Today it appears that many of you found this blog by searching for “jimmy fallon tgif themes,” ostensibly referring to the TGIF theme song medley performed on Late Night last April by a capella superstars Straight No Chaser. While those readers were on the right track, the video from Late Night is, unfortunately, no longer available. However, fret not, because we’re going to do better than that TGIF-only medley. Below, find a more inclusive sitcom medley from Straight No Chaser, one that will satisfy your TGIF cravings (Full House, Perfect Strangers), but will also ask you to show them that smile again.
And, just because, here’s SNC (as their fans lovingly refer to them) with their rendition of one of our all-time favorite jams:
It’s Wednesday night and, thanks to Straight No Chaser, we feel all right (also, we’re getting pizza!).
Well, we weren’t devastated. Maybe it was because we were still ecstatic from the Jets victory, and that residual giddiness made us a little more lenient, a little looser (the beers couldn’t have hurt either). Whatever it was, we were in a good mood, and Jim Carrey’s return to SNL didn’t ruin it. It wasn’t a landmark episode, or a groundbreaking night, nor did they seem that they were fully back from vacation. But, given our lofty, unrealistic, expectations, it was satisfying. And (unfortunately), that’s enough.
And let’s, for a change, start at the top. We often completely ignore the cold open when reviewing SNL, because it’s usually one of the weakest, least memorable parts of the show, certainly in non-election years. We can’t pinpoint when it started exactly, but perhaps it’s been since the great Bush-Gore battle of 2000 that the cold open has almost felt obligated to be political sketch. Often times that’s made for great, funny television (Amy Poehler as Hillary Clinton, Tina Fey as Sarah Palin, occasionally Jason Sudeikis as Joe Biden), but more often than not we’re treated to a mildly amusing address from by Fred Armisen as President Obama. It’s become predictable and somewhat boring. So what a surprise it was for the show to begin and discover Armisen not as Obama but as NYC Mayor Michael Bloomberg.
Well, it’s been a big week for Growing Pains news. Unfortunately, this latest development is of the sadder variety, as we’ve lost another member of the Growing Pains family. It was announced today that veteran actor, Bill Erwin passed away at his home on December 28th, at the admirable age of 96. You may know him best as Sid Fields from Seinfeld, the old man whom Jerry volunteers to assist, a role for which Erwin was nominated for an Emmy. However, long before Seinfeld, Erwin had already made an indelible mark on us from his many appearances on Growing Pains. Over six seasons Erwin appeared on the sitcom eight different times as seven different characters, from Buzz the plumber to Lloyd the fumigator to the school janitor (he was the go-to old man for thankless blue-collar jobs, evidently). He was like Bruce Willis in North, or Rachel Dratch in the first season of 30 Rock, there whenever the Seavers needed him, in whatever guise was most appropriate. We’ve seen him in many roles since then, some he shot after, some he shot before, but, to us, he’ll always be the old man from Growing Pains.
And here he is as Bubs the mechanic, from the Growing Pains meta-episode “Meet the Seavers:”
And if you watched Home Alone over Christmas (like we did a couple of times) you might also recognize Erwin as the old man in the Scranton airport who refuses to give up his plane tickets to Mrs. McCallister:
TV and film just lost a good one, that’s for sure.
If you’re a regular visitor to Jumped the Snark you’ll know that some of our greatest pleasure derives from those delightful occasions when Anderson Cooper rips a deluded, misguided, self-serving and/or reprehensible guest to pieces. He did it with former Michigan Assistant Attorney General Andrew Shirvell and with Congressman Michelle Bachmann and with Amazon. So imagine our excitement when he welcomed Kirk Cameron as a guest last night. Finally, someone would nail Cameron for forcing the producers of Growing Pains to write former Playmate Julie McCulloughoff the show, leaving Mike Seaver at the altar, and leaving us stunned. Cooper could have authoritatively questioned Cameron about letting his Christian values dictate the course for the sitcom. He could have asked what’s the deal with Way of the Master. Or what was it like to work with a Canadian like Alan Thicke. Or even, on a serious note, he could have inquired about the late Andrew Koenig (let alone mention of this). Nope. All they did was talk about the dead blackbirds and fish in Arkansas. Boring (also, huh?)! That’s a big miss, Anderson, and we’ve come to expect more from you.
Also, isn’t bringing Kirk Cameron on as an Armageddon expert just the kind of thing that Cooper would rail against, castigating its inherent absurdity? Perhaps he did that later in his “Keeping Them Honest” segment, putting himself on trial. If so, he’s won us back. If not, for shame, Anderson. For shame.
Well, this one has been giving us fits for the last few days. We utilized the full extent of our internet scouring capabilities (and, not to sound conceited, we’re pretty great at finding random stuff on the internet) and came up empty. But, for some reason, people keep searching for “leonardo dicaprio christmas.” Unable to track down a Growing Pains Christmas episode featuring Leo’s Luke Brower, we decided to go ahead and create our own Leonardo DiCaprio Christmas moment. Keeping within the confines of Growing Pains, of course.
So, now, all of you who were looking for a Leonardo DiCaprio Christmas photo, you’ve found it.
Every era has its own specific genre of TV show, and within that genre there’s a hierarchy: the forerunners, the second-rate but solid middle class and the imitators. For example, in the late ’90s you had shows like Friends and Seinfeld at the forefront of the “good-looking single young people in NY” genre, and then a second tier, with shows like Mad About You, that were good, not great, but still run for over 100 episodes, and then you had outright copycats like The Single Guy and It’s Like…You Know that burn out after one or two seasons. Or in the 1970s (as you can read much more about in the AV Club’s ‘70s Sitcom Primer), you had the top dogs like All in the Family and Mary Tyler Moore, then a second level with series like Maude and Rhoda, and then the bottom rung with shows we’ve never heard of because we’re too young (but possibly including Bridget Loves Birney). Likewise, the late ’80s/early ’90s was the golden age for saccharine, safe, wholesome family sitcoms, a genre which basically dominated the airwaves from about 1986 until Seinfeld and Friends changed the game in the mid-’90s. Your preeminent shows in this era included The Cosby Show, Growing Pains and Full House, who were a cut above other successful shows like Who’s The Boss?, Family Matters and Major Dad; and then you had the bottom layer, cheap xeroxes and flashes in the pan like Baby Talk, Getting By, and Day By Day. Right there, in that second tier – the shows that never set the ratings world on fire, programs that are not looked back on as innovators in the genre, and yet ran for many seasons in first run broadcast and in syndication – you can find The Hogan Family. Premiering in 1986 as Valerie, starring Valerie Harper (of MTM and Rhoda, mentioned above), and morphing into Valerie’s Family and ultimately the Hogan Family after Harper left the show due to creative differences following the second season (killed off via car accident on the show), the show ran for 6 seasons with 110 ten episodes across two networks. It never won any major awards, was never critically acclaimed, and was never atop the Nielsens. And yet it was a staple on NBC for many seasons (paired with ALF, natch), and could be seen for years in reruns on local channels and basic cable networks. Buoyed by Sandy Duncan, who stepped in for Harper as Aunt Sandy (creative!), it was a workhorse; a dependable, middle of the road sitcom that perhaps defines the era. Also, no other show featured Edie McClurg and Willard Scott.
Before he was Michael Bluth, Jason Bateman was David Hogan, and if not for the brilliance of Arrested Development (which couldn’t be further from The Hogan Family on the sitcom scale) that could have been his most memorable role (besides Teen Wolf Too. And this). But The Hogan Family is where he cut his chops (and for which his work as director qualified him as the youngest ever member of the DGA), and you can see a little bit of oldest brother David Hogan in most responsible brother Michael Bluth, both of whom often had to play the father figure in their respective TV families.
Indeed, one could argue that Bateman’s finest work can be found in the Hogan Family episode “Burned Out, as the Hogan clan, still reeling from the loss of their matriarch, must watch helplessly as their house burns down, the result of a rogue lamp in the attic (because that sort of thing happened in those days). Scroll to approximately 6:00 to see Bateman work his magic.
Interesting bit of trivia about this episode, courtesy of Wikipedia:
The episode had a commercial tie-in with the McDonald’s Corporation, who financed the expenses accrued in damaging the set for the fire. As a sponsor that evening, McDonald’s commercials aired promoting fire safety.
Because that makes sense.
McDonald’s, we know we speak for Jason Bateman when we say thank you. Thank you.
And, because it’s somewhat relevant, let us again remind you about Justine Bateman.
Last night on American Idol Crystal Bowersox wowed us yet again by taking on Gladys Knight & the Pips’ “Midnight Train to Georgia,” stepping out from behind the acoustic guitar to behind a piano and then stepping out from behind said piano. Despite what Simon said, it was lovely to see another side of her, because no matter the instrument or the shoes or the hair it was still quintessential Bowersox.
But, as my sister remind me, many of us (or just my sister and I) best know this classic tune as performed by Kirk Cameron and Tracey Gold on Growing Pains. Could it be that Bowersox grew up addicted to the show just like us? Will she put her own spin on “Show Me That Smile” during “Classic TV Themes Week? One can only hope and pray (although it seems that Chris Daughtry has beat her to it).
Ever since Seinfeld, opening title sequences have been getting shorter and shorter, culminating in the extreme minimalism of the LOST opening, which is no more than a word and a musical note, and is just about pitch perfect. But although they get a blue ribbon for their short, straight to the point title card, one whose brevity allows for maximum time to present questions they most likely won’t answer, fans seem to desire something more traditional, over the years creating mash-up credit sequences inspired by Growing Pains, The A-Team, Full House and Friends. But they all pale in comparison to this Saul Bass-style opening:
Vodpod videos no longer available.
Pretty flawless.
New challenge: LOST in the key of My Two Dads. Any takers? Winner gets a case of Dharma fish biscuits.
Foreward: Jumped The Snark updates have been few and far between for the last few weeks (in fact, they’ve been non-existent), because I have been in the process of moving out of LA, driving cross-country, and settling in back in NY. I’d been hoping to get back to the blog sooner than this, and certainly on a much lighter note. But while I’ve still just made a dent in my to do list (chief among them: get a job, so let me know if you hear of anything), it feels important that I note this tragedy, even if it’s not the way I wanted to return to the blogosphere.
This is not an obituary. This is not a eulogy. This is not a tribute. This is just some words and thoughts and memories.
I can still vividly recall one night twenty-one years ago when I planted myself in my parents bed to watch ABC’s Saturday night comedy line-up, anchored by heartthrob Kirk Cameron and Growing Pains. Unfortunately, to my great surprise/disappointment, when the show started I learned that Richard “Boner” Stabone decided to leave his comfy Long Island confines for the Marines, choosing his future before it chose him, and officially growing up beyond his rather unfortunate moniker (one that somehow got by the censors all those years). As a child Growing Pains was my favorite show; I would constantly watch it in reruns, instead of playing “house” my friend and I would play “Growing Pains,” and even a secondary character like Boner felt like family to me. And the idea that Boner was leaving, possibly forever, deeply troubled me. In fact, I started bawling uncontrollably, consoled only by my sister’s suggestion that perhaps he would resurface in a spin-off, The Boner Show (and, at the time, the idea of a program being called The Boner Show, didn’t seem particularly bawdy or unlikely to me, and if Coach Lubbock got a spin-off, why not Boner?). But, as you know, that never happened, and Boner never came back to Growing Pains (which is really unfair, as even Julie McCulloch‘s character was granted a degree of closure), and I’ve spent the subsequent years wondering what happened to Private Richard Stabone. Did he find what he was looking for in the Marines? Did he flame out and return to the suburbs? Did he complete his service, move to Seattle and start selling stereos again? Two Growing Pains reunion movies came and went and didn’t shed any light on his whereabouts. Like Keyser Soze, he was gone. A childhood friend never to be seen again (although, one would assume that Mike and Boner have reconnected over Facebook).
So what does that have to do Andrew Koenig, the actor who played Boner, who took his own life a few days ago? Nothing, really. I don’t know Koenig, and I don’t know if Koenig was anything like his character. He seemed well liked by the acting community, judging by the way that many actors and comedians tweeted their concern, their requests for help, and when his body was found, their sadness. Maybe Koenig embodied the best parts of Richard Stabone, the carefree attitude, the innocence, the sweet dorkiness, even the endearing naiveté. But, hopefully, in his real life, unlike Boner, Koenig was taken seriously and appreciated.
Unfortunately, the truth of the matter is that he was always known as Boner, and he always will be. Perhaps it was an ill-advised, myopic, nickname, one that had no choice but to stick permanently. Would he have been better off with less of a double entendre for an epithet? Does Mark Price, Family Ties‘ “Skippy,” go through his life unable to escape his character and his character’s name? I don’t know. This is just hypothesizing. But, either way, it’s always a shame that it takes a tragedy for us to start talking about someone whom we had long forgotten.
I recently began re-watching 21 Jump Street (which is a blog post, and hopefully an ongoing series, for another day) and came upon a season 2 episode entitled “Champagne High.” I was first struck by the presence of a young Peter Berg as a high school jock-bully. But I was soon even more surprised/intrigued by the subject of his bullying, a likewise young Andrew Koenig. I don’t think I had seen Koenig in anything other than Growing Pains, and it was interesting to see him get a chance to play a more serious role (and, on 21 Jump Street, there’s no shortage of meaty, if cripplingly melodramatic, parts). Like Boner, his character, Wally, was a pipsqueak. But Booner’s space case doofusness was replaced by resentment towards Berg and frustration over his constant abuse. In fact, Wally hires Johnny Depp and Peter DeLuise, undercover as the rough and tumble McQuaid Brothers, as his personal bodyguards. And the Jump Street officers then turn around and use Wally’s connections to set-up a sting operation, taking advantage of his father’s business as well as his vulnerability. It’s not fair to assert that this is what it was like for Koenig in real life – that he was bullied, used, mocked – but in light of his death, and the apparent circumstances that led to it, I don’t think it’s entirely unfair to wonder.
A little over a year ago a friend gave me what at the time was a wonderful, exceptionally thoughtful gift, a framed 8×10 screenshot of Boner with a faux-dedication and signature. I proudly displayed the photo on my Ikea bookshelf, and upon moving to LA I put it right back up, providing a measure of comfort. Now, of course, I feel bad that we might have had a good laugh at his expense, and I’m not sure what the etiquette is on displaying forged-autographed headshots of recently deceased semi-celebrities. When I get settled I’ll probably put it back up. But not so much as a joke anymore, but as a tribute. And to remember that while Andrew Koenig might not be with us anymore, there’s still hope that Richard Stabone is living a rich and rewarding life, the life that they both deserved.
Jumped The Snark 