TV Guide's 1978 fall-preview is out, and I'm thankful to have the distraction from both the 1978 and 2025 Dolphins.
I'm also thankful that VCRs are out so that I can record one of those 7/7:30 p.m. Central Saturday blocks of sitcoms. In fact, maybe I'll get a RCA SelectaVision and a Magnavox so that I can tape both the ABC and CBS shows while watching CHiPs. I like everything at 7 and 7:30, and, other than the occasional Love Boat, nothing much excites me from 8 on ...
CHiPs is one of the very, very few cultural artifacts of the day on which my father and I agreed and actually shared in proximity to one another.
Unlike so many homes of the day, my family did not gather around a single TV set. We had a big console color television in the living room, but it was out of commission (but still present) almost all of my childhood. Instead, we typically spread out among three black-and-white portable jobs. There was one in Mom and Dad's bedroom, one in the kitchen and--after my last older sibling moved out--one in my bedroom. Even if we were all watching the same game, news event or (very rarely) weekly program, Dad, Mom and I would often fan out among the three sets and just yell back and forth to each other across the house at commercial breaks or whatever.
But CHiPs was different. For some reason, Dad and I got into watching CHiPs together. It wasn't the favorite show for either of us. But we both liked it enough to watch it together, and we both found it non-engrossing enough to play Othello together as we watched. After supper, Dad and I would set up the Othello game on his and Mom's bed and play to the show on Channel 6, while Mom did whatever Mom did out in the kitchen and watched whatever she watched on some other channel.
I loved Carter Country and Rhoda, and I liked Good Times. And I also actually remember giving Apple Pie a chance (it didn't take) because of Jack Gilford, with whom Mom and I once rode an elevator at a Hilton in Arlington Heights, Illinois!
