Dig: It’s Oct. 29, 1976. It’s a Friday night, just a week since your10th birthday, and Halloween is in just two days. If you, too, grew up Gen-X, you know what a potent brew this alignment presents. Enter into it, the most cataclysmic mix of all: a TV Halloween special. Starring your preteen crush, Paul Lynde. And Betty White. Yes, the immortal Betty White. And: Florence Henderson, Billy Barty, beloved character actor and activist for people with dwarfism; and, unbilled and quite unexpectedly, Donnie and Marie Osmond.
Two of your favorite witches, Margaret Hamilton and Witchie Poo, a denizen of the Sid and Marty Krofft universe, played by Billie Hays, gleefully unconcerned about healing and holistic health, and instead all about mind-wrecking potions, and sarcastic jokes that put even Paul Lynde to the test, punctuated by shrill cackles.
So, here you already have a show with a pantheon of the decade’s pop culture luminaries, and just when it seems like it can’t get better, it does. In a plume of smoke, fire and noise, a band descends to the stage. Mind, not just any band: in full makeup, platform boots and shooting flames, it’s KISS, blasting out “Detroit Rock City,” albeit lip synched. (Entertainment value notwithstanding, It’s a dark song, the true story of an unnamed, young motorist who dies after colliding with a truck on the way to a KISS concert, and reminiscent of the 1950s ballads lamenting teens in fatal road crashes.)
Most of which, at age 10, is beyond your wit and understanding. The entire spectacle manages to intimidate, enthrall, and stay with you for the decades to come.
I don’t think I quite grasped it then. But, in that moment, an important truth emerged, with I appreciated more with time’s passing: some aspects of life should be lived with moderation. Don’t eat too much sugary or fatty food, and don’t dwell overly long on hurts from bad relationships, or friendships that let you down.