I miss the TV dads – and my own too

You know them. They were in your living room and part of your family conversations every night, especially during those 60-second breaks.

Before America was siloed into warring tribes by ratings-hungry cable TV and, later, by click-hungry internet sites, these men defined fatherhood for two generations. They were uncool before uncool was cool.

I’m aware this isn’t Fathers Day, other than in a specific religious sense. But Christmas always brings back family memories for me, particularly of my dad, which gets me thinking about the role of dads everywhere.

You’ll have your own favorite dads, but here are mine, in no particular order. Feel free to add and subtract.

Ben Cartwright, of Bonanza

Ben came west, and founded the Ponderosa Ranch. He married and buried three women who gave him three sons. He was a strong and kind man back in the days when we thought that was a good thing.

Each episode of the show was a morality play, as much of television was back in the days when we had morality. A recurrent theme was the need for men to man-up. Ben taught that lesson many times, usually by example. And sometimes it meant something different than viewers initially assumed.

Frasier Crane, in Frasier

I suppose experts in comedy would say that a fussy, pretentious, good-hearted psychiatrist is easy material (Bob Newhart, anyone?) but Kelsey Grammer is so darned good as a TV over-actor (and also as a just-right actor on the Shakespearean stage) that he pulls it off.

Best. TV Comedy. Ever.

Andy Taylor, of The Andy Griffith Show

I always wanted to dislike Sheriff Taylor (played by Andy Griffith) because the show was just so hokey. But Griffith was an accomplished actor, the writing was pretty good, and so I mostly failed.

I succeeded much better with Barney Fife. Bumbling incompetence with handguns does not amuse me.

Ward Cleaver, of Leave it to Beaver

Not really. Just seeing if you’re paying attention. I couldn’t – and still can’t – get past the fact that this dude calls his young son “The Beaver.” What’s up with that?

Tony Soprano, of The Sopranos

This show was pretty edgy. Tony led a life of crime, but, out of love, he desperately wanted to guide his family into something legitimate. He ever got a therapist!

If only Joe Biden had been watching.

Jed Clampett, of The Beverly Hillbillies

The hat. This one is all about the hat. I wanted the hat. Well, the hat and the jalopy. Well, the hat, the jalopy and Elly May.

Ricki Ricardo, in I Love Lucy

I never liked Lucille Ball, but to this day it’s remarkable that her husband Ricki was presented as a charismatic Latin immigrant bandleader married to red-headed Lucille.

You couldn’t do that today, because Ricki was the bad kind of immigrant – legal, Cuban and probably Republican.

Jim Anderson, in Father Knows Best

This is another one that could not be presented today. Maybe you could get away with “Birthing Parent Has a Truth That Works For Them.”

Atticus Finch, in To Kill a Mockingbird

OK, this was a movie, not a TV show. And, OK, I offer it up mainly to show off my movie chops. But Atticus Finch (played by Gregory Peck in his finest role) sets the standard for strength and courage in explaining and exemplifying the nuances of both to his young daughter. Ben Cartwright would be proud. The writing isn’t bad either.

That’s my list from the past. Today, I look for the next generation of fathers in the entertainment media. Two come to mind.

One is Joe Biden, who is not an entertainer strictly speaking but that’s about all he’s good for anymore.

Joe does not make my list of fathers I admire most.

Another is Deion Sanders. I don’t know Prime, and don’t pretend to understand him or relate to him. But one thing is clear: He holds his sons to very high standards of professional (yes, professional) achievement.

But where’s Ben Cartwright, for God’s sake? Where’s Sheriff Taylor? We can’t even get our hands on a good-father mobster like Tony Soprano.

When I was young, I had a father who was quirky (OK, that’s an understatement) but full of decency. Sure, there were things he simply was not capable of. But maybe that had something to do with his own father dying in the depths of the Great Depression when Dad was five. Maybe it had to do with flunking the 6^th grade twice due to dyslexia (which went under the medical term “stupidity” at the time). Maybe it had to do with dropping out of school in the 8^th grade to support his widowed mother, the turmoil of joining the army underaged, earning his GED, and somehow working his way into the middle class to support a family of six in an 800 square foot house.

I never heard the man say “I love you” to anyone, including my mother. But I was certain this unusual person did love me, just as Sheriff Taylor loved lovable Opie and Ben loved unlovable Adam. That’s how dads were. Television said so.

In today’s world, there isn’t enough of that certainty. The more our world of global information fragments, the less our moral compasses point in the same direction.