Fess Parker died yesterday. He was a successful real estate developer and winery owner. But to millions of us Baby Boomers who were at our most impressionable age in the 1950s, he will always be the coonskin-cap-wearing Davey Crockett.
The article in the paper this morning mentioned "The Ballad of Davey Crockett," then reminded us of the words: "...born on a mountain top in Tennessee..." in parentheses. That's all it took. The tune that lay dormant in my brain for about a thousand years leapt up and started playing over and over again. (It just got you, too, didn't it? You're welcome.) I just hope it doesn't have as long a run, this time.
Fess Parker portrayed the Disney version of Davey Crockett as tall and straight, kindly and righteous. We had a lot of those dads in our 1950s TV shows. We all wanted to have a dad like that, and about one in 25 kids actually did. (According to a very accurate study done by a really observant 10-year-old.)
TV gave us Pa Walton and Little House on the Prairie in the 1970s, but it's been kind of downhill since then. Instead of Disney fantasy dads, we have gritty reality shows, Ozzie Osborne fumbling around his house, and evening soaps about dysfunctional cops and lawyers barely able to cope with their personal lives. The closest thing to a kindly, smart dad we have now is Ed O' Neill (formerly of Married With Children) as patriarch of a diverse extended family in Modern Family. He portrays a good guy doing his best despite his human foibles. No coonskin cap and country homilies there.
It's a good thing. Women are no longer portrayed as two-dimensional, pie-baking nurturers, and men don't have to play infallible, gentle fixers-of-all problems. We can all breathe a sigh of relief.
That is not to say we can't indulge in a little nostalgia for our fantasy Disney parents. It was kind of nice to believe life's problems could be solved with some country wisdom and a tramp in the woods. (No, not that kind of tramp. The one where you tramp through the forest with big boots, feeling wild and free.)
So long, Fess Parker. Thanks for the great memories--and all the coonskin caps!
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3 comments:
Talk about old memories. I'm a recent visitor to your blog and I had no idea just how old I really am 'til you mentioned Davy Crockett. (Thanks a lot.) That tune is repeating in my brain as I write. The TV series Father Knows Best is one I remember as just too good to be true. Aside from Otis Campbell on the Andy Griffith Show, there were no drunks on old TV and the only person to wreak havoc was Ernest T. Bass who had a penchant for throwing rocks. I like today's television with all of its grittiness because it does not portray perfect life. 50's Television was misleading. Donna Reed was impeccably dressed every day - complete with jewels and heels. That was her at-home attire while mending socks and baking pies. Gimme a break. I also remember an episode of I Love Lucy in which Ricky was spanking his wife. It would have made for great TV if Lucy had hit him back.
I guess I'm not a fan of nostalgia since I grew up and realized I'd been hoodwinked by Hollywood.
Thanks for stopping in, Diana. Did you miss the paragraph that started "It's a good thing..."?
And do take a peek at "Modern Family" if you get a chance. Good chuckles.
Whether or not we were hoodwinked by Hollywood, the 50s are ingrained in our psyches, for good or ill. Losing something, even if it is a negative thing, leaves a whole, just like when I divorced my first husband. I starts that nostalgia thing going, the "wish I had" or "too bad I did that" comes rushing to the fore. More than anyone else in Hollywood, I blame Walt Disney and his total rejection of "real" life for my wounded self image, but I still liked Davey Crockett, King of the Wild Frontier. And, yes, that stupid song. Geez!
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