Comfort TV

The end of Thanksgiving heralds the beginning of my Christmas television season.

The lineup and viewing order vary from year to year. Between my DVD library and programs accessed by other means, I probably have anywhere from 60 to 75 holiday episodes to choose from. Some are annual viewing; others are pulled out occasionally, and many are skipped altogether. The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis is a wonderful series I’m glad to own, but in four seasons they didn’t manage one memorable Christmas show.

This list contains the episodes that are essential to my Christmas celebration. Please share your favorites in the comments if you’re so inclined.

And if you’d like to know more about Christmas TV the universally-recognized authority is Joanna Wilson, who has a blog devoted to this particular topic, and whose books on Christmas television I cannot recommend highly enough.

The Avengers (“Too Many Christmas Trees”)

Steed has Santa-themed nightmares, which come to life at a Charles Dickens-inspired Christmas party. The dialogue sparkles as it usually does with this show (Steed on Emma’s friendship with a rare book dealer – “Is he still after your first edition?”), and there’s a clever reference to Steed’s previous partner, Cathy Gale.

The Lucy Show (“Together for Christmas”)

Lucy and Viv look forward to their first Christmas together, until they discover that their respective holiday traditions couldn’t be further apart. Anyone with in-laws can relate.

Dragnet (“The Christmas Story”)

Friday and Gannon try to track down a missing statue of the baby Jesus, stolen from a church’s Nativity scene. Turns out the culprit is a little boy who prayed for a red wagon for Christmas, and promised Jesus the first ride. “Paquita’s family, they’re poor,” explains the priest in the last scene. Friday looks around the church and responds, “Are they, Father?” Good luck finding that kind of message on TV anymore.

The Monkees (“The Christmas Show”)

The Monkees baby-sit a spoiled rich kid (played by The Munsters’ Butch Patrick) over the holidays. The episode is just fair, but it closes with the band performing a superb a cappella version of “Riu Chiu,” a Spanish carol that dates back to the 1500s.

The Donna Reed Show (“A Very Merry Christmas”)

Donna worries that Christmas is not what it used to be (in 1958!) but finds the true spirit of the season in a hospital janitor who arranges a Christmas party in the children’s ward. Silent screen legend Buster Keaton plays the janitor. A beautiful and heartwarming episode typical of both the series and its era.

The Dick Van Dyke Show (“The Alan Brady Show Presents”)

All singing, all dancing, all wonderful – except for Richie’s off-key warbling of “The Little Drummer Boy.” What did we do before fast-forward buttons on remotes?

Petticoat Junction (“Cannonball Christmas”)

Railroad executive Homer Bedloe (Charles Lane, TV’s go-to curmudgeon) tries to shut down the Cannonball but is outsmarted by Kate Bradley and her daughters. The show ends with the train, decorated for the holidays, riding through Hooterville to the strains of holiday music.

The Patty Duke Show (“The Christmas Present”)
Cathy is convinced that her father, a foreign correspondent, will be home to spend Christmas with her, even though newspapers report he’s been jailed after a revolution on the other side of the world. Will he make it in time? Of course he will – what classic TV show would dare to run a depressing Christmas episode? Yeah, I’m looking at you, Family Affair.

The Brady Bunch (“The Voice of Christmas”)

No surprise to see this one on the essential list: Cindy asks Santa to restore her mother’s laryngitis-stricken voice in time for her church solo. Remember when TV characters actually went to church?

That Girl (“’Twas the Night Before Christmas, You’re Under Arrest”)

After one of those misunderstandings that only happen on sitcoms, Ann and Donald spend Christmas Eve in jail.

Wings (‘The Customer’s Usually Right”)

There were six Wings holiday episodes and I usually watch all of them.

My favorite is this one from season four, in which Joe’s refusal to pay a 50-cent rewind fee on a rented videocassette gets a sweet little old lady fired on Christmas Eve. His attempts to make amends lead to unexpectedly hilarious complications.

Father Knows Best (“The Christmas Story”)

Determined to celebrate the holiday right, Jim drags his family up to the mountains so they can cut down their own Christmas tree. His plan goes awry when the car gets stuck in a snowdrift, and they are forced to seek shelter in an abandoned fishing lodge. The ending, when Kathy thinks she sees Santa Claus out her window, is magical.

The Bob Newhart Show (“Bob Has to Have His Tonsils Out, So He Spends Christmas Eve in the Hospital”)

The title says it all. Bob is subjected to the indignities of peekaboo hospital gowns, Howard’s hospital horror stories, and an ancient nurse played by the veteran character actress Merie Earle, who gets a laugh with every line she utters. But then you can’t go wrong with any of the Newhartholiday shows.

The Partridge Family (“Don’t Bring Your Guns to Town, Santa”)

This was a favorite episode among most of the cast, and while I like it I don’t love it. I wish there would have been a full performance of “Winter Wonderland,” or better yet “A Christmas Card to You.” But the costumes are beautiful, and with every passing year I am moved more by the poignancy of Dean Jagger’s lonely prospector.

The Adventures of Ozzie & Harriet (“The Girl in the Emporium”)

Ricky and his friend Wally get jobs at a department store to make some extra holiday money – and to hit on a cute sales clerk. I think I watch this one every year just for Ricky Nelson’s Kingfish (from Amos & Andy) imitation near the end. It never fails to make me laugh.

The Mary Tyler Moore Show (“Christmas and the Hard Luck Kid”)

If you’re a classic TV fan you are already picturing Mary’s desk, decorated for the holidays (with Nativity scene in the desk drawer). This is another personal favorite – one year I am definitely going to gift-wrap my front door like she does in this episode.

Eight is Enough (“Yes, Nicholas, There is a Santa Claus”)

Will Geer plays a down and out man who convinces Nicholas he is Santa Claus, and then steals all the Bradford Christmas presents. Really, Nicholas? Even Nancy wouldn't have fallen for that. Still, it’s a fun two-part show with an unexpectedly powerful ending.

The Flintstones (“Christmas Flintstone”)

I love the look of this episode. The deep blues, reds and whites in the color palette are a striking change from the earth tones that permeate most Flintstones shows. The songs are silly but still memorable, and the Pebbles dolls are an amusing example of not-too-subtle product placement.

Bewitched (“A Vision of Sugar Plums”)

This is my favorite Christmas episode of any series. Every moment of it is perfect.

Glee (“A Very Glee Christmas”)

This is the only contemporary show on my list, but it feels retro because of the wonderful covers of “The Most Wonderful Day of the Year” from Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and two songs from The Grinch that Stole Christmas.

Discuss favorite Lost episodes with fans and it won’t be long until someone mentions “The Constant.”

For those who didn’t follow this fascinating and sometimes frustrating series, the episode was about a man whose reality had become fractured in divergent timelines, and who was able to survive the ordeal by focusing on a “constant,” defined here as something or someone of value that is always present in his life.

It’s a concept I hadn’t pondered before watching Lost, but one that I’ve often thought about since. Who wouldn’t want a constant to anchor us amidst turmoil, something we know with certainty will be in our lives for as long as we desire it?

It’s the type of security some of us get from faith, which may adapt with the times but still adheres to bedrock principles and eternal promises.

But on a much less profound level, I believe it’s one of the reasons why what I call Comfort TV is something so many of us treasure.

Life is inevitably about change.

We live with our parents when we’re young, and then we’re out on our own, before creating new families, which stay together until another generation leaves the nest. We move from one home to another, and change jobs and companies throughout our careers. Pets come into our lives for a time, but unless you are partial to parrots or tortoises they will leave long before you do.

If you’re lucky you’ll hold on to a few childhood friends into your adult years. The rest you’ll see at school reunions, and acknowledge their birthdays on Facebook.

The neighborhood restaurant you grew up with is replaced by an Outback Steakhouse. The park where you played baseball is now condos. The daily newspaper is on your computer instead of your doorstep.

When you really stop to think about it, how many things come into your life and are always there – or are at least always accessible when you wish to see them again? Favorite books, favorite songs, movies and TV shows are indeed a constant for so many of us, and that’s why they bring us such joy.

I was five years old the first time I saw The Dick Van Dyke Show. I was in the living room of a duplex in Skokie, Illinois, eating dinner on a TV tray and watching the series in syndication on Chicago’s WGN-TV, channel 9. It made me laugh, and it made my mom laugh. We watched every weeknight, until my father came home from work.

At the time I had no idea the episodes I was enjoying so much had originally aired several years earlier. But gradually as the five seasons continued to play in succession, I became aware of the concept of the rerun, and began to look forward to watching my favorite shows again.

After a few years of constant exposure I lost touch with the Petries for a while, only to rediscover them in the 1980s when my home was wired for cable and I discovered the delights of Nick at Nite. Once again, The Dick Van Dyke Show was a nightly tradition, and it had lost none of its appeal.

When the DVDs came out I bought them all. Now I could watch the series on my schedule, skip over the (very) few sub-par episodes and enjoy classics like “The Curious Thing About Women” and “October Eve” as often as I wished.

When the series was released on Blu-Ray, I had a welcome pretext to watch every show again in order, now with a stunning clarity that I could never have imagined more than 40 years earlier. For the first time I could clearly distinguish the pile of the carpet in the Petrie living room, beads of sweat forming on Dick Van Dyke’s forehead in several of the office scenes, and the fine detail in the threading on Mary Tyler Moore’s costumes.

There are other shows that have been with me nearly as long as The Dick Van Dyke Show– I retain a very hazy memory of watching a first-run Brady Bunch episode at the age of four – but if I had to name an origin point for my classic television passion, it would have to be 148 Bonnie Meadow Road in New Rochelle, New York. And it feels good to know that 10, 20, 30 years from now it will be there. And Buddy’s putdowns of Mel Cooley will still make me laugh, even though I’ve heard them a thousand times before.

Do you have a classic TV constant?

Christmas suggests myriad topics for a classic TV post: New Year’s Eve, not so much.

I could offer a tribute to Guy Lombardo and his orchestra, as their New Year’s Eve concerts were an American tradition from the 1920s on radio through the 1970s on television – and the cultural shift that occurred when Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve supplanted them during that decade.

But I wasn’t a fan of either show. In fact, I am one of those that never found much to celebrate in the flipping of a calendar. Barry Manilow is too, apparently; the title of this piece is taken from a song of his that sums up my sentiments.

There are New Year’s-themed shows in the Comfort TV canon, but not that many. It’s not surprising – with Christmas episodes a staple of that era, a second consecutive holiday show probably seemed like too much of a good thing, as well as another show that wouldn’t play as well in syndication.

I also don’t find any nostalgic appeal in watching old New Year’s themed shows, as one celebration was much like any other in the 20^th century – champagne, funny hats, “Auld Lang Syne” and a kiss at midnight. All that changes is the year on the “Happy New Year” banner. Seeing “Happy 1960" or "Happy 1972” on screen is a reminder only of how much time has passed, and how old you’re starting to get – especially if you watched that episode when it first aired.

So I’ve started my own tradition. On January 1, as I begin my journey through 2015, I will watch the first episodes of some favorite series, especially those in which the characters also begin a new chapter in their lives.

While the first show is always where viewers are introduced to new TV friends, many shows launch with everyone already living lives that will remain consistent for the duration of the show: I Love Lucy, The Donna Reed Show, The Wild, Wild West, Charlie’s Angels. In fact, more series follow this template than any other – this is who we are, this is what we do, come back and see us again if you like.

But I think it’s more interesting when the characters are setting out on a different path at the same time viewers first meet them – that way we all set sail on a new voyage of discovery together.

For instance, by getting a glimpse of Jed Clampett’s life before that fateful day he struck oil, viewers could better appreciate the culture shock that accompanied his move to Beverly Hills. By learning of the circumstances that led to Bill Davis taking in Buffy and Jody and Cissy, we understand the challenges and separation anxieties evoked throughout their first days as a new family.

There are plenty more to choose from – and I am already looking forward to choosing episodes for my mini-marathon on New Year’s Eve, while those in a more celebratory mood stand outside in freezing temperatures waiting for balls to drop or fireworks to start.

Perhaps I will begin 2015 with Victoria Winters as she takes the train into Collinsport, or by watching Mike and Carol Brady get married. I could spend part of the day with Mary Richards as she starts a new job and moves into a new apartment, wondering if she can make it on her own, or watch as tennis pro Jaime Summers is rebuilt with bionic technology.

Maybe I’ll go back to school, and watch Coach Reeves meet his Carver High basketball team, or Gabe Kotter meet the Sweathogs. If it’s cold outside I can head for the tropical beach where Major Anthony Nelson finds a strange bottle in the sand. I can watch Jimmy wash ashore on Living Island – or Laura Palmer wash ashore on the coast of Twin Peaks (though that one may not be as festive).

New beginnings. They almost make the endings worthwhile.

Was anyone else surprised by the multiple mentions of Bosom Buddies at the recent Kennedy Center Honors tribute to Tom Hanks?

I expected a clip of the series to be played during the video retrospective of his life and career, but the situation comedy practically became a running joke throughout the segment, inspiring cross-dressing quips from Martin Short and host Stephen Colbert.

The references were plainly intended as affectionate mocking, and a way to illustrate how far Tom Hanks has come from such humble and questionable beginnings.

There’s only one problem with that assessment – Bosom Buddies was nothing to be ashamed of. Hanks doesn’t think so either – when a cast reunion was arranged at the TV Land Awards in 2010, the A-list movie star was there alongside Peter Scolari, Donna Dixon, Holland Taylor and Telma Hopkins. I’m sure his TV Land Award is now proudly displayed between his two Oscars.

The series is remembered as a failure because it was – just 37 episodes over two low-rated seasons, and a men-in-drag gimmick that was dated and desperate even in 1981. But as the old jazz standard reminds us, it ain’t what you do, it’s the way that you do it.

Actually, jazz is an apt allusion of why Bosom Buddiesmade its high-concept-to the-hilt premise work. With jazz it’s not the music on the page that creates the magic, but the inspired improvisations that take place within its framework. With Bosom Buddies it wasn’t the scripts or the ensemble that excelled as much as the lively riffing of Hanks and Scolari.

I still remember how fresh and surprising those moments seemed when the series first aired, as such instances of spontaneity were not typical of Miller-Milkis-Boyett shows.

Thomas Miller, Edward Milkis and Robert Boyett, working together and in various combinations from the 1970s through the 1990s, were responsible for the creation and/or production of several successful series (Happy Days, Laverne & Shirley, Full House, Perfect Strangers) and a few famous misses (Blansky’s Beauties, Joanie Loves Chachi, Goodtime Girls).

Television fans of that era came to recognize a house style for the team’s various shows – working class heroes, lovable eccentrics, and material that was rarely played with subtlety under a too-exuberant laugh track. So when a more obscure pop culture reference slipped into one of the conversations between Kip (Hanks) and Henry (Scolari), or their female counterparts Buffy and Hildy, Bosom Buddies became a different type of show – more clever and mischievous, and definitely funnier. Most of these highlights happened when the duo were not in drag – maybe it’s harder to ad-lib in heels.

Such inspired moments seemed improvised, though that was unlikely in an assembly line product. But during interviews conducted around the aforementioned TV Land Awards, the cast confirmed what I had long suspected – during the tedious hours of camera blocking, the actors would indeed improvise material which often found its place into the finished episodes.

Perhaps, after letting Robin Williams run wild on Mork & Mindy, the network and the producers had become more open to letting stars tweak their scripts. Or maybe the ratings on Bosom Buddies were so bleak they didn’t bother paying attention. Either way, there was something a little subversive going on there, and I imagine it’s one of the reasons why the series still has its supporters.

Of course, it still doesn’t get any respect – a "Complete Series" DVD is available, but CBS-Paramount didn’t think it was worth writing a big check to retain the original Billy Joel theme song (“My Life”). Perhaps being referenced 20 years later at the Kennedy Center with the president and first lady in attendance is recognition enough. Nobody is still making Blansky’s Beauties jokes.

Ok, let’s just have some fun this week.

Among the many calamities for which the Internet is responsible (identity theft,Justin Bieber’s career, the death of responsible journalism), it has also pretty much killed the trivia contest.

And yes, I do recognize the irony of trashing the Internet on my blog.

Trivia contests used to be fun. There was a genuine sense of accomplishment if you knew the answers, and if you didn’t know a question it would bother you for the rest of the day. Now, of course, you can type the question into any search engine and 130,000 websites will pop up to provide the correct answer.

But let’s try it anyway, and I’m trusting all of you to stay on the honor system. Below are 50 names. Your challenge is simply to figure out, as Jerry Seinfeld would say, “Who arrrrrre these people?” They could be actors, they might be characters, or they may have some other Comfort TV connection.

For those who resist the temptation to Google, the answers will be posted next week.

If you’d like, leave your score in the comments – let’s see if anyone gets them all.

1. Henry Bemis

2. Frances Lawrence

3. Grady Byrd

4. Cyndi Grecco

5. Willie Armitage

6. Sonia Manzano

7. Wilbur Post

8. Victoria Winters

9. Lance White

10. Jerrica Benton

11. Roswell Rogers

12. Dorothy Ramsey

13. Miguelito Loveless

14. Gertrude Berg

15. Roy Hinkley

16. Lonnie Burr

17. Gloria Brancusi

18. Frank Nelson

19. Carol Merrill

20. Noodles Romanoff

21. Janet Louise Johnson

22. Charles Lane

23. Vicki Lawson

24. Don Fedderson

25. Arnold Ziffel

26. Tara King

27. Earl J. Waggedorn

28. Fran Allison

29. Cliff Murdock

30. Vic Mizzy

31. Whitney Blake

32. Harvey Klinger

33. Edith Keeler

34. Norville Rogers

35. Noel Neill

36. Byron Glick

37. Pandora Spocks

38. Mike Fink

39. Sarah Purcell

40. Sol Saks

41. Andrea Thomas

42. Dick Tufeld

43. Agnes Nixon

44. Roosevelt Franklin

45. Alexandra Cabot

46. Bruno Martelli

47. Bess Myerson

48. John Drake

49. April Dancer

50. Lucas McCain

Winter before Christmas is delightful. Picturesque snowfalls and brisk temperatures enhance the holidays and traditions of the season. But come January most of us have had enough. Unfortunately, winter never gets that memo, and lingers like an unwanted houseguest for months.

Television becomes a more desirable (or at least, more attainable) entertainment option on cold winter nights. Maybe that’s why I’ve always felt that classic TV viewing, which is hardly a seasonal pastime, somehow feels more satisfying when it’s cold outside.

Of course, no advance preparation is necessary for spending a few hours with the great programs of the past – just pop in a DVD or find a few vintage shows on your streaming service of choice, or on nostalgia networks like MeTV and Cozi, and you’re good to go. But with a little extra effort you can turn this activity into a memorable evening perfect for sharing with family and friends, or even when you’re by yourself.

As someone who spends more time in TV land than the average citizen, I’ve developed a few viewing habits that always accentuate the occasion, which I now humbly share for your consideration.

Let’s start with room preparation. Some prefer to watch TV in the dark, as a way to create a more theatrical experience and to help center everyone’s focus on the program. There is something to be said for this, but watching television is not the same as watching movies, and most of us are more accustomed to normal room lighting. My preference is to split the difference – low light, perhaps from one lamp not too close to the screen, so the room is somewhat darkened but still bright enough that you won’t bang your shin on a coffee table en route to the bathroom.

I like to keep the temperature on the cool side, as this creates an appropriate environment for the incorporation of pillows, quilts and blankets, the ultimate comfort providers for comfort TV viewing. Two options here: drape them over the couch, or toss them into a haphazard pile on the floor in front of the screen. If you grew up with the shows you are watching, that’s the vantage point from where you probably saw them for the first time.

Pajamas are the obvious choice of attire, even if your evening is a communal occasion. Tell those you invite to come prepared. There’s nothing wrong with a slumber party even at your age.

Food and drink are also necessary, and there are no restrictions on your menu options save one – nothing that is served should in any way be considered healthy. Pizza delivery is never a bad idea, served with anything from wine to soft drinks. If snacks are more appropriate there’s chips, popcorn (try a caramel/cheddar mix) or sugar-coated cereal served in bowls on (what else?) TV trays. If you dwell in one of those regions where January isn’t fooling around when it comes to frozen conditions, another option is hot cocoa paired with a bakery item like spice cake.

And now, with everything else in place, all that is left to determine is what to watch.

Even when a small gathering of classic TV fans get together, it may not be easy to reach a consensus. One solution would be to have everyone bring a DVD with a favorite episode of a favorite show. Or choose a theme –perhaps detective shows or family sitcoms, or television from the 1950s (or 60s, 70s. etc.).

Another suggestion is to recreate a network program lineup from decades past, something I’ve often enjoyed doing (as covered in a previous blog). Or build an evening around guest-starring roles from one actor – for instance, check out John Wayne’s appearances on I Love Lucy, The Beverly Hillbillies, The Dean Martin Show and Maude.

Do you have any rituals or comfort TV viewing preferences? Please share them – we could all use some fresh ideas for getting through what’s left of these long, dark winter nights.

Last year Bob Barker celebrated his 90^th birthday by returning to The Price is Right, the series he hosted for 35 years.

I didn’t watch.

I feel like I should have – as a kid I spent countless sick days and snow days and summer mornings with Bob and The Price is Right, back when it was one among dozens of game shows that came and went over three decades. Who remembers Concentration and High Rollers? Or Gambit and Sale of the Century? How about Double Dare, Card Sharks, Blockbusters and Treasure Hunt?

Gradually they all ended their morning runs but The Price is Right soldiers on. It remains a true TV anachronism, and one of the very few series that have been on television longer than I have been alive.

Viewers today will find much of the format unchanged under current host Drew Carey. There are male models now and some high tech bells and whistles, but many of the same pricing games from Barker’s first episode are still being played.

And yet – it just doesn’t feel the same. The current incarnation seems too forced in its enthusiasm, too marketing driven, too assembly line in its progression from calling down the first four contestants to the fadeout after the showcases.

Shows like this used to thrive on the intimacy of their relationship with the viewers at home. They presented the façade of a happy family of coworkers who seemed sincere when they would thank you for inviting them into your home. They felt like friends.

Maybe it wasn’t authentic, and we’ll get to that in a moment, but the incarnation of ThePrice is Right that I still treasure featured the steady, reliable presence of Barker as host, Johnny Olson as announcer, and a trio of models – Janice Pennington, Dian Parkinson and Holly Hallstrom – that viewers came to know over the years as more than just eye candy.

It was the longevity of the show and this cast that, as it did with soap operas, made The Price is Right so special. Janice was pointing at “brand new cars!” when I was 8 years old. She was still doing it when I graduated high school. And she was still doing it when I graduated college, and for more than 10 years after that.

She always seemed like the oldest of “Barker’s Beauties,” as they were once called, at a time when that kind of label didn’t trigger outrage. Actually, Janice is just two years older than Dian, but she had a classiness in how she carried herself as she fondled an Amana Radarange that always distinguished her from her fellow prize pointers.

Dian was Cinemax before that was even a word. No one ever wore a bikini better, and when she was showing off a sailboat or a hot tub it was like Christmas coming early.

Holly was kid sister cute and more approachable. She screwed up a lot, too, which only made her more endearing.

Johnny Olson’s voice is part of so many collective childhoods. The Price is Right was the only show where he also regularly appeared on camera, for the contestant introductions and the silly showcase skits at the end of each episode. He played priests and doctors and big game hunters and Roman emperors, but no matter how they dressed him up he always looked like your tax attorney.

And Bob? He was always genial, always patient with the more addled contestants, always sincere in his requests to have your pets spayed or neutered. While you could occasionally detect glimpses of a control freak beneath the ever-present smile, Barker remained the consummate host.

We have all realized by now that a celebrity’s public persona may not be the truest representation of their character. The Bob Barker who returned to CBS last year is one whose name is now inextricably linked to rampant egotism, wrongful termination lawsuits and sexual harassment.

Some of it may be true. Some of it may just be piling on for a quick buck once the network opted for confidential settlements instead of trials. I don’t know. I wasn’t there.

Should I not like Barker anymore because he was probably a jerk sometimes? When you start down that road, it’s going to cut deeply into any classic TV library. Pretty soon you end up only watching shows with Art Linkletter, Annette Funicello and Mr. Rogers. June Lockhart too. Maybe Lucie Arnaz.

I may not watch The Price is Right anymore, and the version I fondly recall may be somewhat tainted, but I’m glad the show is still around. Even if I’m no longer downing Captain Crunch in front of the TV and trying to guess the manufacturer’s retail price of Turtle Wax without going over, I know it’s still preferable to Maury Povich announcing, “You are NOT the father” to yet another irresponsible moron. Thankfully, at least Barker has yet to appear on that show.

Over the past three decades I’ve had 14 books published. I’ve also had several ideas for books rejected by every publisher that reviewed them. It’s an occupational hazard to which writers adjust, even if we never stop thinking we know better.

Of all the ones that got away, the project I had been most excited to tackle was pitched as “TV: The Top Three.” The concept was simple: a ranking of the top three episodes from more than 300 television series – sitcoms, dramas, westerns, cartoons, sci-fi, Saturday morning, cult favorites – all selected by me.

I still think it’s a good idea. Top 5 and top 10 lists are click-bait for thousands of websites, and similarly themed articles are a staple in entertainment publications. The appeal of the book, I argued unsuccessfully, was not another man’s opinion of the best 3 episodes of Star Trekor I Love Lucy, both fairly well-trod territory by now, but the selection of outstanding episodes from shows that rarely get books or magazine articles or blogs devoted to them.

Here are two examples of what typical entries would have looked like, for the classic shows Maverick and The Adventures of Superman.

Maverick

1.Shady Deal at Sunny Acres (November 23, 1958)

“If you can’t trust your banker, who can you trust?” says Mr. Bates the banker (John Dehner), who’s as crooked as they come, as Bret Maverick (James Garner) discovers after his $15,000 deposit disappears. To retaliate, the ultimate man of inaction pulls up a rocking chair across from the bank and spends the next several days whittling. When the sheriff and various passersby ask if he’s recovered his money yet, Maverick smiles and says, “I’m workin’ on it.” By episode’s end the money is back in his wallet, and Bates is in jail for embezzlement. "You can fool all of the people some of the time, and some of the people all of the time," concludes Bret, "and those are very good odds."

2.Three Queens Full (November 12, 1961)

Throughout its five-season run, Maverick would occasionally take a break from making fun of its own characters and have a laugh at somebody else’s. “Gun-Shy” was a parody of Gunsmoke, and “A Cure for Johnny Rain” opened with a monotone narration meant to suggest Jack Webb on Dragnet. But the best of the Maverick send-ups was the Bonanza-inspired “Three Queens Full,”guest-starring Jim Backus as Joe Wheelwright of the Subrosa Ranch. The story has Bart Maverick facing a jail sentence unless he chaperones the three brides of Joe’s sons, Moose, Henry and Small Paul.

3. Hadley’s Hunters (September 25, 1960)

Imagine the reaction today if characters from Friends, Seinfeld and Will & Grace all got together to swap stories at New York’s Central Perk. The 1960s equivalent of this crossover extravaganza happened on Maverick, in which Bart summons help to escape the wrath of a trigger-happy sheriff, played by Edgar Buchanan. Answering the call: Will Hutchins (Sugarfoot), Clint Walker (Cheyenne) and John Russell and Peter Brown (Lawman).

The Adventures of Superman

1. Panic in the Sky (December 5, 1953)

A meteor hovers perilously close to earth, threatening to crash into Metropolis and cause untold devastation. Superman (George Reeves) tries to fly to the rescue, but there’s Kryptonite in the meteor, and he falls back to earth, suffering from amnesia. In one of the series’ best scenes, the confused Clark Kent starts to undress in front of Jimmy Olsen, and opens his shirt to reveal the Superman costume underneath. Meanwhile, the meteor remains, ominously close to earth, playing havoc with weather patterns around the world. Where, the citizens of earth wonder, is Superman? Those who wonder why the most knowledgeable fans of this series treasure the episodes written by Jackson Gillis need look no further than this superb sci-fi adventure.

2. Crime Wave (February 27, 1953)

With its atmospheric night shots of rain-slicked streets, and its killing of a half-dozen people before the first line of dialogue, viewers may wonder if they’ve tuned into The Untouchables by mistake. In this gritty, action packed episode, typical of the series’ first season, Superman pledges to cleanse Metropolis of organized crime. His crusade is threatened when a top mob boss discovers his secret identity. Reeves plays the angry scourge of the underworld with conviction, though he is better remembered today as the kinder, gentler Superman of the series’ later seasons.

3. Around the World With Superman(March 13, 1954)

The series’ emotional zenith is achieved in this gut-wrencher written by Jackson Gillis. A little girl is blinded in a car crash and her father, guilt-ridden over the accident, deserts the family. The girl writes a letter explaining her plight to the Daily Planet. Superman uses his x-ray vision to locate fragments of glass in the girl’s optic nerve, and helps surgeons to restore her vision. He then sweeps the girl in his arms and flies her around the world. The rear-projected shots of the Eiffel Tower and the Himalayas may not be state-of-the-art, but the impact of the moment is undiminished by primitive special effects.

I’ve already written dozens of other entries, which I may incorporate into future blog posts about those shows. In the meantime, if there are any publishers among my readers, I’m still game if you are.

In 2013 I wrote abouthow I enjoyed connecting via Facebook with television stars that, when I was young, seemed to live in a very different world. It’s another reminder of how much we take for granted that was unimaginable 20 years ago.

As you may know, Facebook has two statuses in the case of celebrities – “Friends,” which is the same status as you have for your family members and coworkers and all the people you knew in high school, and “Follow” which means their messages appear on your wall, but yours do not appear on theirs.

I don’t do follows. I get why they’re necessary – Taylor Swift probably wouldn’t enjoy logging on and being told that another 230,000 of her 74 million followers are having a birthday – but to me “follower” status is no different than the mail order fan clubs of yesteryear. It’s a way for the star’s team to keep you informed about new projects, but there’s no real interaction. You’re just another potential customer.

Let me introduce you to a few more of my famous Facebook friends.

Maureen McCormick

Yes, this was a big deal to me, as it would be for anyone who grew up on The Brady Bunch. She is a fairly recent convert to Facebook, and her posts thus far have been unfailingly cheerful, optimistic and supportive. Given the trials she’s faced in her life, it feels good to know that someone who brought so much joy to others through her career is now in an equally happy place herself. Meanwhile, Susan Olsen continues to ignore my “Friend” request. Maybe she got lost in the Grand Canyon again.

Barry Livingston

He was the bespectacled Ernie on My Three Sons, but you’ll also see him pre-Ernie in reruns of The Dick Van Dyke Show and Ozzie & Harriet and The Lucy Show, and on Room 222 and Ironside and many more in the years that followed. What is so admirable about Barry is that he is just as busy now. Many of his frequent FB posts are new job announcements, which have included parts in such films as Argo and Jersey Boys, and on shows like Glee and Rizzoli & Isles. He remains the very definition of a working actor.

Donna Loren

Singer-actress Donna Loren was one of the quintessential all-American teenage dream girls of the 1960s. She appeared in some of the “Beach” movies with Frankie Avalon and Annette Funicello, starred in the music series Shindig! and was the Dr. Pepper girl in a series of impossibly cute commercials. Loren was also Suzy the felonious cheerleader in a memorable Joker episode of Batman(finally on blu-ray!). This is where Facebook can be a wonderful thing – it gives Donna a chance to stay connected to fans new and old, and provides a way for long-time admirers like me to acquire an autographed CD.

Kathryn Leigh Scott

I first met Kathryn pre-Facebook when I interviewed her for an article on Dark Shadows (she played Maggie Evans and Josette du Pres’ among other characters). Subsequent meetings at Dark Shadows conventions eventually led to her publishing my Charlie’s Angels book. She’s out of publishing now but not out of writing – her new mystery novel, Jinxed, is getting great notices.

Dean Butler

He’s closing in on 2,000 Facebook friends now, a testament to the enduring popularity of Little House on the Prairie. Dean Butler played Half Pint’s husband, the unfortunately named Almanzo (or “Zaldano” if you’re Harriet Oleson). He’s not online as much these days but he still makes all the cast reunions and conventions.

Amy Yasbeck

My affection for the perennially underrated Wingsis already well established, so it was a treat to have one of its cast members accept my “Friend” request. I don’t think Amy has mentioned the series once since we’ve been connected online, but she does like to share funny photos and memes just like us regular folk. She also regularly promotes the John Ritter Foundation for Aortic Health. At the moment that means selling t-shirts to support Team Ritter in the 2015 Los Angeles Marathon. I ordered mine – here’s where you can order one too.

Susan Buckner

When we connected on Facebook I knew Susan Buckner almost solely as the school spirit-obsessed Patty Simcox in Grease. I have since learned that she sang and danced behind Dean Martin as a member of the bodacious Golddiggers, and was one of the swimming Kroftettes on The Brady Bunch Hour. Working in a variety series from that era put her in contact with an amazing array of talent, from Farrah Fawcett to Tina Turner to Milton Berle. Susan is one of the most active and engaging posters on my wall, and is always passionate about the causes she believes in, whether its calling out bullies on social media or getting the band War into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.

And here’s a rare combination segue/teaser: Susan also appeared in a few episodes of The Hardy Boys/Nancy Drew Mysteries, which will be the topic of the next Comfort TV blog. That piece will be written for the Classic TV Detectives Blogathon, hosted by the Classic TV Blog Association. See you there!

Note: This is Comfort TV's contribution to The Classic TV Detectives Blogathon, hosted by the Classic TV Blog Association. Read more about it here!

What is it about some fictional characters that makes their popularity persist over decades and generations, while others capture our attention for a season, only to be quickly forgotten?

Whatever the criteria may be for such cultural endurance, the Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew are charter members in that elite company. The first Frank and Joe Hardy mystery novel was published in 1927. Its immediate success inspired the publisher to launch a new series with a female lead, and Nancy Drew was introduced in 1930. New adventures in both series were published in 2013.

Neither of their “creators” – Franklin W. Dixon for the Hardys, Carolyn Keene for Nancy – ever existed. They were pseudonyms under which hundreds of books were written by dozens of different authors who labored largely in anonymity. But the stories they told have influenced generations – Nancy in particular has been cited as a formative influence by everyone from Hilary Clinton to Oprah Winfrey to Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O’Connor.

Hollywood rediscovers the characters about every 20 years; the Hardy Boys first came to television on The Mickey Mouse Club in the 1950s. The most recent version debuted on Canadian television in 1995. Guess we’re about due for another one. The first Nancy Drew was Bonita Granville, who played the teen sleuth in a series of films beginning in 1938. The most recent Nancy Drew was Emma Roberts in 2007.

For my generation, the characters were personified by Shaun Cassidy, Parker Stevenson and Pamela Sue Martin on The Hardy Boys/Nancy Drew Mysteries (1977-1979). It aired Sunday nights at 7pm on ABC, where theoretically it should have found an audience among teens who thought they were too old for The Wonderful World of Disney on NBC, and too young to watch the grumpy old men on CBS’s 60 Minutes.

That didn’t happen, and even now it’s hard to figure out why. Cassidy and Stevenson could not have been more poster-ready, with Cassidy’s teen idol status amplified by a string of hit singles that not surprisingly found their way into the show.

And while Martin seemed to always get the weaker stories, she tried to capture some of the intelligence, resourcefulness and New England pluck that made Nancy so appealing in the books.

No, it wasn’t a great show, but quality has never been a pre-requisite for TV success. Anyone expecting meticulously-plotted mysteries with shock twists and clever reveals left disappointed by whodunits that were more Scooby-Doo than Agatha Christie. By season two even the rudimentary mystery format was largely abandoned, in favor of dropping the characters into exotic (backlot) locales and telling the same kinds of stories you’d see on Barnaby Jones.

Despite the dearth of classic episodes the series did provide a few memorable moments. “The Mystery of the Diamond Triangle” is the best of the Nancy Drew mysteries – Nancy sees a car disappear after an accident, and launches her own investigation after no one believes her story. Rick Nelson, the Shaun Cassidy of an earlier era, meets the Hardy Boys in “The Flickering Torch Mystery.”

“A Haunting We Will Go” is a broadly played Nancy Drew whodunit with a fun guest cast – Bob Crane, Victor Buono, Carl Betz and Dina Merrill. “Sole Survivor” begins with Joe Hardy waking up in a Hong Kong hospital, where he is told he’s been in a coma for a year, and his father and brother are dead.

It's also a great show for playing "spot the '70s guest star," with appearances from Debra Clinger ("Oh Say Can You Sing"), Joan Prather ("The Mystery of the Ghostwriters' Cruise"), Howard Cosell ("Mystery of the Solid Gold Kicker"), Casey Kasem ("Mystery of the Hollywood Phantom"), Maureen McCormick ("Nancy Drew's Love Match") and Maren Jensen ("Death Surf").

The show actually made one important contribution to Hardy/Drew lore, by allowing the characters to meet for the first time.

Shockingly, despite sharing the same publisher for decades, Nancy and the Hardys never worked a case together in the books. That changed with the season two opener “The Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew Meet Dracula.” In this two-part adventure, Frank and Joe trace their missing father to Dracula’s castle, which has been rented out for a superstar rock concert (said superstar played by Paul Williams). Nancy, who had been working for the brothers’ dad on a case, joins the search, and sparks fly between her and Frank.

Several subsequent crossover episodes followed, but they couldn’t bolster the popularity of the Drew stories, which were dropped in the series’ final season. Pamela Sue Martin apparently saw it coming as she left before the end of season two, after appearing in a trench coat (and nothing else) on the cover of Playboy.

Eighteen year-old Janet Louise Johnson took over the role for the final three stories featuring Nancy Drew. By then the show had already endured more recasts than Petticoat Junction. Susan Buckner replaced Jean Rasey as Nancy’s sidekick George, and Rick Springfield replaced George O’Hanlon, Jr. as the Nancy-smitten Ned Nickerson. Only the ever-stalwart William Schallert, as Nancy’s detective dad Carson Drew, went the distance.

Television eventually did get Nancy Drew right, but by then it was called Veronica Mars.

Flying solo again in their final season, the Hardys found themselves in somewhat darker stories, beginning with the murder of Joe’s fiancée, probably not the kind of tale that appealed to the show's teen girl demographic. The plug was pulled after eight episodes.

We will certainly see more attempts at reviving and updating Frank, Joe and Nancy, but until then The Hardy Boys/Nancy Drew Mysteriesarguably remains the definitive treatment, despite its shortcomings. Why it didn’t connect with a wider audience may be the only mystery our trio of young sleuths could not solve.

Theoretically the two-part episode is an option that should be utilized only in conjunction with a major milestone in a series (births, deaths, new character introductions, weddings, big name guest star) or when a writer comes up with an idea that is so good, it deserves a little extra breathing room to be fully explored.

But think back over the hundreds of two-parters presented in the Comfort TV era – how many of them really needed more time to tell their stories?

Having conducted my own informal study, I would say the results are about 50/50. Too often, these shows were a marketing ploy to leverage the built-in ‘event’ status afforded to super-sized episodes. That’s why they were used so often to open or close a season.

When there is legitimate reason for a “continued next week” freeze-frame, the result is often one of the most memorable moments in a series – think “The Menagerie” on Star Trek, “Fearless Fonzarelli” on Happy Days or “Carnival of Thrills” on The Dukes of Hazzard.

And when there is not enough content to justify a second episode, we’re left with a story that might have worked as a single show, padded and stretched to fill out a longer running time.

This is a big topic and one that may be revisited in a future blog, but for now here are five examples of when TV got it right – and five underwhelming misses.

Good: Family Ties: “The Real Thing”

Alex Keaton had no shortage of girlfriends in the first three seasons of Family Ties, but when he meets Ellen Reed early in season four, the show wanted to make sure we knew this was going to be different. Their opposites-attract romance, bolstered by the strains of Billy Vera’s “At This Moment,” was a major turning point for Alex and for Michael J. Fox, who is still married to the girl that played Ellen, Tracy Pollan.

Bad: Charlie’s Angels: “Terror on Skis”

A typical Angels plot – protect a government agent from foreign radicals – is hampered by scene after scene of monotonous stock footage of people skiing during the day, at night, and in freestyle competitions. I had a little inside information on this one, having interviewed the episode’s writer, Ed Lakso, for my Charlie’s Angels book. He readily confessed to padding out the story to justify a location shoot in Vail, Colorado, because his wife wanted to go skiing.

Good: The Dick Van Dyke Show: “I Am My Brother’s Keeper/The Sleeping Brother”

These episodes introduced Dick Van Dyke’s brother Jerry, playing Rob Petrie’s brother, Stacy. The bizarre plot has Stacy trying to break into show business but only being able to perform while he’s asleep (due to a rare, advanced form of sleepwalking). Despite that contrivance the shows are smart and funny, particularly during the cast performances at those Bonnie Meadow Rd. house parties that always made the suburbs looks so cool and sophisticated.

Bad: Eight is Enough: “And Baby Makes Nine”

Flashbacks are a convenient way to stretch a story, but no two episodes abused that privilege more than the Season 5 opener of Eight is Enough. The saga of Susan’s difficult delivery of her baby not only offers numerous looks back at her romance with and marriage to Merle, it also reprises scenes that aired just ten minutes earlier in the same episode. Why not just play the theme song again while you’re at it?

Good: Get Smart: “A Man Called Smart”

The only thing tougher to pull off than a great two-part episode? A great three-part episode. But the laughs never fizzle in “A Man Called Smart,” an adventure originally conceived for theatrical release but re-cut for the series. One physical comedy sequence with a stretcher and a revolving door is as funny as anything that’s ever been on television.

Bad: Mission: Impossible: “The Contender”

For all its many outstanding qualities, M:I never got a two-part episode right. I chose “The Contender” because the plot was particularly weak – capturing a guy who fixes prize fights seems beneath the IMF – but I also could have gone with “The Slave” or “The Council” or “The Controllers.” Viewers were accustomed to seeing the team solve any problem in an hour, and writers could never dream up any good reason for some missions to take longer.

Good: The Bionic Woman: “Doomsday is Tomorrow”

Where Mission: Impossible struggled with the two-part format, The Bionic Womanflourished. From the irresistible “Fembots in Las Vegas” to “Deadly Ringer,” the shows that earned Lindsay Wagner an Emmy, the series was always at its best with multi-episode storylines. My favorite is “Doomsday is Tomorrow,” in which Jaime must figure out how to shut off a computerized weapon (with a HAL 9000 voice) capable of destroying all life on earth.

Bad: The Facts of Life: “Teenage Marriage”

So many shows have built two-part episodes around potential crises that cannot possibly come to pass, lest it mean the end of the series. Here, Mrs. Garrett and the Eastland girls try to prevent Jo from marrying her boyfriend. Had Nancy McKeon announced she was leaving the show, we might have bought into the conflict; but this was her first season, and we all knew she wasn’t going anywhere, extra episode or not.

Good: Little House on the Prairie: “I’ll Be Waving as You Drive Away”

The Ingalls family face their darkest hour when Mary loses her sight after a bout with scarlet fever. The scene where Charles must tell his daughter the diagnosis, while barely able to control his own heartbreak, is devastating. Mary attends a school for the blind, where she gradually comes to terms with her fate in a hopeful finale.

Bad: Laverne & Shirley: “The Festival”

When a two-part episode is inspired by a road trip, it helps if we actually see the characters go somewhere. Here, Laverne, Shirley, Lenny, Squiggy, Frank and Edna all “travel” from Milwaukee to New York, but all they really do is visit a different part of the studio backlot. Not much fun to be had, unless you enjoy watching Penny Marshall climb a greased metal pole.

I thought I knew my Hanna-Barbera. Not just The Flintstones and Jonny Quest and the other big guns, but all the Scoobyknock-offs that filled my Saturday mornings in the 1970s – Clue Club, Funky Phantom, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kids. I can banter on The Hair Bear Bunch, discuss the finer points of Devlin and name each member of the Chan Clan.

So it was humbling when, last year, I discovered an H-B series that I had not only never watched, but never knew existed.

The New Adventures of Huckleberry Finn debuted in 1968 on NBC, airing Sunday nights at 7pm. Canceled after 20 episodes, the series was rerun as part of The Banana Splits Hour in the 1970s.

That’s the part that confuses me because I watched the Banana Splits as a kid and remember several of the features between the Splits’ skits, like The Three Musketeers (who could forget that annoying pissant, Tooly?), Arabian Nights and the wacky serial Danger Island. But if I had watched Huckleberry Finn I would remember, because bizarre concepts like this one are hard to forget.

For those as oblivious to its existence as I was, here’s a brief introduction. Mark Twain’s iconic literary characters Huck Finn, Becky Thatcher and Tom Sawyer (all played by real actors) are chased into a cave by the villainous Injun Joe. They emerge on the other side and become lost in an ever-changing world of Hanna-Barbera animation.

For the remainder of the series, the three young friends wander into jungles and deserts and pirate ships and frozen wastelands, surviving various escapades while always trying to make their way back to Hannibal, Missouri.

I found it all rather ridiculous on first viewing. Why these characters, and not three present-day teenagers with whom young viewers could more easily identify? Perhaps the idea was to leverage their built-in name recognition (this was the era before Huck Finn was banned from school libraries). But while it’s more enjoyable to read Twain than most novels assigned in English class, I doubt there were many students eager to follow Tom, Huck and Becky into more adventures.

The cast was unable to convey the same qualities that made the characters memorable in the books. Michael Shea’s Huck is not the crude outcast Twain envisioned, but a wide-eyed, easygoing country boy given to exclamations of “Criminy!” while fleeing from Mongol hordes or Egyptian mummies.

Lu Ann Haslam’s Becky is sweet but not as clever as she had to be in the book to catch Tom’s eye. Here she’s given little more to do than cheer on the boys as they deal with the villain of the week (“Hurry, Tom!” “Watch out, Huck!”). Only Kevin Schultz’s Tom Sawyer retains some of the mischievous wit and heroic streak he had in Twain’s novels.

The blend of live-action with animation was uncharted territory for Hanna-Barbera, though audiences had certainly seen this trick before – most famously perhaps in Mary Poppins. It’s handled well here, which is surprising as the H-B studio has never been synonymous with technological wizardry.

The young leads do their best to react to hand-drawn backgrounds and characters, with inconsistent results. In “Menace in the Ice,” you would think barefoot Huck might look a little more uncomfortable after walking across miles of snow.

So, not a great show, though I will understand if I hear opposing views in the comments from those who grew up with it. Nostalgia certainly makes it easier for me to happily overlook the flaws in Wonderbugand The Secrets of Isis.

But against my better judgment, I do enjoy it. There’s irresistible comfort in watching H-B animation from this era, and hearing the familiar voices (Don Messick, Janet Waldo, Daws Butler, Paul Frees) featured in all of the company’s shows.

And just when you think you’ve got its formula figured out, The New Adventures of Huckleberry Finn will surprise you. In an episode called “The Gorgon’s Head” there’s a quiet moment when Huck and Becky talk about how long they’ve been away, and how summer has turned to fall back in Hannibal, and about the people that must be missing them. You’d never see that kind of raw emotion in Speed Buggy.

I also really like the theme song, another H-B asset (sometimes their songs are better than the shows!). It plays over a live-action closing credit sequence set on a Mississippi steamboat, which makes me wonder if it takes place before the characters got lost, or is meant to be reassurance that they eventually do find their way home. It’s the only time you see the three friends really happy.

Sadly, there was no final episode to provide any resolution. But how great would it have been if Hanna-Barbera characters had been included in 1988’s Who Framed Roger Rabbit? When Eddie Valiant drives into Toon Town, we might have glimpsed Tom, Huck and Becky, now in their 30s but wearing the same clothes, still trying tofind that elusive cave that will take them back to Missouri.

Other Terrible Shows I Like:

Tabitha

The Amazing-Spider-Man

Imagine a place where all of the instantly recognizable objects associated with classic television are on display. It doesn’t exist, so we’ll create it here, and pay tribute to many of our favorite Comfort TV things.

Let’s start with television’s most famous doll (or at least its most famous non-homicidal doll –sorry, Talky Tina fans).

Mrs. Beasley was the best friend to Buffy Davis on Family Affair from the first episode of the series until its final episode, five years later. By then, most young girls had started to outgrow their dolls, as illustrated in the most heart-shattering manner possible by Jessie in Toy Story 2 (curse you, Sarah McLachlan!).

But it never seemed odd for Buffy to still care about her constant companion, though one might wonder how Anissa Jones felt about playing some of those scenes when she was 13 years old.

This is one of those situations where I wonder whether series creator Don Fedderson had a purpose in selecting the type of doll that was right for Buffy, or if it just seems like a wonderfully perceptive choice in retrospect.

Most little girls prefer baby dolls, so they can play the mother; or they’ll be drawn to the wish-fulfillment appeal of Barbie, with her Malibu dream house and square-jawed boyfriend and endless closet full of perfect outfits.

Mrs. Beasley, with her old-fashioned blue polka-dot dress and spectacles, looked like a kindly grandmother. That seems strange at first, but it makes perfect sense that a little girl who lost her parents would be more comforted by the presence of a mature image than by an infant. Here was an older person who cared about her, who was never going to leave her behind.

The doll’s most memorable appearance came in the first season episode “Mrs. Beasley, Where Are You?” in which Mr. French accidentally knocks her off the terrace ledge of Uncle Bill’s deluxe apartment in the sky. Buffy’s crippling separation anxiety, a recurring theme throughout season one, is brought back to the fore as Buffy tries to cope with another loss: “People you love always go away. I know.”

Family Affair. Not for the faint of heart.

Mrs. Beasley also plays a pivotal role in the climax of “The Toy Box” from season two, which starts with Uncle Bill doing his best Rob Petrie impression after tripping over Jody’s skateboard. That mishap inspires a new Davis home rule: any toys not put away properly will be locked up and donated to charity.

You probably see where this is going. One inadvertent jostle as Buffy runs off to wash for dinner lands Mrs. Beasley on the floor, and when Mr. French sees the doll lying there he is devastated at the thought of what happens next (Sebastian Cabot is amazing in this very brief scene).

Thankfully, Uncle Bill believes the experiment has served its purpose, and not only commutes Mrs. Beasley’s sentence, but also liberates all the other confiscated toys. Whew!

Mattel introduced a 21-inch talking version of Mrs. Beasley to the toy market in 1967, one year after Family Affair debuted. This created another classic TV connection for the doll, as the voice in the Mattel version was provided by Maureen McCormick.

This was a natural marketing opportunity, but I was surprised at how many other Mrs. Beasley items were also produced, including coloring books and paper dolls and a jigsaw puzzle and even a “Where’s Mrs. Beasley?” board game.

Remco tried to replicate the success of Mrs. Beasley with Kitty Karry-All, the dollCindy dragged around a few early Brady Bunch episodes. It didn’t work.

If you want a Mattel Mrs. Beasley now, it will cost you more than $200. A lot of the dolls are still in circulation, but very few still talk or have the original black plastic glasses, which broke easily. Of course, the one on display in our Comfort TV museum is safely under glass where it can be enjoyed by future generations.

I have already posted that Comfort TV is not a place for obituaries, but I felt compelled to write a few words about James Best, whose death was announced today. I don’t want to break my own rule, so let’s call this a remembrance instead.

When I wrote my book on The Dukes of Hazzard back in 1998, James Best was the only actor involved with the show who asked whether he would be paid for doing an interview. I’m not saying this to disparage the man so close to his passing – because then, as now, I understood why he felt entitled to ask that question.

Like so many television stars of that era, who watched with disbelief as the cast of Friends negotiated themselves a deal that paid each of them $1 million per episode, Jimmie Best always felt that he was not fairly compensated for his talent and his contribution to a classic and much-loved television series.

We’re not comparing shows from the 1950s to those 30 years later, when such salary escalation would be expected: Dukes ended in 1985; Friends debuted in 1994. There is less than ten years between them. And now that both have ended their runs we think of them in the same terms, even if they appeal to different fan bases – classic, long-running shows, that still air on TV every day, and that still make us happy every time we get a chance to be reacquainted with old friends.

How much of the enduring love for The Dukes of Hazzardcan be attributed to James Best? I was a teenager when the show debuted, so for me at first it was all about the Dukes themselves. Bo and Luke, so cool, fighting the good fight, outrunning the hapless Hazzard cops, jumping the General Lee over rivers and trains and whatever else stood in their way to clearing their names following yet another crime they did not commit.

And then there was Daisy. No explanation needed for the impact she made on a young man at the time.

But when I revisited the show as an adult, in preparation for writing the book, I gained a renewed appreciation for Best’s remarkable, ever-sputtering portrayal of Sheriff Rosco. Together with Sorrell Booke as Boss Hogg, the pair was one of the most underappreciated comedy teams that television ever produced.

I’m sure I thought they were funny the first time around – but then those scenes played more like filler between car chases and hot pants sightings. Today, they are the highlight of every episode. The timing, the physical comedy bits, the way Rosco’s affection for Boss never wavered despite the treatment he received. Boss and Rosco were a redneck version of Ralph Kramden and Ed Norton – frequently at each other’s throats but the best of friends beneath the bluster.

One need look no further than the season two episode “Granny Annie” to appreciate Rosco’s affection for his “little fat buddy.” Boss has been kidnapped and Rosco tied up at the sheriff’s station, but he gets to the CB radio and pleads with Bo and Luke to rescue his friend, despite all the trouble Boss has inflicted on the Duke family.

It’s a poignant and beautiful moment in a show that never liked to get too sentimental. And it’s a reminder of what actors can bring to scripts that don’t have much else going for them. No other series illustrated this more clearly than The Dukes of Hazzard. The show’s writing was generally weak and the plots mind-numbingly repetitive. But we never got tired of watching as long as it was Boss and Rosco (and Enos) taking on Bo, Luke, Daisy and Uncle Jesse.

When John Schneider and Tom Wopat walked out for most of the series’ fifth season, and were replaced by two lookalike actors, the show became almost unwatchable. Likewise, when James Best decided he was tired of driving squad cars into lakes and not being given such basic accommodations as protective clothing and ear drops to prevent infection (once again, he was right), he left the show until his demands were met. A parade of substitute sheriffs (Dick Sargent, Clifton James, James Hampton) could not even approach the unique comedic talent Best brought to the role.

So when James Best asked if he would be paid for an interview, he was saying, “I created a character that millions of people still love. I brought something to this show that no one else likely could have. I didn’t get a cut of the merchandising on a show that inspired thousands of products, and even though you can still watch me play Sheriff Rosco P. Coltrane every day on television, the checks from that job stopped coming a long time ago.”

I got it. My book’s publisher predictably refused the request, but Jimmie ultimately came around and did the interview anyway. He wanted to be a part of the book. He wanted to say some kind words about Sorrell Booke, who had passed away. He wanted the fans to know that he loved Rosco, too.

Underpaid? Absolutely. But who can put a price on what is now 40 years of happy memories shared by millions of fans? Even those Friends salaries don’t come close.

I love episode guides.

There are dozens of television show companion books in my library, and I particularly enjoy revisiting those that devote most of their pages to an in-depth examination of each episode from their respective series.

Books like this were plentiful 15-25 years ago, when there was more of a market for TV companion volumes. Back then, you could go into any bookstore and the “Film/TV” section would comprise an entire aisle. Today, that subject is lucky to secure a single shelf in the six or seven bookstores still in business.

Since the advent of the Internet, episode guides have moved online – and almost all of them are crap. There are exceptions – “Family Affair Fridays” over at Embarrassing Treasures offers wonderfully insightful and frequently hilarious analysis of that charming sitcom, but most website guides provide nothing beyond episode titles, airdates and guest cast listings.

That’s why I was delighted when Adam-Michael James’s new The Bewitched Continuumlanded with a Yellow Pages-like crash on my doorstep. It delivers more than 600 pages of Bewitched episode guide. That will either strike you as overkill or “Oh, yeah!” If you’re in the latter category, you’ll definitely want to check out this exhaustively researched chronicle.

An episode guide does its job when it makes you want to take the journey through the series again. Not that most classic TV fans ever need an excuse. But a well-written guide offers the possibility of seeing something new in a 40 year-old TV show, or better understanding how a single episode fits within the context of the entire series. It adds to our appreciation of a creative work.

As I began reading The Bewitched Continuum I found myself learning things about shows that I have watched a dozen times. James provides a synopsis of each episode, followed by a review that focuses primarily on how consistent the show played by the rules it established for witches and witchcraft (short answer: not too well).

The author also points out the best moments in each show, offers renewed appreciation for the series’ still-impressive special effects, and cites examples of inspired dialogue (writers always appreciate good writing). In addition to the episode guide, he provides a by-the-numbers overview of Bewitched that tells us how many times Darrin was fired by Larry Tate (15) and how many times Endora calls Darrin “Durwood” (133!) among dozens of other trivia nuggets.

If you enjoy books like The Bewitched Continuum, here are five other classic TV tomes with episode guides done right. I’ll refrain from including my own efforts in my Dukes of Hazzard and Charlie’s Angels books – that is for others to judge.

1. The Lucy Book (Geoffrey Mark Fidelman)

In one volume you’ll get detailed episode guides to I Love Lucy, The Lucy Show,Here’s Lucy and Life With Lucy. The author is a fan of his subject, but he is not afraid to call out episodes where Lucy was just going through the motions.

2. Growing Up Brady (Barry Williams)

Very few classic TV actors would have any interest in sharing their thoughts on every episode of the series that made them famous. But here, Barry Williams offers the ultimate insider’s view of The Brady Bunch, including the episode where he was stoned on camera.

3. The Fugitive Recaptured (Ed Robertson)

One of television’s crown jewels deserves an episode guide worthy of its status. Ed Robertson delivers with discerning show reviews and interviews with cast members, producers, writers and series creator Roy Huggins.

4. The Avengers Dossier (Paul Cornell, Martin Day and Keith Topping)

It’s quirky, with star ratings for such categories as “Kinkiness Factor,” “Champagne” and “Eccentrics.” But The Avengerswas a unique show that merits an equally off-kilter appraisal.

5. The First 28 Years of Monty Python (Kim “Howard” Johnson)

Monty Python historian Kim Johnson has written five books on the British comedy troupe. Here, every episode of the Flying Circus is described and dissected, along with quotes from all six Pythons on the stuff they liked, the stuff they didn’t, and what was censored for American broadcast.

What happens when you take classic TV characters out of their familiar surroundings and send them to Las Vegas?

The question has been posed in countless writer’s rooms over the past 50 years, resulting in enough Vegas episodes to fill a week-long marathon.

However, a distinction should be drawn between shows that say they’re going to Vegas, and those that actually do it. It’s just a 50 minute flight from L.A., but the logistics of moving a show that far for one or two episodes was obviously too daunting for most budgets and shooting schedules.

Of all the series with a Las Vegas episode, 90-95% relied on a stock montage of Strip resorts and Glitter Gulch neon, followed by an interior establishing shot of characters entering some sorry-looking fictional casino, hastily assembled on a soundstage, with one blackjack table and five slot machines.

It could work when it was done right – Perfect Strangershad a hilarious show that pretended to be set in – let’s all say it like Balki – “Vay-gaaaaaaaaas.” But usually the most memorable episodes are those where you actually see the characters in the city.

Let’s take a look at four stand-outs from this much smaller sample size. Having lived in the Las Vegas area since 1982 I have a particular affinity for these shows. They captured a moment in time before recent building booms robbed the resort areas of so much of their colorful heritage.

That Girl (“She Never Had the Vegas Notion, Pts. 1 & 2”)

Ann Marie gets a job in a Vegas show supporting headliner Marty Haines (Jack Cassidy, as always playing Jack Cassidy). Strait-laced Donald Hollinger has too much to drink, and Marty tricks him into believing he married another of the star’s entourage, as a way to prove to Ann that even the most virtuous man can lose himself in Vegas.

The episodes were filmed in 1969, a great time in the city’s history. You’ll see Ann and Donald dodging cars while crossing Fremont Street (no longer necessary as it’s now closed to traffic), and riding a merry-go-round outside Circus Circus. But most of the filming was done at the legendary Sands, where the Rat Pack reigned throughout the 1960s. If you love that era of show business, it’s a thrill to see the lush hotel grounds and the lavish casino, and a sign outside the showroom that promotes an upcoming appearance by Louis Prima.

The Partridge Family (“What? And Get Out of Show Business?”)

Nothing like starting at the top: in the first episode of this classic series, the Partridge Family appears at Caesars Palace.

As their iconic bus approaches the resort’s main entrance, we see their name in huge letters across the marquee; below, in smaller letters, two other shows are promoted – one for some guy named Duke Ellington. As this was the pilot, filmed before anyone had heard of the series, I can only guess how many passers-by wondered about this group that was top-billed over one of the legendary jazz composers and bandleaders of the 20^th century. You can also make out the marquee for the Flamingo Hilton across the street, where Sonny & Cher were appearing.

The performance that follows this scene was not shot in the resort’s famed Circus Maximus Showroom or anywhere else in the city. In fact, the Vegas footage comprises just one minute of the episode. But the sequence adds an authenticity to the family’s show business success.

The Bionic Woman (“Fembots in Las Vegas, Pts. 1 & 2”)

In which Jaime goes undercover (but not much cover) as the strongest showgirl in Las Vegas history, and chases a Fembot past the fountains outside Caesars Palace. If you couldn’t tell from the title alone, this is a classic slice of Comfort TV cheese.

The casino sequences were filmed at The Maxim, which was located across the street from the original MGM Grand. It closed in 2001.

Charlie’s Angels (“Angels in Vegas, Pts. 1 & 2”)

The series’ season 3 debut had something for everyone – a cameo from Las Vegas’s most famous detective (Robert Urich as Dan Tanna), Kris Munroe singing with Darren Stephens (Dick Sargent), Kelly Garrett joining the famous Folies Bergere revue, and Sabrina Duncan romancing a casino owner played by Dean Martin, who between takes was romancing Kate’s stand-in, Camille Hagan.

Granted, the whodunit payoff at the end is pretty weak, but there’s much fun to be had along the way, including a great speedboat chase and shoot-out at Lake Mead. Most of the action was shot at the Tropicana Resort, which is still here, and the Dunes, which sadly is not.

Imagine a place where all of the instantly recognizable objects associated with classic television are on display. It doesn’t exist so we’ll create it here, and pay tribute to many of our favorite Comfort TV things.

Greek mythology tells of Sisyphus, who was condemned to the underworld for his sins and forced to push a heavy boulder up a steep hill, only to have it roll back down as soon as he finished the job.

Where Sisyphus had his boulder, Oliver Wendell Douglas had his Hoyt-Clagwell tractor.

Both men were cursed to repeatedly have their day’s labor undone bycruel fate (and in Oliver’s case, deficient factory standards). His noble attempts to uphold the tradition of the American farmer he so admired were no match for an ancient derelict vehicle that would fall apart if you tried to ride it, or start it, or even sometimes if you just looked at it the wrong way.

It was Matt Groening, creator of The Simpsons, who described Green Acres as the story of Oliver Douglas in hell. Everything about life in Hooterville bedeviled him at one time or another, from his wife Lisa’s “hotscakes,” also suitable as an afterlife punishment, to the agricultural guidance he received from county agent Hank Kimball, the ideal personification of government bureaucracy.

But Oliver’s Hoyt-Clagwell surpassed mere incompetence to verge on outright malevolence, like a rural version of Stephen King’s ‘Christine.’ Even Mr. Haney, who sold Oliver the tractor, couldn’t control it. In one episode Eb recalled how it used to chase Haney across the field; even on those rare occasions when it’s moving, this tractor cannot be trusted.

I don’t believe it ever chased Oliver, though my Green Acres recollection is not without gaps. I do recall it catching fire, losing wheels, losing its steering wheel, and nearly electrocuting its owner during an attempted battery jump. In the season one episode “Neighborliness,” Oliver tries to attach the tractor to a plow. That didn’t go well, either.

I love the name “Hoyt-Clagwell” because it sounds authentic. Of course, no such company ever existed – and even in the fictional world of Hooterville it had long since passed into history. When Oliver went to Drucker’s General Store to order replacement parts, Sam Drucker told him that Hoyt-Clagwell closed after Mr. Hoyt left the tractor business to make plastic fruit.

The tractor that was immortalized as a Hoyt-Clagwell was actually (according to multiple sources) a 1918 Fordson Model F, and in its day was considered a miracle of modern machinery. That is, when it wasn’t flipping over because of poor weight distribution. The wheels tended to break as well – talk about perfect casting.

Before I began researching this piece, I was not aware that Ertl Toys, makers of die-cast models of many classic TV vehicles, had also made a Hoyt-Clagwell tractor. Now I want one.

Of course, we are proud to have the original here in the museum. For your own safety, however, just don’t get too close.

Note: This review is part of the 2015 Summer of MeTV Classic TV Blogathon hosted by the Classic TV Blog Association. Click here to check out this blogathon's complete schedule.

Writing about the original Star Trek in 2015 is like writing about The Beatles or The Wizard of Ozor sunlight. Everybody knows what it is, thousands of other people have already written about it, and at this point there doesn’t seem much left to add.

So rather than offer yet another tribute to the vision of Gene Roddenberry, or more praise for the show’s forward-thinking philosophy on race and class and technological achievement, and its optimistic view of mankind’s future, I thought it would be a more interesting challenge to find something praiseworthy in what is regarded by fans as the series’ worst episode.

That would be “Spock’s Brain,” the show that kicked off Star Trek’s third and final season. "Frankly during the entire shooting of that episode, I was embarrassed," was Leonard Nimoy’s recollection. And if you’ve heard his singing on “The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins,” you know he doesn’t embarrass easily. Was it justified? Let’s find out.

Our story begins with the Enterprise approaching a mysterious alien craft. Before Captain Kirk can inquire if there might be any attractive young women aboard, one actually beams over, incapacitates the crew and then walks over to Spock and begins stroking his forehead.

Sometime later the crew wakes up. Spock has been moved to sickbay where a solemn Dr. McCoy informs the captain, “His brain is gone.”

“If it was taken out, it can be put back in.” Kirk responds, showing the quick thinking that made him a Captain. But McCoy warns that the procedure must be performed within 24 hours. Because, apparently, a body can’t survive without a brain for more than a day, unless it belongs to a Kardashian.

Thus begins the quest to reunite Spock’s brain with the rest of him, which requires the crew to beam down to a planet populated by cavemen wearing fuzzy blue skirts.

Sound ridiculous? Absolutely. But the next time this episode airs on MeTV and you’re tempted to change the channel, here are five reasons why “Spock’s Brain” is worth your time.

1.Marj Dusay

Before spending two decades on various daytime dramas, Marj Dusay was a frequent and always welcome guest star on many 1960s series like Get Smart, Hogan’s Heroes and The Wild, Wild West. She specialized in seductive brunettes who try to lead good men astray. Removing someone’s brain is going to rather extreme lengths, but it does fit the pattern. As Kara, the woman who makes Spock an involuntary organ donor, Dusay also gets to deliver the episode’s most memorable and inscrutable line: “Brain and brain – what is brain!”

2. William Shatner Gives 110%

Every Trekker has his (or her) William Shatner-as-Kirk impression, complete with convulsive body movements, random pauses between words and other assorted histrionics. The thing is, you don’t see that Shatner in “The Space Seed” or “City on the Edge of Forever,” when the story could stand on its own merits. It was only when the script was lacking that he would try to forcibly inject some drama into substandard material. So when Uhura asks Kirk why someone would steal a brain, Kirk responds, “Yes…why…would…they…want it?” “Spock’s Brain” needs all the help it can get, and Shatner is happy to oblige.

3. It Makes a Perfect Drinking Game

As classic TV drinking games go, it’s hard to top the one for The Bob Newhart Show, in which participants drink every time a character utters the phrase “Hi Bob!” “Spock’s Brain” offers a variation on that theme: Count the number of times “Spock’s brain” is said by Kirk, McCoy and Uhura. If you’re drinking anything alcoholic, you’ll certainly start enjoying the show at some point.

4. The Sitcom Fadeout

Rarely does a Star Trek moment seem appropriate for a laugh track, but one certainly seems to be missing from the denouement of “Spock’s Brain.” After Dr. McCoy’s brain replacement surgery is successful, Spock immediately starts spouting dry scientific observations about the planet’s natives. “I knew it,” McCoy sighs. “I knew I shouldn’t have reconnected his mouth.”

5. It’s Still Better than “Threshold”

The reign of “Spock’s Brain” as the worst moment in Star Trek history ended in 1995. That’s when Voyager released “Threshold,” in which Captain Janeway and Tom Paris were turned into salamanders and had reptile babies. After that, this episode seems almost quaint in its silliness.

And here is one bonus reason to stay tuned: even substandard Star Trek is better than any episode of Dating Naked, Honey Boo Boo, The Real Housewives of Lompoc and much of today’s television, for which brains are also optional.

“What separates classic (or Comfort) TV as a whole from current TV?”

I’ve discussed that topic many times with fellow classic TV fans. Certainly some differences are obvious –maturity of content, cultural inclusion, assertion of more traditional values. But I have always felt it runs deeper than that.

There is something primal in the DNA of these shows that is no longer found in much of today’s television. Exactly what it is, however, can be difficult to put into words.

But I think I’ve finally figured it out.

One night a phrase came into my head that encapsulates what I love about vintage shows, and how they diverge from the current television landscape. No single description will fit hundreds of series from the 1950s through the early 1970s. But as a general summation of philosophy I think this one is pretty close.

Classic TV shows, and more specifically the characters in these shows, originate from a default setting of kindness.

The outlook that emanates from these shows, particularly the situation comedies, is a positive one that is embodied in the demeanor of their characters, who start each new day in a place of contentment with their lives, their families and their careers.

This being television, many episodes introduce complications into these sanguine environments, prompting experiences of sadness, frustration or disappointment. But these too are managed in a civilized manner, and by the next episode the characters have reverted back to their default setting, eager to face the possibilities of another day.

Work was not an ordeal. Most classic TV breadwinners approached the trip to the office not with dread but with appreciation for their jobs. Joe Friday (Dragnet) loved being a cop. Rob Petrie (The Dick Van Dyke Show) reveled in the camaraderie and shared creativity he enjoyed while writing for The Alan Brady Show. Pete Dixon (Room 222) cared about the educations and the futures of his high school students. Pediatrician Alex Stone (The Donna Reed Show) gamely smiled through the screams and tears of his patients. Jim Anderson (Father Knows Best) sold insurance, an occupation associated only with tedium – and carried out his tasks with integrity and professionalism.

Homes were happy places where functional families lived. Children were blessings, not burdens. Doorbells and phone calls were answered with a smile. Communities were closer and neighbors knew each other.

I could cite countless shows and episodes that would support these positions, but this isn’t about specific moments; it’s about the overall impression expressed throughout this entire era. Audiences enjoyed spending time each week with these characters because they were admirable people. Many of us still do.

Of course there are exceptions: Sgt. Bilko, as brilliantly played by Phil Silvers – inveterate gambler, con man and sycophant; grocery store owner Herbert T. Gillis (The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis), perennially frustrated by rude customers and a deadbeat son; bus driver Ralph Kramden (The Honeymooners) had a short fuse that was exacerbated by the repeated failure of his get-rich-quick schemes. But the exceptions only reinforce the argument that most TV Land denizens in this era were basically contented people.

Now, look at any list of this year’s most popular or critically-acclaimed series. What’s the most common default setting for the characters?

I see a lot of people that are self-centered and cynical. I see characters that believe the world owed them a better life than the one they have, who wake up every day into a deck that is stacked against them. I see people that resort to snark because they are uncomfortable with sincerity.

Is that more realistic? Perhaps. But that wasn’t the question and that, for me, is not the top priority of a television show.

I try to have a default setting of kindness. Sometimes it doesn’t last until breakfast, but it’s important to have aspirations. When I need a refresher course in how it’s done, I always know where to look.

To be clear, as “like” is a relative term, justifying any recommendation for The Girl From UNCLE requires some effort, even with the ‘terrible shows’ disclaimer.

This series will not appeal to most casual TV fans. If you enjoyed The Man From UNCLE you’ll want to check it out; if you are a fan of Stefanie Powers from Hart to Hart, you may be curious about her first series. If you have an affinity for the “swinging ‘60s” era, or that decade’s tongue-in-cheek spy craze that launched with James Bond, you may want to explore all of its artifacts.

But even with an open mind and/or a predisposition for the genre, many of you will not make it through all 29 episodes. I did, but it took awhile, and I don’t have a return visit planned anytime soon.

What eases the series ever so slightly into a ‘like’ category, beyond a mere 6-7 agreeable episodes, was the potential for fun that was clearly present but never fully realized. This, despite the best efforts of two actors with enough chemistry and charisma to invigorate less than adequate stories.

The Girl From UNCLE (I know technically it’s U.N.C.L.E. but that’s too much work to keep typing) was a 1966 spin-off of The Man From UNCLE (1964-1968), a clever and well-cast series that caught the zeitgeist of the times…and generated 60,000 fan letters every month addressed to Robert Vaughn (as the suave Napoleon Solo) and David McCallum (who became an international teen idol as Russian good guy Illya Kuryakin).

Like Batman, another ‘60s TV phenomenon, the show featured eccentric villains played by distinguished guest stars, and found a sweet spot between stylish action and self-aware camp: “We could make one of our daringly resourceful and nauseatingly punctual escapes – if only the door weren’t locked” laments Illya in a typical episode.

The 1966 episode “The Moonglow Affair” introduced Mary Ann Mobley as UNCLE agent April Dancer and Norman Fell as her partner, Mark Slate. The Girl From UNCLE was recast with Stefanie Powers as April, and Noel Harrison (the son of Rex Harrison) as Slate. Leo G. Carroll played UNCLE boss Alexander Waverly in both series.

April had Emma Peel’s fashion sense and gift for understatement, but none of her intelligence or fighting skills. For a trained secret agent she was, for the most part, incompetent. That’s not how Mobley played her in “The Moonglow Affair,” and one can only wonder why the character was not allowed to retain her aptitude and resourcefulness. Powers – stylish, sly, sexy – tried to give viewers a reason to care even as the show undermined her at every turn.

Noel Harrison is the series’ real find, even if like Stefanie he rarely received anything interesting to do. But whether an episode was trending as silly as Get Smart, or required a moment of playing it straight, as in the opening scenes of “The Double-O Nothing Affair,” Harrison adapted effortlessly to the inconsistent tone with Carnaby Street charm unscathed.

Fortunately, the show didn’t kill his career any more than it did his co-star’s – though he may be better remembered now as a singer.

If The Girl from UNCLE had given its agents something – anything – to build from, the result may have been more successful. But it didn’t, and I really cannot stress enough how badly this show was written. Episodes like “The Drublegratz Affair” seem virtually plot-less, meandering from scene to scene with no sense of direction or purpose.

One assumes they were trying to find the same quirky tone of its UNCLE predecessor, but I can’t be sure because many episodes are so inept it’s hard to figure out what they were trying to do. Any show that can make a writer as gifted as Jackson Gillis look overmatched should never have emerged when it did from the development stage.

Sometimes, they lucked into the right formula. The first show, “The Dog Gone Affair,” raises false hopes in a wonderful scene where April escapes an elaborate deathtrap without any help. “The Faustus Affair” ends with a Benny Hill-like chase through a mad scientist’s lab, that is so ridiculous I couldn’t help smiling. “The Mother Muffin Affair” is indisputably the best segment, thanks to a Napoleon Solo crossover and a nemesis played by Boris Karloff in drag.

There’s also an interesting array of guest stars, including some that rarely appeared on shows like this. You expect Dom DeLuise (who appears in one of the better outings, “The Danish Blue Affair”); but when Stan Freberg pops up as a henpecked husband in the otherwise dreadful “The Carpathian Killer Affair,” or Peggy Lee plays a western saloon owner in “The Furnace Flats Affair,” it helps pass the time.

When I finished The Girl From UNCLE, I felt the same way I did after watching the 1984 film Supergirl, which squandered the perfect casting of Helen Slater. What good does it do to get the most difficult and important part of the project right, and just about everything else wrong? I’ve watched Supergirl at least three more times hoping it will somehow get better, and it never does. Kara Zor-El, meet April Dancer. She’s in another terrible show I like.

My Christmas TV List

What is Your Classic TV Constant?

It’s Just Another New Year’s Eve

Revisiting Bosom Buddies

The Comfort TV Trivia Quiz

Creating a Comfort TV Viewing Night

Mornings with The Price is Right

What Might Have Been: TV: The Top Three

Checking in with More Comfort TV Facebook Friends

Sleuthing in the ‘70s with The Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew

Classic TV Two-Part Episodes: Hits and Misses

Terrible Shows I Like: The New Adventures of Huckleberry Finn

The Museum of Comfort TV Salutes: Mrs. Beasley

James Best: Remembering Rosco

The Bewitched Continuum, and Other Outstanding Classic TV Episode Guides

The Vegas Episode

The Museum of Comfort TV Salutes: The Hoyt-Clagwell Tractor

In Defense of “Spock’s Brain”

A Default Setting of Kindness

Terrible Shows I Like: The Girl from UNCLE