Today, I’m not waxing philosophic. Instead, it’s all about TV, heaven and what happens next.
I know, pretty heady stuff. But never in my mind.
The inspiration for this morning’s tome is the unexpected death of John Dye at the age of 47. If you don’t remember the name, John as was the Angel of Death on Touched by an Angel, playing opposite that little slice of heaven right here on earth, Roma Downey.
Anyway, it seems that God had recast the role of the Angel of Death and the new guy visited John. Only this time it was for real, not on television.
And that got me to thinking about my own life. As a child of the Television Era, I am drawn to describing my life in TV terms.
I premiered on May 28, 1958. Unfortunately, being colored wasn’t a good thing in this country yet, so I was just came in one color — white.
God has now renewed the show “My Life” for 52 seasons. Renewal for season 53 comes up in May again. I hope I’m not placed on hiatus.
I’ve been on hiatus before. It’s those years when I think God didn’t know what to do with My Life. Whether to make it a comedy, a drama, a suspense, a mystery (ah, many years it’s been one of these) or a game show. So, I’ve just sat it out. I know when they occurred, mind you, I just don’t have any memories of them. As such, I can only assume that I was on hiatus.
For the most part, it’s been a comedy. I think God thinks that’s a good format for my show. Lord knows (wait, I guess He does), that it has been a string of follies, misunderstandings, foibles, errors and odd situations — so many that other shows just couldn’t compete. I’m sure the audience has appreciated each episode and season as much as they would appreciate a single show with the Marx Brothers, Laurel and Hardy and the Three Stooges in it. Hilarious, eh God?
The dramas? Not too fond of that format. The seasons where I co-starred with Connie in the role of the psycho girlfriend was not a lot of laughs. And the writer was such a hack — all those smarmy “Fixin’t to’s and “ya’ll’s”, like Connie was actually from Amarillo, Texas. She worked hard at nailing the accent, but I think the audience caught on pretty quickly that it was all just an act. Although I mus say, the episode where I had her almost arrested for assaulting me was a real ratings draw.
I did like the episode in the tropics where I snagged Faith’s nose with the anchor on my necklace. That blood was so realistic — kudos to the special effects department — I almost thought I had pierced her nose with it. And the bottle of Asti Spumante that didn’t break when it was thrown from the car? Brilliant! That scene alone should have netted me a Life Achievement Award.
Then there were the seasons where the format was a mystery. I was never good at solving these. I think God knew it, too. So he added layers of intrigue to the plot, letting other cast members step in to solve the questions for me. But they always seemed to have ulterior motives that only made matters worse. But it did make for good watching.
Occasionally, I don’t have much of a supporting cast. It’s rarely been a one-man show, however, only because I just don’t think people would like to see a character drift into the madness of his own mind. It just wouldn’t be entertaining. On second thought, maybe it would.
Instead, there has been almost non-stop changes in casting. Some of my co-stars have been renewed for countless seasons — Cassie, Cathy, Bobby and Animal. The same person has been playing my mother since the show began. My father’s run came to an end of 1981, shortly after the “Birth of Rebecca” episode.
Others have had only fleeting appearances and some have bad extended runs as guest stars – the soon to be ex-wife, the ex-wife, the backstabbing friend, the boss who belittles you all the time, the brothers who never talk to you again — the stereotypical antagonists and protagonists in any plot this thick. Some have even tried to steal the show – but I guess even God doesn’t like divas. They were taken off the show, often without notice. I would just show up, script in hand, and they had been written out. Go figure.
And so, I look towards the renewal of another season of “My Life”. I wonder what the format will be like now, or what my character will be like. Will he be the mild, loving, happy-go-lucky guy, or will he once again be called to play his evil twin, the obnoxious, cynical, biting guy dubbed “Hurricane.”
I don’t really care. I just play the role, no matter what it is. I don’t get my panties all up in a bunch every time the plot changes. After all these years I am the commensurate professional – stiff upper lip, never let the powers that be know that they got you in a tizzy, accept what’s given to you and develop the character as he is revealed to you.
I only have one fear. I know that God does this a lot, but I don’t want to have it happen to me anytime soon.
Yes, I don’t want to be cancelled.
Not yet anyway. Like Gunsmoke, I’d like a longer run. I know that no show can go on forever, but I think the overarching plot is strong, some new characters have been brought in that are extremely interesting, the writers are better than ever and even if those weren’t working for you, the story has a great location — so even if the plot lines a little thin, people can still enjoy the stunning vistas of life on an island.
Hey, come to think of it God, it’s a pretty good show right now. So I wouldn’t toy with it too much right now. And please don’t move the location to Alaska. If that’s your plan anytime down the road, cancel me right now. Even eternity in Hell would be better than a day in Alaska (or Tukwila, Washington for that matter).
Somewhere in Florida still trying to learn my lines,
– Robb