SYNDICATED COLUMNIST
One of the great benefits of streaming TV is that I’m able to watch old network shows that I enjoyed while growing up in the 1970s.
One of my favorite shows was “The Waltons.”
When I was 11 years old, that prime-time show was a central part of my weekly ritual.
Every Thursday, after dinner, my father and I boarded our Plymouth Fury station wagon and headed to the Del Farm grocery store located in a small suburban plaza one mile from our home.
I pushed the cart as I helped my father work through the long shopping list my mother provided. Though cookies and potato chips were never on my mother’s list, on a good night my father would be feeling generous.
He’d buy a box of Del Farm’s freshly baked oatmeal and chocolate chip cookies and a bag of Snyder of Berlin potato chips, onion dip (my mother’s favorite) and a wooden case of Regent soda pop.
When we finally pulled the loaded-down station wagon into the garage, everyone in the house was alerted and the massive unloading process began. We usually got everything packed away by 8 p.m., just in time to turn on “The Waltons.”
I’d bring a bowl of ice to the family room, open some bottles of Regent soda pop, pour the Snyder of Berlin chips into a couple of bowls and soon my sisters, parents and I would be enjoying the newest episode of one of our family’s must-see shows.
I think I loved “The Waltons” so much because it mirrored the stable family experience my sisters and I were living.
There were lots of imperfections in my family, to be sure — there will always be conflict and drama when six children and their mother and father are living together in a modest- sized home.
But, like the parents on “The Waltons,” our mom and dad were committed to each other and to us.
They put our needs ahead of their own. They gave us an incredible sense of security and wellbeing. They taught us right and wrong — we all went to Catholic school and attended Mass every Sunday — and they drove us to become good, productive citizens.
Thanks to them, all of my sisters and I are flourishing as adults.
Interestingly, nobody expected “The Waltons” to succeed when it first aired in 1972.
The ‘70s was a turbulent and cynical era, after all. The Vietnam war was still raging, Watergate dominated the news.
According to Patheos, a non-partisan online media company that provides religious and political information and commentary, the social changes of the ‘60s had paved the way to the disco hedonism of the ‘70s.
So why was a wholesome drama about a rural American family from Virginia such a hit?
In 2012, Earl Hamner, who created the show based on his book, “Spencer Mountain,” explained why.
He said in the 1970s there was a yearning to see “people trying to make decent lives for themselves and their children.”
When you get down to it, that’s really all anybody wants.
All I know is, I’m greatly enjoying “The Waltons” half a century after it originally aired.
That’s because it fills me again with the incredible sense of security and love I knew as a boy, when my mother and father put us first.
