Our fellow GC'er Steve Hoffsteder's new Observational Humor is out this week (available at
www.collegehumor.com). This weeks installment had me rolling on the floor at work. I am sure it will do the same to you. Especially if you have ever even seen the show.
Enjoy all. Steve, again, you have outdone yourself.
When Worms Have Ears
By Steve Hofstetter
I grew up in New York in the early '90s. And like almost anyone else anywhere, when I got home from school, I watched TV. I watched a lot of TV. Mainly, I watched Saved By the Bell.
This was when the WB was still WPIX--the home of the early '80s Harrison Ford movies and Sunday PBAs. I didn't watch channel nine, mainly because Kate and Allie reruns weren't my style. And this was Fox in the days before World's Blankiest Blank specials. By 5:00, the news was on all the good channels, so we were left with no choice. And the Channel 11 programming whizzes, after canning both Charles in Charge's new and old families, hit on something--take NBC's horrible attempt at a high school comedy and show it twice a day. And it worked.
"When I wake up in the morning, my alarm gives out a warning, I don't think I'll ever make it on time. By the time I grab my books and I give myself a look, I'm at the corner just in time to see the BUS FLY BY!" And I sing along. We all sang along.
At some point during every episode, you'd get enough sense to think, "Why the hell am I watching this?" But you couldn't turn it off. After just a few minutes, you were sucked in by the sheer stupidity of the plots, the complete absurdity of the stereotypes, or the fact that Kelly always wore something skimpy. No one knows why they watched it, yet it seems everybody did. No one cared how bad it was.
I admit I know almost every episode by heart (granted half of them use the same recycled lines, making each episode a mere half-hour string of tired clichÈs), but I also readily declare my disgust at the glaring inconsistencies of the show. No matter how low-budget a project may be, it still needs some reality.
Do you remember when Bayside was a junior high school in Indiana? Remarkably, it quickly became a Southern California high school, in the same building with the same principal and most of the same students.
Zack should be in jail. At the very least, he's committed grand theft auto, kidnapping, forgery, mail fraud, and destruction of public property, yet Mr. Belding seems to think detention is the answer. How obviously effective.
Family members only exist for one or two episodes. Like Mr.Belding's hipper, younger brother, Rod. Slater's only friend and pet chameleon, Arty. Screech's prize beagle, Hounddog. Kelly's infant brother, Billy, whom her parents allow her to take to school and whom Zack promptly loses. Jessie's illegitimate half-brother from New York, Eric. Tori. The well-dressed homeless girl that Zack met in the mall, Laura. Slater's tomboy-turned-bombshell sister, JD. Kelly's love-crazed sister, Jamie, who had it bad for Nitro from Teen Line (didn't Kelly only have brothers?). Lisa's mother. Lisa's father. Veronica, Jughead, Dilton Ö You get the point.
Bayside can afford a football team, a track team, a cheerleading squad, oil rigs, an auto shop with a real car the gang can take apart, a water polo team, a wrestling team, a radio station, and a restaurant, but has only five teachers. Mr. Tuttle, for example, has taught drivers ed, music, art, and world history.
Mr. Belding has a secretary he keeps paging, yet the door to his office opens directly into the hallway. The office is apparently never locked either, because those wacky kids always seem to be switching the files. And a single three-drawer file cabinet holds all the school's records, which is probably possible, because the only other students are Moose, the twins, Wendy the fat girl, Homecoming finalist Muffin Sangria, and six nerds. The rest of the school consists of one hallway, two locker rooms, two bathrooms, a gym, a boiler room, the radio station, two classrooms, and a staircase leading to a non-existent second floor.
The show is a half hour of inane crap, but there have been dozens of imitations since then that just haven't caught on. Was it how ridiculous everything was? Was it how easy school seemed? Was it the muscle-bound Latino with a brillo-pad haircut? Or maybe Max's magic drew us in so completely that we're still fondly reminiscing a decade later.
Sometimes, class gets a little tough. Papers pile up, exams approach, and that annoying kid in the front row just won't shut up. And when that all comes to a head, it's nice to know that it's all right because we are, have been, and always will be saved by the bell. Doo Doo Doo Doo Doo ... Chikaboom.
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