Come Saturday Morning

When we were kids, we rarely got to do normal Saturday morning activities because we had to go to shul.

Five times a week we had to go to shul, but Saturday mornings were the most painful.  The services were interminably long and conducted almost entirely in Hebrew.  Even worse, in those days women and girls were not allowed to participate.  At all.  Unless you count setting out the herring and schnapps for kiddish.

So, while the goyishe kids were doing goyishe things like playing sports and —

Actually, we did not know how the goyim spent their time besides playing sports and trimming trees.  Nor did we know why they had to trim trees that had been chopped down dead and could not possibly grow any wayward branches.  Anyway, while we were stuck in shul, we were sure the goyim were having all kinds of fun.

We did know one thing the goyim got to do on Saturday mornings.  They got to watch cartoons.  Hours and hours of cartoons.  And word on the street was that these Saturday morning cartoons were sooo much better than the “classics” rerun ad infinitum weekday afternoons.  Bugs Bunny?  Please.

Back in such ancient times, there were no VCRs, much less DVRs or TV web sites, so the only way to see these shows was to be at home on Saturday morning.  Unfortunately, there were only two reliable excuses for missing shul: vomit and blizzard.  Alas, these two events were as unlikely as they were undesirable.

Truthfully, we could do without Fat Albert and Scooby-Doo.  My mother had already conditioned us to abhor all human adipose and adore only small dogs.

No, it was The Jackson 5 we were dying to see!  Of course, Michael danced even better in real life than in cartoon life, but he was darling either way and certainly this girl’s pre-teen dream!

So it turns out the complete series of animated Jackson 5 videos is now available by DVD. But somehow it doesn’t interest me.

When the show premiered in 1971, my demographic profile made me the ideal target audience.  Today, not so much.  And it’s kind of sad to see Michael as an innocent youngster now that we know the unfortunate details of his adult life.  Besides, the forbidden fruits of childhood, mostly they don’t age so well.  SpaghettiOs?  Panty hose?  Tiny nose?  No!  No!  No!

Maybe it’s best we leave the past in its place.  Still, just a little taste, it wouldn’t hurt…

Oh, darling, give me more chance!  Oh, Michael, you and me both.

© 2016 Jaclyn Schrier. All rights reserved.

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