Na na na na, hey hey hey...

Just yesterday I heard that Ken Ober passed away. I immediately texted my brother. He shared in my shock, and his memory of Ken is the same as mine. After school, before our parents came home to turn on the 24-hour news channel, we watched our version of the news: MTV. Chris was wrapping newspapers for his route, and I was puffy painting my canvas shoes/jean jacket. There were nonstop music videos all day, all night, but in 1987 MTV tried something new. An original game show called Remote Control. We wanted to be on that show. Either that or Double Dare. The quiz show was set in the basement of host Ken Ober, a pop culture know-it-all. Along with La-Z-Boy recliners, TV trays, a washer machine and a huge television set, we saw for the first time, Colin Quinn, Adam Sandler, Denis Leary, and Kari Wuhrer (if you didn't want to date her, you probably wanted to be her). My intense desire to be a contestant on Remote Control is probably the reason I have such a huge database of rock trivia stashed away in my cranium. I'm still gearing up for my turn in at naming the artist and song in the 9 screens in 30 seconds, or to Sing Along With Colin.

More than just a game, RC also had a ton of zany comedy bits, a keyboardist who musically accentuated every moment with his Casio, audience participation, and a snack break. Gosh, the 80's were just such a colorful, weird time. You might look at his high-waisted Z Cavaricci jeans and L.A. Gear tennies and think Ken Ober an 80's fashion plate. But he was just the everyman, spitting out lightning round questions, restraining Colin, and respectfully dismissing contestants who couldn't keep up.

I have two favorite memories of the show. Once, Ken asked the contestants to finish the line "Way-oh, way-oh, ay-oh, way-oh," à la Bangles singer Susannah Hoffs.

When a contestant answered in a beautiful singing voice, "Walk like an Egyptian," Ken paused, considered the response, and then didn't award her the points because she didn't blink and look around with googly eyes while singing.

My other favorite moment was when Ken broke up a rolling-on-the-ground fistfight between Colin and his little brother (Denis Leary) by saying, "Guys! Guys! Guys! Uh... I got a potato." It was funny then, but I didn't really understand how funny until I married an Irish guy.

Remote Control is certainly one of the reasons MTV started to suck so much in the 90's. But it was such a fun way to spend a half hour as a tween. It's hard to believe that was 22 years ago. I can't say I really kept up on Ken Ober's projects after Remote Control, but he was definitely too young to die. I feel more than a little sad and nostalgic for the hours I spent watching him on MTV.

557 Channels And Nothin' On

We used to have cable. There were 3-4 roommates at the time, and we split the bill. We had a ton of channels and each paid about $10 monthly. When I moved to Chicago, I had a TV, but didn't want to commit to cable, so I got a great antenna and a DVD player. Although I was tragically out of touch with The Sopranos and Six Feet Under, I caught up on some great movies. I forced myself to walk to the movie store (this was before Netflix, obviously), and sometimes Marky and I would get on our cell phones and watch the same movie simultaneously. If Scrubs' reception was bad on a rainy night, it wasn't meant to be. I found something better to do than watch TV. For a person who is this out-of-love with the idea of TV, I suppose I have a very romantic view of the boob tube.

Yes, I believe too many people are too addicted to their shows, and that might make my next statement seem hypocritical. Network television is a right. Even snowy, blurry, network television devoid of vertical hold. True, I get to enjoy the special channels on the treadmill at the gym, but that's only a few hours a week. When we recently made the switch to digital, thankfully Marky and I had the right kind of set. Sadly, what used to be a fuzzy image is now crystal clear about half the time, complete darkness the other. Call me a conspiracy theorist, but I know this "upgrade" is the cable companies slowly making TV-viewing impossible without paying the piper.

Today I read an article about NBC being bought by Comcast. Between gaps of black silence, I heard fragments of this story the other night on Conan O'Brien, my favorite host on my favorite network. Surely NBC won't immediately disappear into Cableland. But the insidious crossover is imminent. When I think of the free shows that made a huge impact on my childhood (The Cosby Show, Saturday Night Live, Family Ties), I have to put myself in my parents' and grandparents' shoes. They remember radio shows and first television sets. And that's really where NBC started. Like them, I have no choice except to let broadcasting evolve to meet the needs of its staff and audiences. However, this might just push me further to the left as far as being that audience. Perhaps I will finally have an answer to the oft-queried: "Gosh Bree, where do you find the time to do that?"