As a child of the 1970s and 1980s, pop culture shaped a lot
of who I am. Television programs ruled my schedule and the characters,
storylines, and props associated with those shows were part of the fabric of my
youth.
Last fall my husband and I took our children to Washington,
D.C. In addition to monument gazing and Capitol touring, we spent a ton of time
in the Smithsonian Institute museums. Each building held treasures to behold,
but the National Museum of American History and the American Stories exhibition
with its salute to pop culture dazzled me and the young girl who still lurks
within me.
At the time we saw Dorothy’s ruby slippers from the 1939
classic movie The Wizard of Oz.
In
the past at that museum I’ve seen Fonzie’s iconic leather jacket from the
nostalgic television hit Happy Days,
and the familiar chair that acerbic Archie Bunker sat in for years on the
ground-breaking All in the Family.
These items presented behind glass delight and enthrall me, then as well as
now.
It may seem silly, but clearly the Smithsonian curators recognize
the power of movies’ and television’s power to unite and offer a celebrated
unity. What keeps us cohesive in this ever divisive world is the creative art
form offered in motion pictures and television’s most popular series.
Perhaps seeing Jeannie’s genie bottle, Hawkeye Pierce’s
combat boots, or Olivia Newton-John’s black satin pants from Grease offer the
throngs of people who shuffle through the museum a momentary feeling of
nostalgia or even happiness.
As newer generations start their pilgrimage to the nation’s
capital and file through the museums’ halls, the displays reflect more artifacts
from a more recent age mixed with the relics of the past.
The vast landscape that television has become has diluted
the shared and collective recognition of societal images. No longer does a
program’s season or series finale command audiences to tune in in real time or
at all.
In the summer of 1980 the topic was, “Who shot JR (Ewing)?” from the
popular nighttime soap opera Dallas.
On the last day of February 1983, a record number of Americans watched the
final episode of the 11 season epic television show M*A*S*H.
Today a handful of people tune in to see who The Bachelor gives his final rose or
what zombie killed what series regular on The
Walking Dead, but that is nowhere near as powerful or connecting as what
used to be on the television landscape.
The times have changed, but the power of nostalgia for some
of us is stronger than ever. And, one day, the youth of today will cram into
the Smithsonian to gander at what their youthful images were. I hope it is as
much as an impact for them as it is for me.
If you were a museum curator for a popular culture exhibition, what popular artifacts would you include from your youth?
