Sunday, October 15, 2023

Newsday TV Book, October 16-22, 1977.

As I was slopping handfuls of damp leaves out of my gutters earlier today, it suddenly hit me:
Oh boy, here we go! The most wonderful time of the year! (Not the mucking gutters part--the Halloween/Thanksgiving/Winter/Christmas part!)

I'm not much into Halloween anymore (since, say, 1983 or so), but I am into starting my Christmas revelry earlier and earlier in my encroaching dotage. It all goes by too damn fast! As I've mentioned here before, several years after her death, I had a dream in which my mother told me that it was okay to begin the season by listening to ONE Christmas song on October 16th at 11:15pm. Of course, I know damn well that it was not some otherworldly visitation (after-life spoiler alert: it's not a thing) but just my own yule-addled psyche, me giving myself permission to be a nostalgic weirdo and pinning it on mom. I can't claim to have obeyed this edict every year since, but I've tried, ma, I swear!

In any case, let's put on a snuggly cardigan to ward off any drafts in the home (you really need to get that taken care of, btw), warm up a mug of Abuelita and enjoy some pre-pumpkin spice TV from an autumn long, long ago...

On this week's cover, Ed Asner strikes a pose as Lou Grant, fresh from The Mary Tyler Moore Show and now with his own hour-long drama (which he describes as containing 30% comedy). It's a pensive, vaguely troubled look that I find myself mimicking more and more often. Ed was just shy of 48 here, six years younger than I am now. Pondering this, I am striking that pose again.

In Carol Burton Terry's always-informative TV Line, we learn that Margaux Hemingway was perhaps doomed right from the moment her name was chosen, that Sly Stallone's plans for Rocky sequels may have been scuttled by the non-existence of whatever the hell Hell's Kitchen was, and that C.S. of Central Islip was mixed-up regarding the idea of different people having the same last name.
Here's the scoop on Lou making his way back to the newspaper city room, written by the late Bill Kaufman, long-time Newsday reporter and short-time correspondent with your Non-Parader. The man loved the news racket as much as he loved a pillowy yet crisp, fresh-from-the-oven knish.

The Cable TV Highlights section details programs featuring local election candidates and Soupy Sales. Like that's even a choice! Heeeey, do The Mouse, yeah!
I'm not exactly sure why I always enjoy including the schedule for Sunday morning. At that time I'd be reluctantly dragging my ass out of bed for church, after having just gone on Friday morning with my fellow St. Pius students. I would have learned just as much from zoning out for hours in front of channel 11's crap cartoon line-up--which is to say, precisely squat.
After last fall's experiment with broadcasting a week of British programming, WOR channel 9 brought back some viewer favorites (Benny Hill among them, naturally), and promoted them with a rare TV Book ad among the Sunday evening listings. Here are the late listings too.
Here's a nice big slab o' Monday, with one of Gary Viskupic's WWII illustrations and a funny John Cashman review of that day's WABC 4:30 Movie.
Tuesday morning's shows are accompanied by the once-ubiquitous Noseless Preggo of Dan Howard's Maternity Factory Outlet, who sported a new ensemble every week, appropriate for any fashionable, knocked-up kindergarten teacher.
Visk depicted The Grapes of Wrath for this Thursday airing-- I swear he had done another, slightly different drawing for it in another guide but I'll be damned if I can find it. Dumb old brain!
Here's late Friday night, mostly for childhood favorite Mr. Sardonicus (but lots of other neat stuff in there too, dig in).
And now, here's all day Saturday, a mere three pages but chock-full of cartoons, horror/sci-fi flicks, and terrific Cashman reviews, plus a picture of Faye Dunaway bathing Dustin Hoffman.


Here's a collection of small ads for those with impending nuptials, and another ad for the aspiring executive secretary with an eye for big tuition savings.
Last but absolutely not least, Hicks Nurseries in Westbury pulled Otto the Ghost out of his musty coffin (well, more likely a dusty cardboard box), re-animating him for his annual appearance along with his other unscary animatronic pals. Your little Non-Parader visited religiously--in a sense, more so than actual twice-weekly church. (I've cropped off the adjoining Crosswords puzzle, which some Long Island dum-dum made a woefully inadequate attempt at solving. "Donni" Osmond? Please.)
Alright, that'll do it... until next week! Like, the for-reals next consecutive week after this one, October 23-29, 1977! I know, the anticipation is killing me too!

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