarthy had forced citizens to speak up for their rights, and now, White teens and African Americans of all ages voiced a common feeling of alienation. They asked, “How do we fit into your American Dream?”

On December 1, 1957, in Montgomery, Alabama, a bus driver ordered a Black woman to give up her seat to a White man. Rosa Parks refused, and her arrest led to a boycott that lasted for 369 days. The bus line, city and State finally gave in, and from this demonstration, Rev. Martin Luther King emerged as a great leader; offering America a New Dream that included all people.

In a less political way, the two dreams had already begun to merge a decade earlier, when Jackie Robinson broke baseball’s color line in 1947. The event turned out to be extremely significant to Baby Boomers because we became the first generation of WASP American boys to grow up idolizing Black heroes. (I still believe Willie Mays was the greatest player the game has ever known.)

In this era of Big Business in the United States, one team, above all others had the corporate image in our National Pastime. Year after year the New York Yankees simply took care of business and always wound up on top (five World Championships in a row from 1949 to 1953). If the Yanks led the league, everything felt right and normal… as New York went, so went the nation and the American Dream. When they faltered, something seemed terribly wrong. In 1954 (when McCarthy ruled) the Bronx Bombers lost the American League pennant to one team of a “Red” persuasion (the Indians), and in 1957 (the year of Sputnik), they lost the World Series to another (the Braves).

1955 had been the miracle year of Rock & Roll and of the Brooklyn Dodgers in baseball. The “Bums” were almost as famous for their losing and bungling as the Yanks were for winning—until the Dodgers broke the color line in 1947. Baseball fans stopped laughing and other National League teams quickly followed suit, snatching up all the best Black players in the country. The N.Y. Giants brought Willie Mays to the majors in 1951, and he immediately helped the team to the NL pennant, only to be beaten by the Yankees in the World Series. The Army drafted Willie for his effort. (Shades of Elvis- This move gave the public two years to adjust to the idea that the best player in the National Pastime was suddenly an African American.) After his two-year hitch, the government reluctantly released Mays, and he immediately led the Giants to a World Championship in 1954. During his absence the Dodgers, with Jackie Robinson (a vet), won the NL pennant. As usual, the Yankees beat the Bums in the World Series both years. However, in 1955, Robinson returned with a supporting cast of black teammates, including Roy Campanella, Don Newcombe and Jim Gilliam. The integrated team defeated the powerful Yankees; thus ending more than half a century of “honky” ineptitude and frustration for Brooklyn Fans.

In 1956, traditionalists breathed a sigh of relief as “America’s Team” bounced back, not only to beat the Dodgers, but to insult them with a perfect game by Don Larsen of the Yankees’ all-white pitching staff. The elation didn’t last for long, however, as Hank Aaron, another great African American warrior, carried the Braves throughout the season and on to a successful raid of the Yankee camp in the fall of 1957.

America finally caught on… the power structure in our National Pastime had shifted. The American League had been dominant for decades. Everyone expected them to win the All Star Game each year, and, of course, the Yanks would win the World Series. But in 1947 the National League integrated, and within a few years, the power shifted. The American League claimed that it was all a publicity stunt at first, and then realized too late that these Black guys could really play. By the time the A.L. jumped in, all the best players from the Negro Leagues had been signed. The N.L. kicked their butts for the next thirty years.

At the conclusion of the 1957 season, another bomb dropped on New York. The Dodgers and the Giants headed for the West Coast. New Yorkers couldn’t believe it…sure, the owners had threatened to move many times before, but no one took them seriously.California had already kidnapped the television industry from NYC, and now, the two teams that had won every N.L. pennant from 1951 to 1956 deserted. “Thank goodness,” thought New Yorkers, “the music industry still calls us home.”

Bonus: John met Paul in July 1957.

PE 1960- 61

First Wave Boomers reach high school and crave Puberty Pop. U-2 Spy Plane and Candid Camera. Dick Clark is praised…Freed crucified in Payola hearings. First birth control pill is released and the role of wife/mother disappears from new family sitcoms. Restless America turns to JFK.

1960-61: The Road to Reality, The Clear Horizon and Full Circle

The pig in the python reached high school, and Boomer kids faced the same old problems… crowded classrooms and not enough textbooks or teachers. For the ninth consecutive year, we caught the public school system completely by surprise. One would have thought that educators would have picked up on a pattern by now, and plan ahead for our arrival one of these years, but it never happened. The freshman class doubled the size of that of 1959, and from 1961 until the end of the ‘70s, Boomers teens made up the majority in every high school in America.

Puberty Pop dominated the airwaves with pimply whines of self-pity like Puppy Love (Anka), Teen Angel and Because They’re Young. Brian Hyland hit it big with Itsy, Bitsy, Teeny, Weenie, Yellow Polka Dot Bikini (about an insecure teenybopper who was too embarrassed to come out of the water in her tiny new bathing suit).

The most important social responsibility in the life of most 14-year-olds was to learn the new dance craze on Bandstand. Dick Clark recognized this youthful obsession and created a dance specialist out of ex-chicken plucker, Chubby Checker. Fats Domino must have wondered about the choice of stage name for Ernest Evans, and Dick’s choice of music probably surprised Hank Ballard as Checker appeared on Bandstand to demonstrate “The Twist.” Ballard recorded the original version two years earlier, but didn’t have Clark behind him, and the record saw little action. Now, the whole country twisted.

POLITICS

Eisenhower certainly twisted on May 1st, as he heard that Gary Powers hadn’t returned from a spy mission over Russia in a U-2 plane. “But surely,” thought Ike, “if a brave American pilot was about to be captured by the Commies, he would have done the right thing… the patriotic thing. After all, Power had been given a chain to wear, with a silver dollar, hallowed out to hold a tiny needle treated with curare poison. One tiny prick and you’re dead instantly.” On May 5th, Khrushchev appeared on TV and accused the USA of “aggressive acts and serious aerial violations” of Russia’s borders. He offered no details. Within hours, our government explained to the world that a “malfunctioning oxygen system probably caused the pilot to black out and fly inadvertently into Russia.” Nikita displayed fragments of the U-2 plane the next day, and released the full details of the spy mission, which Powers had willingly volunteered to his interrogators.

Candid Camera (“The show that catches you in the act of being yourself”) became an instant hit. Network schedulers again displayed their amazing historical insight this season as The Twilight Zone followed a new show called Eyewitness to History.

With the Quiz Show Scandals out of the way, the American government took aim at payola in Rock & Roll, as they opened hearings on the subject on February 8, 1960. On March 4th, testimony revealed that John C. Doerfer, chairman of the Federal Communications Commission, had just returned from a six-day vacation toFlorida, courtesy of Storer Broadcasting Company. Ike realized that this was an election year, so he asked for Doerfer’s resignation.

Dick Clark appeared before the Harris Subcommittee in April. The court had ordered Dick to get rid of his shares in record labels and music publishing houses and he sold, at a huge profit, whole or part interest in 33 different music-related businesses. Clark still owned the rights to 160 songs, 143 of which he claimed “had been given” to him. He denied ever plugging any of his own tunes “consciously” on Bandstand. Dick’s company, Jamie Records, had been caught red-handed passing out $15,000 of payola, butClark said that he never accepted any bribes.

The Committee questioned Dick as to why tunes by little-known artists, like Duane Eddy, received more airplay on his show than King Elvis.Clarkadmitted that Eddy recorded with one of his labels, and was managed by SRO (a company he owned half of), but stated that those coincidences had no influence on his play list. Dick explained that he always devoted a spot on his program to instrumentalists, like Eddy, and that “there were darn few good ones around.” (Remember, this little piece of quick thinking happened years before Nixon earned the title of “Trickie-Dickie.”)

Clarkcharmed the Subcommittee. This wholesome, clean-cut TV host couldn’t possibly be out to corrupt the youth ofAmerica… he was simply a hard-working entrepreneur trying to turn a nice profit. What’s wrong with that? It’s the American way. Representative Harris called Dick “a fine young man,” and the Committee dismissedClark.

On May 19th, Joseph Stone’s grand jury in New York subpoenaed only one DJ: Alan Freed. For the next two-and-a-half years, the US government questioned and harassed Freed. Radio and television stations refused to even talk to, let alone hire, Alan during that period. Freed finally stood trial in December of 1962, and pleaded guilty to two counts of commercial bribery. The judge fined him $300, and gave Alan a six-month, suspended sentence. This marked the end of Freed’s career, but the government wanted to play with their mouse a bit longer. On March 16, 1964 (immediately following the British Invasion by the Beatles) another grand jury indicted Alan for income tax evasion. The IRS claimed that he owed $37,920 on $56,652 of unreported income for the years of 1957-9. Freed, already poor, unemployed and unemployable, entered a hospital, suffering from uremia. Three weeks later (January 20, 1965) Alan Freed died at the age of 43.

In 1960, the cruel hand of fate reached all the way across the Atlantic to crush two second-tier Rockers. A taxi accident in London killed Eddie Cochran and crippled Gene Vincent.

TELEVISION

The FDA licensed the first birth control pill, Enovoid, on May 9, 1960, and soon after, it hit the market… just as two million ripe, little 14-year-old teenybopper Boomer girls entered high school. (Remember Jerry Lee and 14-year-old Myra, an international scandal in 1958). Although it would take nearly four years for the pill to show a noticeable effect on America’s birth rate, Enovoid caused an immediate generation gap of misunderstanding between Boomer girls and their mothers. Eventually, the pill gave Boomer women a lifestyle completely alien to that of all the generations of American women before them; in fact, different from any period in millions of years of Human Herstory.

The two most popular new TV sit-coms of 1960 shared an important quirk in casting. The Andy Griffith Show and My Three Sons presented us for the first time with television family units that didn’t contain a wife and mother. Andy Taylor and Steve Douglas were in no big hurry to find a woman to replace their deceased mates for the sake of the children. The two fathers enjoyed their bachelorhood, and with the help of Aunt Bee and Uncle Charlie, their homes ran quite smoothly without Mom. Was television trying to drop a subtle hint, like “Hey, Ladies, get out of the house… Go get a job and stop making so many babies”? Steve had three kids; Andy had one, for an average of two. Most Boomer families had at least four children.

Andy Taylor’s new approach to law enforcement seemed just as strange and innovating as his no-Mom home. Law and Order shows reached a furious climax the previous season, with Elliot Ness and company slaughtering vast numbers of bad guys. In 1960 Andy didn’t even carry a gun to protect the sleepy little town ofMayberry. Good old common sense worked just fine. He scorned new criminal investigation methods and technology, and always outwitted the crooks and solved the crime before the finest criminologists from the big city even had a chance to unpack their fancy, high-tech equipment.

The whole Law and Order genre underwent a drastic transformation in 1960, with fewer tough-guy Westerns, and more cerebral detective programs, and funny cop sit-coms. Collecting clues and solving the crime became the emphasis, rather than just spotting a guy in a black hat and blowing him away. The world grew more complicated now. Was it Rod Serling or Gary Powers who really made us see that middle ground between light and shadows… between right and wrong?

The migration westward from the urban centers in the East slowed, and that caused a sagging interest in television Oaters. Most of the young couples that could had already made the move. The romantic notion of heading West to the wide-open spaces, “where a man can be a man” for many, turned out to be a mirage by 1960. Tract housing swallowed up the wide-open spaces. Rugged individuals commuted to Western urban centers, where a man was still an insignificant cog in the corporate machine.

The big push westward in the ‘50s created a need for more, and bigger, cars and highways. Most Americans became mobile as never before by 1960, and many of them arrived on the West Coast for the first time on their dream vacation. A popular cartoon at the time showed two old ladies looking out at the Pacific Ocean. One of them remarked, “I imagined that it was much bigger.”

Television also gazed out over the Pacific in the fall of 1959 and gave us Adventures in Paradise and Hawaiian Eye. In 1960, the fickle mood of the country changed again and this restlessness resulted in a new type of TV program. In Route 66 two young men wandered aimlessly around America in search of adventure in their snazzy, red Corvette. They, too, had reached the last frontier, had seen the Pacific, and asked, “Is that all there is?” The boys, disillusioned and restless, decided to retrace their steps to see if they hadn’t missed something bigger and more important along the way (Okay, so the show wasn’t Kerouac’s On the Road but it did reflect the restless mood of the country).

Sci-fi films in 1960 took us back to prehistoric times with the Lost World, and far into the distant future in the Time Machine. Is that all there is? The public wanted more. Millions of devoted fans had been waiting patiently for two year for the Second Coming of the King. Surely He would provide a cure for our restlessness. Instead, the Army released Elvis, and he soon hit the movie screens with G.I. Blues, cast as a boring, toned-down, ordinary guy. To make matters worse, Presley soon after appeared on a television special in a tuxedo with Frank Sinatra. To the horror of the faithful, the two smoothies crooned each other’s hits. What happened? Did the government perform a lobotomy on Elvis during his hitch in the Army, or had they pulled a switch? Where was the real Elvis the Pelvis? His loyal fans stood by the King until the bitter end, but the rebellious, pre-Army excitement never returned to Presley’s music.

POLITICS

Americans searched for new horizons, a new quest, a new media leader to show us the way, and a bright young man appeared out of nowhere, and offered to take us to the “New Frontier.” John F. Kennedy lagged well behind Richard Nixon in the polls and remained relatively unknown by summer of 1960, but America was mired in an age of Teen Idols and instant mass-media superstars. The first of four “Great Debates” between the two presidential candidates took place on September 26, 1960, with a record-breaking audience of 75,000,000 home viewers. Nixon wore a light gray suit which caused him to melt into the background. His face was unshaven and Dick appeared nervous and his body tense and out of synch with his words. Forced smiles, stiff posture and a tightly clenched fist made Nixon look like a guilty man hoping for an eleventh-hour pardon. Kennedy, on the other hand, displayed charm, wit, youthful optimism and charisma. Dick Clark would have spotted it immediately… JFK had “the look.”America would find out much more about its youthful President during the next three years, but initially, it was his dynamic image on the little screen that carried JFK to the White House. Never before had a historic, live event like this been possible, and never again would the presidential debates on TV have such an impact on the national election.

The country was ripe for change, and JFK led the way. As only the second President to be sworn in on television, Kennedy delivered a powerful inaugural address, in which he advised, “Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country.” With the energy and zest of youth, Kennedy brought complicated problems out into the open, and demanded answers with what many called “a cool head and a warm heart.” He was the first President to allow live television coverage of White House news conferences… a refreshing change from Eisenhower, who usually refused public comment on embarrassing problems like McCarthy, Gary Powers and discrimination. The public thought of Ike as a father figure forAmerica, but by the end of his second term, the negative aspects of that title overwhelmed the positive. Like any good father in the ‘50s, Ike only told us as much as he thought our immature minds could handle. But we heard about the ugliness of Tailgunner Joe, U-2 planes andCubafrom other sources, and we wondered why Papa Ike hadn’t warned us. Kennedy acted more like a big brother… willing to include the public in an open discussion on any problem. And like a good big brother, JFK stood up to bullies (i.e. Khrushchev and Castro) in our behalf.

Kennedy, a Catholic, was the first non-WASP president, and the first born in the 20th Century. He projected new hope thatAmericamight finally deal with social problems concerning all citizens. JFK openly attacked racial discrimination, urban decay, and even the vehicle that he rode in on to the White House (television). Kennedy’s new chairman of the FCC, Newton Minow, delivered this message to the National Association of Broadcasters, accusing them as the creators of a “vast wasteland.”

Television

In its own diluted and slightly inadequate way, television tried to respond to the criticism. Several new realistic urban dramas dealing with contemporary situations premiered in 1961. Doctors, lawyers and other modern professionals replaced barbaric, frontier law-and-order types as our boob tube heroes. Interns, Dr. Kildare and Ben Casey appeared as young, bright, handsome and strong-willed… just like JFK. The networks reminded the audience, however, that the hardheadedness of youth needs the guiding hand of experience, in the likes of Senior Doctors, Gillespie and Zorba. The younger duo often lost patience, and occasionally patients, but could never be faulted for lack of effort.

The young attorneys on The Defenders were another hard working, dedicated, socially committed group. Even though they fought on the side of goodness and righteousness (like the new breed of TV doctors), they were human and sometimes failed… a refreshing change of pace from Perry Mason, who had not lost a single verdict during his four years in the courtroom on the same station.

Not all of Americahad converted to Kennedy’s “optimism in the face of crisis” by the end of 1961. A large segment of the population continued to experience a nervous, restless urge to put on their walking shoes, and that feeling was reflected in the media. The pop charts overflowed with “moving” titles like Runaway (Del Shannon), Running Scared (Roy Orbison), Traveling Man (Rick Nelson), Hit the Road, Jack (Ray Charles), Tossin’ and Turnin’ (Bobby Darin), and Exodus (movie theme).

Television couldn’t afford to lag behind. New shows offered us a chance to Follow the Sun, and to go on an Expedition. Wives and Mothers were conspicuously absent in Mayberry and the Douglas household in 1960, but in 1961, one woman returned with new plan in Mrs. G. Goes to College. (A “stop making kids, go back to school” hint from the networks?) Many people missed the old hardcore law and order shows, and TV reflected their concerns with Car 54 Where Are You? These cops arrived on the scene with the deadliest new weapon in TV’s arsenal… the laugh track.

Program schedulers demonstrated their usual insight, this time in recognition of the growing overpopulation problem (us Boomers): Checkmate followed Father Knows Best (Wed. CBS) and Eyewitness to History followed Twilight Zone, which in turn followed Father of the Bride. Why didn’t they simply title the entire evening: Big Families Are Out, So Stop Making Babies?