Oh, Rob

Sometimes nostalgia can be taken too far.

Tonight CBS is airing a reunion of the old Dick Van Dyke Show. I don't plan to watch. Some things - some places - ought to be immune from visits 40 years later so that they remain large, perfect, and treasured in our memories.

New Rochelle, New York, is one such place. While New Rochelle certainly exists on the map, it will forever be the imaginary home of Rob and Laura Petrie. Black and white, twin beds, and all.

When I was young we moved around a bit during my formative years. But every week I could suspend disbelief for 30 minutes and get pleasure from that invented world. The make-believe TV worlds that bring us the greatest pleasure live on in our memories like Camelot or Bedford Falls long after they have departed from the prime time air waves.

As a kid, I watched the shows at night, then watched and rewatched them as reruns. Occasionally I'll find an episode while cable surfing. I can jump into an episode halfway through, and even though it's been since the '60s, I can still recall dialog word for word.

My brainpan continues to be clogged with Dick Van Dyke trivia. "What is the name of Sally Rogers's cat?" (Mr. Henderson) "What is Richie's middle name? (Rosebud - Robert Oscar Sam Edward Benjamin Ulysses David) "What is Buddy's wife's name?" (Pickles)

I usually don't like TV reunions. They can't capture past greatness. Cheap nostalgia comes with a price.

Why is CBS messing with our memories?
K-