HAVING A BALL THIS SUMMER

LUCILLE BALL, THAT IS, AS SUPERDAD’S FAMILY DISCOVERS “I LOVE LUCY”

This summer was never intended to have this much grayscale. Nor was it intended to have this many Ricardos, or the Mertzes living upstairs. Yet, for months, our house has been a seemingly never-ending stream of vitameatavegamin, Little Ricky and Cuban Pete — because, apparently, my girls absolutely love Lucy. Headed into this summer, we had big plans: camping trips, theme parks, backyard parties and other gatherings with family and friends. Hiking and bicycling, movies and concerts in the park, a couple of big road trips. Instead, right from the start, those plans were altered thanks to the quick arrival of COVID-19. Like in most cases, we still don’t know where it came from. But the double lines on the tests were unmistakable, as were the symptoms. So, instead of summer’s expected opening notes, our family began the season with a

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week and a half spent mostly on the couch, entirely in quarantine. Fortunately, no big plans were scuttled, and symptoms remained akin to a mild bout of influenza for Mom and Dad, and even less for the kids. But nonetheless, faced with days of potential earlyonset summer boredom, their mother and I resolved to do something we had been meaning to do for some time: upgrade our kids’ historical pop culture bandwidth. We drew up a plan: Our kids, who have known far too much Disney+ and Netflix originals, knew next to nothing about any entertainment produced before their year of birth. Now, we seized the chance to introduce them to some of the “classics” of American bubblegum pop culture. For our oldest, we gave some options, mostly movies pulled from the ’80s and ’90s — which, we thought, was a good place to start. There’s still a long way to go, but I am pleased to report that if you drop certain movie references from that era, she won’t just stare at you like you’re George McFly. For our younger one, the sitcom selections were warmly received, though not with the same enthusiasm as, say, a new season of “Bluey.” But the one we never saw coming arrived at the tail end of quarantine. Just before we reentered normal life, my wife happened to start watching even older television shows, ones with considerably less color. Hearing new sounds emanating from the living room, the younglings came to investigate. First came the older, who dutifully and curiously settled into the couch, trying to make heads or tails of the black-andwhite images flickering across the screen. She was followed about a half-hour later by the little one, who loudly guffawed and said, “Why are you watching this old-fashioned show?” A highly potent blend of confusion and derision soaked her every syllable, drawing a sitcom-laugh-track style response from her mother and me. She skipped away to resume her normal little kid play activities in the other room. A work-related phone call pulled me away into another room, seeking privacy. When I returned about an hour later, what to my wondering eyes should appear, but one of the last things I ever expected to see: a vision of my two children, with their mother, entirely engrossed in an episode of “I Love Lucy.” Two months later, and all my wife needs to do is channel Desi Arnaz and call out “Luuuucy!” and they come, quickly, leaping onto the couch or skidding to a stop in front on the floor before the television, smiling and giggling, gasping or even shouting in grinning disbelief at the latest nonsensical escapades and onscreen antics of those silly Ricardos and their friends. The real disbelief is mine, though. If you had asked me to curate a list of old-timey shows my little ones would take a shine to — with all respect to the comedic brilliance of Lucille Ball and the Latin jazz chops of ol’ Desi — I would have given out a loud Ricky Ricardo belly laugh (if you don’t know, Google it) at the thought that my kids would ever love Lucy. And yet, you see, they now do. So, best-laid plans aside, the question arises: Is this a one-hit wonder, a one-off, a random freak occurrence? Or will more classic TV characters, particularly strong female leads (Jeannie or Samantha, perhaps?) soon join us in the living room? Will our usual binge-watching choices soon resemble a run of MeTV? (Or “Nick at Night.” If you know, you know.) Whatever the results, color me intrigued as we all tune in next time for more surprises and laughs, as we join our kids on their first real trip down memory lane.

 Jonathan Bilyk writes about the triumphs and travails of being a modern-day dad who legitimately enjoys time with his family, while tolerating a dog that seems to adore him. He also doesn’t really like the moniker “Superdad” because it makes it sound like he wants to wear his undergarments on the outside of his pants. (Also, the cape remains on back order.)