Tonight on TNT is the premiere of the new Dallas. Not sure what to call it: Dallas: The Next Generation? Dallas: Again!? Regardless, it's the return of the classic CBS series that originally aired during the 1970s, '80s and '90s. Cynically, I want to brush it off by remarking that it's an obvious commercial ploy to capitalize on a well-established TV brand that seeks to prey on folks' nostalgia. But, dear reader, I am willing to admit a great weakness to such nostalgia, and will most likely tune-in to at least the season premiere, if not the entire 10-episode-season.
Talking of Dallas always puts me in a wistful mood, of good times as a kid that will never come again, of family members no longer with us, of languid Saturday nights in front of the TV at my grandmother Callie Mae's house. That is where I remember watching Dallas. Honestly, I'm not sure if mom and dad were ever regular viewers, but if we were at grandma's on a Friday night, the TV was on CBS, and we would often sit in the living room and catch the shows that were on.
Friday nights were, for quite some time, The Dukes of Hazzard, Dallas and Falcon Crest. Dad seemed to really enjoy the antics of Boss Hogg and his bumbling policeman sidekick, Rosco P. Coltrane, on Hazzard. With Dallas, I remember the adults in the room emitting audible gasps the night that Pam found Bobby in the shower in the ninth season closer (May of 1986). Other nights of the week at grandma's, we would watch Alice, with Flo and her "kiss my grits!" trademark sassy line. Still other nights, it would be the soapy goings-on of Knots Landing.
Dad and grandma are gone now. Not sure if mom even knows there's a new version of Dallas about to air. As stated earlier, I'm going to try and give the season opener a go. But it's already been a nice trip down nostalgia lane, seeing the promos with J.R. and Bobby, the South Fork ranch, and whistling the theme tune. It's brought back some nice memories.