Ich bin ein Waltonschlosser


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I just watched an old ( well, they're all old) Waltons episode. My free satellite selection is very limited this month. I am still crying buckets, and not just about never getting to watch the Jets. The show was very moving.

I saw very few Waltons when they were popular. My mother loved it but my father could not stand it. mostly because his family was (and still is) highly Waltonesque, partly because his name was John and he particularly detested the John-boy character (he is my least favourite also).

The Stuart homestead was (still is) in the country, on top of a hill, not a mountain. They did not own the hill or hardly anything else. The house looked very like the Walton one as seen in wide shots on the TV show, the left hand wing, to be specific. That part is about the size of Chateau Stuart. Within it dwelled Dad and his seven siblings plus parents and assorted itinerant elders. Dad simply ground his teeth when the good nights and lights outs signalled the end of the show. "We didn't have to holler good night, we only had two damn bedrooms," he used to mutter.

Upside, Dad and his four brothers were very close all their lives, Sadly only one brother now remains to remember their jolly joustings about whose turn to sleep at the foot of the bed. The three sisters, though, are still thriving, glorious matriarchs, and their eternal bond is beautiful to see.

The episode I just watched is set in 1939 or 40. Erin's soldier boyfriend is killed by a grenade in a training accident at Fort Lee. I don't know if Dad ever saw this one. He himself lost all the skin off his face and left hand courtesy of a grenade in North Africa in 1942. Don't worry, he did not become a Mask, he was 18 at the time and regained all his skin and later was the handsomest man in St. Stephen, admittedly there was not much competition.

The episode also had a funny subplot with Yancey and his farm animals (Adam alert!), a wedding, preachy-time about America entering the war, and intriguing camera shots of the only pockmarked actor I ever saw on a mainstream series.It was sugar-coated, mind-strainingly earnest, obviously written by a committee of writers who are condescending to their material.

But their material transcended them. I know why this show irritated Dad so hugely, why I can't be doing with oh-s-sensitive earnest knowitall Johnboy. Things get too close for comfort.

The Waltons are not real and never were, and the writers of that show were dealing in craft and cynicism and fantasy. But my tears were real, as real as their paycheques. And I think without immodesty, the market value is equal.

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I just watched an old ( well, they're all old) Waltons episode. My free satellite selection is very limited this month. I am still crying buckets, and not just about never getting to watch the Jets. The show was very moving.

I saw very few Waltons when they were popular. My mother loved it but my father could not stand it. mostly because his family was (and still is) highly Waltonesque, partly because his name was John and he particularly detested the John-boy character (he is my least favourite also).

The Stuart homestead was (still is) in the country, on top of a hill, not a mountain. They did not own the hill or hardly anything else. The house looked very like the Walton one as seen in wide shots on the TV show, the left hand wing, to be specific. That part is about the size of maison Stuart. Within it dwelled Dad and his seven siblings plus parents and assorted itinerant elders. Dad simply ground his teeth when the good nights and lights outs signalled the end of the show. "We didn't have to holler good night, we only had two damn bedrooms," he used to mutter.

Upside, Dad and his four brothers were very close all their lives, Sadly only one brother now remains to remember their jolly joustings about whose turn to sleep at the foot of the bed. The three sisters, though, are still thriving, glorious matriarchs, and their eternal bond is beautiful to see.

The episode I just watched is set in 1939 or 40. Erin's soldier boyfriend is killed by a grenade in a training accident at Fort Lee. I don't know if Dad ever saw this one. He himself lost all the skin off his face and left hand courtesy of a grenade in North Africa in 1942. Don't worry, he did not become a Mask, he was 18 at the time and regained all his skin and later was the handsomest man in St. Stephen, admittedly there was not much competition.

The episode also had a funny subplot with Yancey and his farm animals (Adam alert!), a wedding, preachy-time about America entering the war, and intriguing camera shots of the only pockmarked actor I ever saw on a mainstream series.It was sugar-coated, mind-strainingly earnest, obviously written by a committee of writers who are condescending to their material.

But their material transcended them. I know why this show irritated Dad so hugely, why I can't be doing with oh-s-sensitive earnest knowitall Johnboy. Things get too close for comfort.

The Waltons are not real and never were, and the writers of that show were dealing in craft and cynicism and fantasy. But my tears were real, as real as their paycheques. And I think without immodesty, the market value is equal.

My favorite episode was when John Boy's mole fell into the mashed potatoes.

Ba'al Chatzaf

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My favorite episode was when John Boy's mole fell into the mashed potatoes.

Ba'al Chatzaf

Missed that one too. Mashed potatoes, ha. On Stuart's Hill the potatoes were fought for hand to hand long before they could ever be boiled, let alone mashed.

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Today Erin was fallen in love with by another soldier, but she was initially standoffish and rejecting because she does not want to give her heart, even after 24 long hours, to another handsome hillbilly in case he gets blown up too.

The Waltons are famously the Hamners, (I think it was Spencers in a movie, Spencers Mountain, also). I'd love to have interviewed the Hamner neighbours circa 1950 about the goings on of that Erin. My impression is she was very very popular with them sojer boys.

All the Waltons are very busy anticipating and justifying the imminent entry of America into the war, unlike most people in Virginia at the time to whom it came as a complete surprise.

No decent comic subplot, except the occasional proud utterance that John Boy is up north a-working. Yup in New York city. A- workin on what? A novel. What's a novel? Is it some kind of Yankee farm? -- and I had to make that part up myself.

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No decent comic subplot, except the occasional proud utterance that John Boy is up north a-working. Yup in New York city. A- workin on what? A novel. What's a novel? Is it some kind of Yankee farm? -- and I had to make that part up myself.

I think that at that point in time, John-Boy was working on getting Falcon Crest up and running.

J

P.S. Could you ever tell the difference between Jason, Ben and Jim-Bob? To me they were always just a blur of interchangeable middle sons.

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[...] I think that at that point in time, John-Boy was working on getting Falcon Crest up and running.

Yes, by that point in the series, Earl Hamner (John-Boy's real-life analogue) had moved on to other projects, and the talents left behind to steward his first highly personal creation through the last four seasons were notably mediocre.

My father and Hamner were roommates at the Cincinnati College of Music, and kept sporadically in touch. So you can imagine what was obligatory viewing at our house. And gladly so, at least until Richard Thomas left at the end of his seven-year contract, and the character left "for New York," and the show — even for the Reeds — never really recovered.

But, oh, those early years. It earned the lion's share of its emotion, many times over.

Reminds me, it's time to put in our tape of "The Homecoming: A Christmas Story" (the pilot) once again.

[...] Could you ever tell the difference between Jason, Ben and Jim-Bob? To me they were always just a blur of interchangeable middle sons.

Not swappable in those first few years, from that pilot until John-Boy went to college. They retained distinct personalities, but with seven adult and seven child roles, too many in the core cast just never got enough plot attention, out of sheer logistics.

That could have improved after the departure of John-Boy, Grandpa, Olivia, and others from the ongoing stories, but the writing staff was sub-par, as I noted. Earl tried to ameliorate this, but had far too much on his producing plate, as he lamented to my father.

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If it hadn't fallen into the mashed potatoes, I would have slapped that John Boy's mole right off his face.

Just kidding about that.

I hated this show as a kid. Not enough adult alcoholism or dysfunction in it to be realistic.

I wish I were kidding about that.

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I wish I were kidding about my tears, but not really. It is because we all know that somewhere there's a John Sr swilling moonshine in the barn, and a Grampa helping the granddaughters to get washed in the crik, and a Jim Ben beating up Jason Boy and making him swear not to tell, and moreover we know that there are more who are not doing those things than are, that makes us smirk and scorn when we are young, and cry when we are old.

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Loosely related to topic, did anyone else ever read Youngblood Hawke? I found it fascinating. I just looked at my previous post and thought, "Dayamm, I shore write a long sentence, when I don't have a smart New York editor to he'p me out with my style and all.."

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[...] I think that at that point in time, John-Boy was working on getting Falcon Crest up and running.

Yes, by that point in the series, Earl Hamner (John-Boy's real-life analogue) had moved on to other projects, and the talents left behind to steward his first highly personal creation through the last four seasons were notably mediocre.

My father and Hamner were roommates at the Cincinnati College of Music, and kept sporadically in touch. So you can imagine what was obligatory viewing at our house. And gladly so, at least until Richard Thomas left at the end of his seven-year contract, and the character left "for New York," and the show — even for the Reeds — never really recovered.

But, oh, those early years. It earned the lion's share of its emotion, many times over.

I loved the early years of the show. I was in elementary school at the time and haven't seen a rerun episode since it went off the air. I think it would be very interesting to watch the first few seasons again now and see if it still resonates with me.

Reminds me, it's time to put in our tape of "The Homecoming: A Christmas Story" (the pilot) once again.

I had seen The Homecoming: A Christmas Story as a rerun only after watching the series for a couple of years, and was therefore a bit shocked at seeing Patricia Neal as Olivia, Andrew Duggan as John, and Edgar Bergen as Grandpa.

[...] Could you ever tell the difference between Jason, Ben and Jim-Bob? To me they were always just a blur of interchangeable middle sons.

Not swappable in those first few years, from that pilot until John-Boy went to college. They retained distinct personalities, but with seven adult and seven child roles, too many in the core cast just never got enough plot attention, out of sheer logistics.

Right, I think the large cast was the reason that the middle boys were largely an interchangeable blur to me. Most of the episodes seemed to focus on the parents and grandparents, John-Boy, Mary Ellen and Erin, and the middle boys often had little more to do than appear at the dinner table.

That could have improved after the departure of John-Boy, Grandpa, Olivia, and others from the ongoing stories, but the writing staff was sub-par, as I noted. Earl tried to ameliorate this, but had far too much on his producing plate, as he lamented to my father.

Did you ever happen to watch Hamner's Apple's Way? I know that I liked the show, and watched it regularly, but now I have almost no memory of it. I wonder how I'd see it now -- were the Apples "shrugging" in a way and creating their own Atlantis, or were they more back-to-nature hippies? Were they Waldenesque, anti-modernity, or what? I don't remember.

J

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But their material transcended them. I know why this show irritated Dad so hugely, why I can't be doing with oh-s-sensitive earnest knowitall Johnboy.

I never watched the Waltons, but my Mom was quite a fan (the show also ran here in Germany). I remember her telling me once that a type like Johnboy and I would make a good couple. I didn't know what Johnboy's role was in that series (to this day I don't), but did take a look at his picture she had cut out from a magazine. With the picture, I connoted something like "the ideal future son-in-law" many moms dream of, but those ideal sons-in-law were just the types I was not interested in. :smile:

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But their material transcended them. I know why this show irritated Dad so hugely, why I can't be doing with oh-s-sensitive earnest knowitall Johnboy.

I never watched the Waltons, but my Mom was quite a fan (the show also ran here in Germany). I remember her telling me once that a type like Johnboy and I would make a good couple. I didn't know what Johnboy's role was in that series (to tMe too!his day I don't), but did take a look at his picture she had cut out from a magazine. With the picture, I connoted something like "the ideal future son-in-law" many moms dream of, but those ideal sons-in-law were just the types I was not interested in. :smile:

Me too! I think my mother's IFSIL was not a TV type however, but "Such a Nice Anglican Boy" , she was always sighing about how handsome he looked as a crucifer. He was the only other "only child" in my class, and whereas I was just spoiled, he was positively smothered by his mother. He was good-looking, smart and had a good sense of humour (he needed it). I never wanted to go out with him.

As Ma watched my character develop I think her specifications focused down to "Any Son-in-Law at all, please Lord!"

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