Whatever Happened to the Good Old Days of Television?

Everybody seems to be binge-watching television these days. Multiple episodes in one evening. Entire seasons consumed in a matter of days. Some people even manage to watch an entire series in a single week. I suppose it’s efficient. Why wait seven days for the next episode when you can watch the next six installments in one sitting?

But I’ve never quite understood the appeal.

Maybe it’s my short attention span, but I have a hard time sitting in front of a television for more than an hour or two each evening (unless, of course, it’s an exciting football game). I’d much rather spend my time reading or writing than watching one television episode after another. And I certainly don’t have the patience to spend an entire weekend watching a television series.

It seems to me that the whole binge-watching phenomenon really took off during COVID. When everyone was confined to their homes, looking for ways to fill the endless hours, television became a welcome escape. My wife, for example, managed to binge-watch all seven seasons of The West Wing. I watched a little more television than usual myself, but even then, I found myself gravitating back to the things I enjoy most: reading and writing.

Still, all this talk about streaming and binge-watching has me thinking about a very different era of television. For those of us who grew up in the golden age of TV, the experience was something altogether different.

Remember when there were only three major television networks? ABC, CBS, and NBC. No Netflix, no Hulu, no Amazon Prime, no DVRs, and certainly no streaming services that allowed you to watch whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted. Television operated on a schedule, and you had to organize your life around it.

There were fall and spring television seasons. Every September, the networks introduced their new shows, and viewers eagerly anticipated the return of their old favorites. There was something almost ceremonial about the release of the fall television schedule. I remember waiting for the listings to appear each summer, scanning the list to see when my favorite shows would be broadcast.

There was an additional consideration for me. As someone who observes Shabbat, Friday night television was off-limits. So every year, I would carefully study the new schedule, hoping that my favorite programs wouldn’t be assigned a Friday evening time slot. A show scheduled for Friday night might as well have been scheduled for another planet!

And then there was the simple fact that if you missed an episode, you missed it. There was no going back to watch it on demand, no recording it for later, and no catching up on your phone during your lunch break. You could only hope that the network would show a rerun sometime later in the year. Otherwise, you had to live with the fact that you might never see that episode.

In retrospect, that limitation was also part of the fun. Television was something you anticipated. You knew that Tuesday night at 9 p.m. meant a particular show, and you made sure you were home to watch it.

And, of course, there were the cliffhangers. Television writers understood the art of keeping their audiences in suspense. An episode would end with a dramatic revelation, an unanswered question, or a character in some seemingly impossible predicament. You were left wondering what would happen next, and you knew you’d have to wait an entire week to find out. A week! Imagine that in today’s world.

The next morning at work, the water cooler conversations were often dominated by what had happened on television the previous night. Did you watch the latest episode? What did you think of the ending? What do you suppose will happen next week? It was a shared cultural experience. Everyone was watching the same shows, at the same time, and everyone had something to say about them.

I still remember the television finales of M*A*S*H* and The Mary Tyler Moore Show. They were national events. It seemed as if practically the entire country was watching. There was a sense that we were all participating in something special, something that would be remembered and talked about for years. Today, when a popular series ends, it may generate plenty of social media discussion, but it rarely seems to bring the entire country together in quite the same way.

And then there were the variety and comedy shows. I absolutely loved The Carol Burnett Show. It was a weekly ritual, filled with sketches, memorable characters, musical numbers and plenty of laughter. You didn’t need to follow a complicated storyline or remember what happened in the previous episode. You simply sat down and enjoyed yourself. I sometimes wonder why there doesn’t seem to be much of a market for that kind of television anymore. Whatever happened to the good old-fashioned comedy and variety show?

I also miss the great television miniseries. Remember Roots? Or Holocaust? These weren’t just entertainment. They were major television events that brought important historical subjects into millions of American homes. Families watched together, and the following day, people discussed what they had seen. These productions educated, challenged and sometimes profoundly moved their audiences. Television had the ability to tell important stories and introduce viewers to historical events they might otherwise never have explored.

Of course, I’m not suggesting that everything about television was better back then. Today’s technology is remarkable. The ability to watch an old favorite, discover a new series, or catch up on a missed program whenever we want is certainly convenient. And there are some terrific shows being produced today.

But I do wonder whether, in gaining so much convenience, we’ve lost something along the way.

We’ve lost the anticipation of waiting a week for the next episode. We’ve lost the excitement of a season premiere. We’ve lost the shared experience of knowing that millions of other people are watching the same program at precisely the same moment. And perhaps we’ve lost a little of the pleasure that comes from having to wait.

Maybe that’s just nostalgia talking. Perhaps I’m simply getting older and romanticizing a time that wasn’t quite as wonderful as I remember it. But I can’t help thinking that there was something special about those evenings when the television schedule dictated what we watched, rather than the other way around.

So go ahead and binge-watch your favorite series. Enjoy the convenience of streaming. Watch three or four episodes in a row if that’s what makes you happy.

I’ll probably be reading a book, writing my next column, or waiting for the next football game.

And every now and then, I’ll find myself wishing it were Thursday night at 9 p.m., with a new episode of one of my favorite shows about to begin.

Now that was television!