Episode 18: TV Guide
Like most children, I grew up with television. It was not a major source of entertainment in our house in the 1960s and 70s in the Soviet Union, but it was present, and I remember watching movies and cartoons. The movies were a mix of predictably patriotic dramas, sometimes set during the October Revolution, and sometimes set during World War II, in which young people often performed heroic deeds in support of the Red Army, and family dramas in which people struggled with conflict and tragedy. I remember one movie, titled, I think, “Stepmother,” which centered on a young girl’s conflict with her father’s new wife, after the death of her mother. Not a Cinderella story, this movie focused on the relationship between the girl and the woman, as they faced hardship and the eventual tragedy of the death of the father/husband. I remember the last scene of the movie still, as, after his death, the stepmother embraces her husband’s daughter in the pouring rain, proclaiming tearfully that the girl is hers, her daughter, and always will be. It was dramatic and touching. There were other types of movies, but very few were meant for children, so I didn’t bother with them.
I did watch animated shows and serialized cartoons. There were animated shows based on Russian and other fairy tales and folk tales. For example, there was an animated version of the “Bremen Town Musicians.” I still remember the theme song from this film, all about how the musicians travel around, following their calling to bring laughter and joy to everyone, and how they would never trade their freedom for life in a palace.
But my favorite was a series of cartoons that featured a clever rabbit who was constantly escaping the hungry wolf. The series was called, “Nu Pogodi!”, which translates to “Just You Wait!” which is what the wolf shouts at the end of each misadventure, as he’s being carted off to jail or somewhere else far away, and the rabbit continues on his merry way. The resemblance to Bugs Bunny cartoons is obvious, though I have no idea whether “Nu Pogodi!” was inspired by or modeled on the Warner Brothers cartoon, or whether the resemblance is coincidental.
As new immigrants, my family watched a lot of television! TV was a kind of lifeline, an indirect conduit to American culture, the English language, and life in the U.S. in general. TV taught us about all the things that were available to us now, that we could never have dreamt of before. When we had lived in the Soviet Union, my grandfather had been the manager of a large department store, and because of his job we had luxuries, such as clothes, shoes, soap, shampoo, and toilet paper, that other families stood in line to try to buy, with no guarantee of success. We had plenty of food, though fruits and vegetables were often unavailable. In the Soviet Union the ability to obtain basic things often depended on “blat,” a corrupt system of favors, kickbacks, and black market deals. If you had the connections to use blat, you could get things you needed. If you didn’t, you were out of luck. My family had the connections, so we were able to get things.
But even with connections, my grandfather’s job, and blat, when we needed bread and butter, and my mother would send me down the street to buy both, I would sometimes come back with one but not the other, and sometimes with neither. And she was never surprised when I came in and said, “They didn’t have butter today.” Stores frequently simply didn’t have things. For those who have never seen this phenomenon, the movie “Moscow on the Hudson” has a very realistic representation. In the clip below, at the 2:08 mark, there’s a scene of people standing in line for toilet paper, and this is neither an exaggeration, nor melodrama. I recommend “Moscow on the Hudson” for anyone who’s interested in understanding Soviet immigrants, especially in the 1980s. Plus, Robin Williams is, as always, incredible!
I have a vivid memory of the first time my parents and I went to our local IGA store in Louisville. It wasn’t a huge superstore, just a regular grocery store. But walking into it was an overwhelming experience. So many isles with stuff in boxes and jars and bottles and other containers! We had no idea what all of these things were. I remember looking at the bread isle and just being so confused by the number and variety of plastic bags filled with sliced bread on the shelves. Why were there six different kinds of sliced white bread? Why so many different kinds of rolls and buns, and breads I couldn’t even identify? In the dairy section, my mom struggled to understand the various butters and margarines. What was the difference between IGA butter and other butters? Why were there so many different kinds of yogurt? And the cheeses! Sliced, brick, shredded, and cream, and again why so many different kinds? And what on earth was “processed cheese food” in slices and in a spray can? Did that mean the other kinds of cheese were not food, since this was the only one labeled “food?” Or maybe the word processed meant this was food, but not actually cheese. It was all just mind boggling.
I’m sure we bought some groceries that day, but I don’t remember which. I do remember the sheer wonder we all felt at the bounty and variety of food, all available at just about any time of day, no blat or standing in line needed, other than a quick few minutes at the cash register. Just walk in, pick what you want, pay at the register, and off you go! But how were we to know which foods to buy with all that variety? And for that matter, how were we to know about the other necessities that were so readily available, like toilet paper, soap, toothpaste, shampoo, and cleaning products?
So, we watched tv to learn which coffee was the best, which bread was the fluffiest, and which cereal was the best part of a “complete, balanced breakfast.” It was an education in language (what, exactly is “balanced” when it comes to breakfast?), music (some of those jingles are still stuck in my head!), slogans (Don’t squeeze the Charmin!), and packaging (the iconic Mrs. Butterworth’s bottle, the green giant on the bags of frozen vegetables). We watched tv, not only to be entertained, but also to learn how people lived in this new country, how they talked to each other, how they worked, how they dealt with problems, and how they celebrated. We watched sit coms, dramas, variety shows, and game shows, and with the aid of the dizzying, color-filled screen we acclimated to life in the U.S., until we no longer felt quite so much like outsiders, until we understood why there were so many different types of coffee, until we could walk into our local IGA and make easy decisions about which cheese, bread, and milk to buy.
My favorite show in those first couple years in the U.S. was “Welcome Back, Kotter,” a sit-com about a teacher attempting to teach a classroom of high school misfits, known as “The Sweathogs.” Gabe Kaplan was wonderfully warm if a bit bumbly as the titular Gabe Kotter, and the young men portraying The Sweathogs were brilliant, from Ron Pallilo as the sweet, neurotic Arnold Horshak, to Robert Hegyes as tough but tender Juan Epstein (a Puerto Rican Jew, which seemed very strange back then), Lawrence Hilton-Jacobs as the smooth and athletic Freddie “Boom-Boom” Washington, and the rising star John Travolta as dimwitted heartthrob Vinnie Barbarino. I’m not entirely sure why I loved that show so much. Maybe I related to how “other” these characters were. Maybe it was their outrageous but ultimately benign behavior that would have never flown in any school I’d had any experience with to that point. Maybe it was how very “all for one and one for all” they were, supporting each other through anything and everything. It was probably all of that and more. Plus, there’s that theme song! I can still sing it, word for word!
