The Things We Learn on TV: Step Four

Like many of you, I grew up with my eyes glued to a 13-inch low definition screen with rabbit ears twisting in different directions to improve reception. Now, while the picture was crude the programming was superb. Chuck Connors as the Rifleman, James Garner as Brett Maverick, Richard Boone as Paladin, whose card read, “Have Gun, Will Travel.” Besides the cowboys there were the agents, and there was no one better than Robert Stack as Elliot Ness. Of course when we played cops and robbers in the neighborhood it was much better to be one of the gangsters. From this vantage point it might appear to be the sharp looking pinstripe suit Bruce Gordon wore as mobster Frank Nitti, but I realize I wasn’t interested in clothes until a number of years later. So, you might wonder why I was wearing the too long khaki pants when my mother had told me to go back in the house and change. The reason was I was a kid. Kids don’t waste time changing clothes; they just roll up the cuffs and get out to play for as long as they can before the sun goes down. So, naturally, when we were putting some distance between the “cops” and ourselves I didn’t think my pants are too long to be hopping over a picket fence. When the cuff caught on the pointed slat and I spun around feeling something strange in my leg, all I thought is help me off of this fence so we can get away. However, as pain shot up through the top of my skull I found myself lying on cool grass in a stranger’s backyard. Sirens, a gathering crowd of familiar and unfamiliar faces, a friendly firefighter telling me to bite down on the wool blanket he put over me, and my mother with tears asking, “Why didn’t you listen to me?” Of course, then I wouldn’t have gotten the nice cast that my friends wrote all over and which itched and throbbed every night for weeks. Nor, would I have had the chance to walk on crutches and have to stay in Mrs. Rose’s room with Fay while all the other kids went upstairs to lunch. Fay was a great kid, especially for a girl. We’d swap things our parents put in our lunches. Sometimes, we’d draw on the chalkboard or play hangman. One time, I convinced Fay to try out my crutches. She was moving pretty good when one of them came up a little high and knocked a porcelain figure off Mrs. Rose’s desk. Fay was all upset and looked like she might cry. I lowered myself to the floor and picked up the broken pieces and put them in my lunch bag. We never said a thing, and neither did Mrs. Rose. So, if you’re reading this Mrs. Rose I want you to know I’m really sorry, and I think Fay is too. Please feel free to comment or respond, whether you are Mrs. Rose or someone else.