Holy sexagenarian, Batman — we just turned 60!

By Gary Bennett

Batman and Robin (Wikimedia Commons)

This article appears in the January 29, 2026 edition of Frederick News-Post’s “72 Hours” entertainment magazine.

Picture this: Crooks have just pilfered the largest diamond in the world from the Gotham City Museum of Fine Jewelry, leaving stunned watchmen and slips of paper with confounding riddles behind. Solve the riddles and you will find the fiends! Clearly outclassed — alas, there’s really no reason to even try — Police Commissioner Gordon and Chief of Police O’Hara look skyward and grimly activate the bat signal. A powerful beam of light depicting the majestic and unmistakable winged symbol of justice lights up the night sky. It is only a matter of time before the dashing, tricked-out Batmobile is screeching down the highway, depositing Batman and Robin at police HQ for a confab with the overmatched police professionals.

The “Batman” TV series, which ran for 120 episodes between 1966 and 1968, debuted 60 years ago on ABC this month. Nearly every episode began the way I described — an outrageous caper pulled off by an oddball villain, befuddled police, and the caped crusaders, duly notified, speeding to the rescue. It was a twice-weekly series, airing on two consecutive nights — Wednesday and Thursday — at 7:30 pm.

As a kid of the ‘60s, I can tell you there was nothing quite like it. I watched “Batman” in first run but, like Star Trek, reruns kicked in right away so it seemed like it was always on. Today, the original “Batman” series airs on MeTV on Saturdays and the entire 120-episode series is available on DVD at major retailers.

Joker (Wikimedia Commons)

The first episode of the week always left the dynamic duo teetering on the verge of a harrowing death from the hands of an outrageous villain. Episode two featured their miraculous escape and the comeuppance of the villain. That was the formula — every time — and we loved it. Executive producer William Dozier, who doubled as the show’s overly-excited narrator, always implored us to return the next night at the “same bat time, same bat channel.”

“Batman” appealed to kids for the nonstop action, colorful villains and the heroic deeds of the “dynamin duo,” especially the comically stoic Adam West as Batman (“Thank you, citizen.”) It eventually appealed to adults, too, because of its sly humor, scientific basis (the bat cave was filled with technical wonders, including the first computer any of us had ever seen) and the witty, campy presentation. I vividly remember watching “Batman” with my dad, who chuckled at the exaggerated cliches, laid on thick.

It didn’t take long before the show became an unlikely hit and full-blown national phenomenon. Like “Hogan’s Heroes” and several other escapist comedies before it, like “Bewitched,” “I Dream of Jeannie,” “The Munsters” and “The Addams Family,” it came along at just the right time, providing a twice-weekly break for our war-weary and strife-riddled country in the mid ‘60s.

Based on the comic book by Bob Kane and Bill Finger and the old Batman radio show, “Batman” was the first depiction of the “caped crusaders” on screen. It led to an animated series and the ultra-successful “Batman” movie franchise we know today.

“Batman” starred Hollywood veteran Adam West as Batman and 19-year-old Burt Ward as Robin, the Boy Wonder. The regular cast was rounded out by Neil Hamilton as deadpan Commissioner Gordon, Stafford Repp as good-humored Chief O’Hara, and Alan Napier as Alfred, the trusted butler to both Batman and Bruce Wayne. Chief writer Lorenzo Semple won a critic’s choice award for his writing on “Batman,” and the show won several Emmys during its run, mostly for technical achievement.

Catwoman (Wikimedia Commons)

Adam West was a handsome, adequately-built and believable action hero in the mold of George Reeves as Superman. He played Batman as humble, corny, dead pan and not too self-aware. Later in life, West let on how difficult it was to play Batman that way, but he embraced it. Like many actors indelibly linked to their character, West was type cast as Batman and had difficulty landing other roles. In retirement, he enjoyed hamming it up at conventions and personal appearances for adoring fans. Today, viewers may know him as the voice of Quahog mayor Adam West in Family Guy. West died in 2017 at age 88.

Newcomer Burt Ward brought a pinch of innocence, earnestness and awkwardness to the series as Robin. Many times, Batman had to rescue him from dire circumstances that anyone else could clearly see coming. His excitable and ever-changing catchphrase beginning with “holy” and ending with a description of the predicament they faced (“Holy hot candle wax, Batman!) were on the lips of adolescents everywhere. Ward is now 81 years old and living in Los Angeles.

“Batman” worked well because it didn’t take itself too seriously, staying faithful to its comic book roots. It specialized in highly choreographed fight sequences, complete with sound effects superimposed on the screen (“POW,” “BAM,” “SPLAT,” “CLANK,” “KAPOW”), a pulsating one-word theme song (“na na na na na na na na, Batman!”) and, most ridiculous of all, absurdly intricate death scenes that never quite finished off the caped crusaders.

Naturally, villains could never bring themselves to just shoot Batman and Robin, even when they had the chance. They had to devise over-the-top death sequences befitting their diabolical reputations. Most times, they were not even in attendance for the dirty deed.

Penguin (Wikimedia Commons)

My favorite almost-death scene saw the dynamic duo placed into a giant Frosty Freezie machine by the despicable Mr. Freeze, almost turning them into fruity popsicles. Fortunately, Batman realizes the heat exhaust from the machine could melt them out. Using a handy gadget from his utility belt, which the villains always left in place, he was able to turn the exhaust onto Robin and himself for easy melting.

Kids of the ’60 waited with bated breath each week to see which villain would show up. That was a big part of the fun. Hollywood’s biggest names clamored to make a “guest villain” appearance. It got so bad by season three that the caped crusaders had to battle two or three dastardly villains who teamed up to do away with the “caped creeps” once and for all. The list included the big four: a cackling Cesar Romero as Joker, wiry Frank Gorshin as Riddler, waddling and quacking Burgess Meredith (of Rocky fame) as Penguin and sexy Julie Newmar and later Ertha Kitt as Catwoman (Perrrrrrrfect casting!). When any one of those stalwarts turned up, you knew the caped crusaders were really in for it.

Other villains included Milton Berle as Louie the Lilac, Ethel Merman as Lola Lasagne, David Wayne as Mad Hatter, Vincent Price as Egghead, Victor Buono as King Tut, Maurice Evans as Puzzler, Cliff Robertson as Shame (a takeoff on the cowboy character Shane), Dina Merrill as Calamity Jan, Art Carney as Archer and even famed film director Otto Preminger as the mysterious Mr. Freeze.

Near the end of the third season, ratings began to drop as the premise wore off. ABC canceled the show, but NBC agreed to pick it up. But before it could, hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of Batman sets were mistakenly destroyed. Rather than rebuild the sets, NBC dropped the project. It took 20 years, but the bat rose again, this time in the form of an ultra-successful major motion picture starring Michael Keaton as Batman and Jack Nicholson as the Joker. Numerous movies later, it is still going strong.

Riddler (Wikimedia Commons)

Gary Bennett is a longtime Frederick resident who spends his time hiking, biking, volunteering and providing childcare for grandchildren. He is married and retired from his career as a nonprofit marketing executive.

Comedian Colin Mochrie in conversation ahead of his show in Frederick

By Gary Bennett

Colin Mochrie and Brad Sherwood, 2024.

Thus article appears in the June 12, 2025 issue of Frederick News-Post’s “72 Hours” entertainment magazine.

Colin Mochrie, of “Whose Line Is It Anyway” fame, has made a career of making stuff up for laughs and couldn’t be prouder of it. He is one of those lucky ones who found his niche and stuck with it.

Mochrie and his buddy Brad Sherwood, also from “Whose Line,” will bring their improv comedy show “Asking for Trouble” to the Weinberg Center for the Arts at 7:30 p.m. June 15.

My wife and I caught their hilarious improv show in Hagerstown a few years ago, called “Scared Scriptless,” and just about split our sides laughing.

His everyman look and befuddled, dry sense of humor has made him a fan favorite for years. “Whose Line” is no longer in production, but its 17-year run over two incarnations in America makes it one of the longest running and best-known comedy shows ever. Mochrie not only starred in the two American versions (1998 to 2006 with Drew Carey on ABC and 2013 to 2022 with Aisha Tyler on the CW), he even starred in the British version from 1991 to 1998.

I spoke with Mochrie by phone in May to talk about his life, his career and the upcoming show in Frederick.

You were born in Scotland, south of Glasgow. Do you have any memories of Scotland? You emigrated when you were very young.

Yes, my parents and I would go back every summer to visit my grandparents, so I don’t have my earliest memories of Scotland but certainly going back there and, of course, as an adult going back there for the Edinburgh Festival and other things, I have those memories.

Why did you and your parents move to Canada?

I think my dad was one of those rare Scottish people who thought he could do better elsewhere. He had friends who had moved to Canada, so he moved my mom, brother and me, and yeah, it certainly worked out well for all of us.

First it was Vancouver, I believe, and then you moved to Toronto?

We started in Montreal, which was an odd choice — none of us spoke French, and nobody could understand our brogue. Then I ended up in Vancouver and then moved to Toronto, where I am now.

Why did you move to Toronto?

It was right after Expo ‘86 in Vancouver, and I sort of felt that I had done all I could at that point. I got hired for the Second City comedy troupe in Toronto by the woman who later became my wife. So it was a good move.

I am interested in the Theatresports league you played at in Vancouver. What exactly is that?

That’s where it all started for me. It was a strangely named theater. One of the local owners quite generously said, “You can have weekends after the main show here.” So we started our shows at 10 or 11 o’clock. We would go into McDonald’s next door and sort of wrangle audience members. They’d say “Well, what’s the show about?” and we’d say “We don’t know! You’ll have to help us!”

I understand that you were valedictorian of your high school class. Is that right?

I was, yes.

Obviously, you are very quick-witted. Were you studious and serious or just naturally very bright?

I was a bookworm. I was studious. It wasn’t until a friend of mine dared me to go out for a school play that things changed. My plans were to be a marine biologist — and then I got my first laugh and bye-bye biology. It was all about “now this is what I want.”

Getting laughs must be intoxicating.

You’re right. It is intoxicating to be able to get an entire audience to laugh at something you said. It just gave me something that I didn’t realize I needed.

You’ve written, produced and acted. What’s your favorite thing to do?

Acting! I love that I get to work with someone I trust. When I improvise, it’s usually with people I know, good friends. I love that. If you’re doing a movie or television, there are so many fingers in the pie. You have the director, the writers, the producers, and what you do may not end up in the final project. I love that when I‘m onstage and improvising, all the responsibility is on us. If we suck, it’s because we have sucked; we can’t blame anyone else. If it goes well, it’s because we did well.

I do want to ask about “Whose Line” a little bit. You’ve said that you worked with friends. You go way back with Ryan Stiles. How about the other two that were on the show? Wayne Brady was on most of the time, and there was a fourth person that sort of rotated. Was working with them as easy as with Ryan, or did that take more work?

It was pretty easy with Ryan. From day one, we kind of had the same sense of humor. It just fit very well. And with Wayne, Brad and Chip and all those guys, it was fairly easy. They are all excellent improvisors. I think that part of the reason that “Whose Line” did so well was that we really enjoyed each other. We had fun playing off each other.

I know you’re touring with Brad, so this may be hard to answer. But besides him, who was your favorite number four person on the show?

That is tough. Greg Proops is one. I first met Greg when we were doing the British “Whose Line,” so I’ve probably known him the longest, and he’s just one of my favorite people. It was always fun when he was on the show. Chip Esten is a lot of fun. Jeff Davis, too. I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings (laughs).

You didn’t mention Jonathan Mangum. I really like him.

Oh God, I hate him! He’s horrible! (Laughing.) Again, he’s lovely. I think one of the uniting things about the people is that they’re all really nice people, which is unusual in comedy. Some people are not so nice.

So I also have to ask: Drew Carey or Aisha Tyler?

Yes! What I love about Drew is he was a big fan of the show. He just loved watching it and was the biggest laugher. And he was incredibly generous. He would take us on trips every year that would cost him quite a bit of money, but he’d say, “You guys work your asses off.” And Aisha added a new element. When I first heard she was going to do it, I thought “Oh, what are we going to do with her. She’s beautiful, she’s smart, she’s funny.” Then you find out she’s just a big nerd. She would give as good as she’d take. So both had their special skills.

What were some of your favorite games? I really loved when you did sound effects with the audience members and when you were the newscaster in front of the green screen — that was great. How about you?

My favorite was always Greatest Hits. Because, first of all, I got to sit down, which is always good. Then Ryan and I just bantered and handed it over to the two incredible improv singers. I got to be a participant and a viewer and it never failed to tickle me. I loved watching the singers, but there’s also a deep, piercing jealousy, thinking, “Why don’t I have that in my utility belt?” They were not only improvising, coming up with the lyrics, but also just sounding so good, being able to parody the genres that we threw at them.

I’ve seen Hoedown. You’re not a singer, are you?

(Laughing) I’m not. And that’s what makes this show so exciting with Brad. We started doing this thing where our second act includes a tribute [song] to the town that we’re playing in. That makes it exciting that only one of us can actually sing well.

Have you ever been to Frederick?

I think we have. But I think it’s been a while.

What were some of your least favorite games?

Hoedown, right off the top! I also wasn’t a fan of Props, because they would bring us these two big things that immediately reminded you of some kind of genitalia. So you’d try to think of other things. That was always a tough job.

You have said that you weren’t paid fairly for the show. Can you explain?

We basically provided all the content for the show as writers, in a way, but there was no credit given for that because there’s really no classification for improv. I mean, we weren’t getting Ted Danson money, but we were doing OK. But you’d think, “Somebody’s making more money than we are, and we are the reason there’s a show.” Also, there were no residuals. They sort of classified us as a reality or game show or something to get around that. Don’t get me wrong — everything I have, I owe to” Whose Line,” but there are times when you go, eh. I went to the producer’s house in London once and thought, “Well, this is where the money went.”

How did your tour with Bard come about? You’ve been touring with him since 2002?

Yeah, it was during the Drew years. Drew one day said, “Hey, I’m doing a gig Super Bowl weekend in Vegas — why don’t we all go? We’ll do improv instead of me doing standup.” So we said, “Great!” That became sort of a yearly thing. The only downside was that there were 10 of us so we really didn’t get a lot of chances to do stuff. Brad suggested we try a two-man thing where we just go on tour and do improv. We did a test run for 10 days, and it seemed to go well. That was 23 years ago, and we’re still going strong.

What’s next for you? Do you have any projects that you are working on or are going to be working on soon?

I’m doing these two tours, and then my wife and I are going to be starring in a film to be shot in Ontario this summer, and then there are a couple of television things in the works up here.

This interview has been edited for space and clarity.

Colin Mochrie, 2025

Gary Bennett is a longtime Frederick resident who spends his time hiking, biking, volunteering and providing childcare for grandchildren. He is married and retired from his career as a nonprofit marketing executive.

In appreciation: 50 years of Barney Miller

By Gary Bennett

This article appears in the April 3, 2025, issue of Frederick News-Post’s “72 Hours” entertainment insert.

Before there was Barney the dinosaur, there was Barney Miller. (Of course, before that came the undisputed Barney champion of all time, Barney Fife.)

Being the second or third best of anything is not too bad, but the case can be made that “Barney Miller”, a smartly written police comedy from the 1970s and ’80s, was one of the best TV shows ever.

TV Guide sure thinks so. In 2013, it ranked “Barney Miller” No. 46 on its list of the top 60 TV shows of all time. That may not sound like much, but consider that by 2013, over 10,000 TV shows had aired on broadcast or cable TV since the 1940s.

“Barney Miller” premiered on ABC on Tuesday evening, Jan. 23, 1975. It stayed there for eight years, often preceded by another big ABC hit, “Happy Days.” The titular character of the show, Captain “Barney Miller,” was played superbly by handsome, 40-something, ‘70s ‘stache-sporting Broadway actor Hal Linden. He professionally and calmly led a motley bunch of police detectives in the “old one-two” — the 12th Police Precinct in New York City.

The show was created by Danny Arnold and Theodore J. Flicker. Noam Pitlik directed most episodes. “Barney Miller” was never canceled. The producers voluntarily ended production on May 20, 1982, fearing they may begin to repeat story lines. It was never what you might call a smash hit. It was more like comfortable sweatpants you looked forward to slipping on once each week.

Hal Linden

The entire series is available for purchase on DVD, and you can even catch two episodes every week night at 9 p.m. on Antenna TV.

“Barney Miller” takes place almost entirely within the confines of the detectives’ squad room and Captain Barney Miller’s adjoining office. Most of the police action happens off-screen. This was the same strategy employed by contemporary sitcom “All in the Family” that took place almost completely within the Bunker’s Queens living room.

The familiar old precinct setting, complete with clutter and grime that seemed immovable over the years, allowed viewers to focus completely on the interplay of the characters — both the starring detectives and guest starring complainants and suspects — to superb effect.

A typical episode featured the detectives of the 12th Precinct bringing in several oddball complainants or suspects to the squad room. Usually, there were two or three separate subplots in each episode, with different officers dealing with different crimes and suspects. Many of the laughs came from the seen-it-all detectives and their handling of the weirdo interlopers.

Captain Miller (Linden) tries to remain sane while leading the 12th Precinct’s detectives. And what a crew they were. This was one of television’s first great ensemble casts.

The cast was led by crotchety, world-weary, Jewish-American Philip K. Fish (played by Abe Vigoda of “The Godfather” fame); naive, excitable but goodhearted Polish-American Stanley “Wojo” Wojciehowicz (played by Max Gail); ambitious, intellectual and slightly arrogant African-American Ron Harris (played by Ron Glass); wisecracking, gambling, poor coffee-making Japanese-American Nick Yemana (played by Jack Soo); and beleaguered Puerto Rican Chano Amanguale (played by Gregory Sierra).

Abe Vigoda

Miller also had to deal with his winking, glad-handing, past his prime, unapologetically old-school superior, Inspector Frank Luger (played wonderfully by character actor James Gregory), and diminutive and toadying uniformed officer Carl Levitt (played by Ron Carey), who constantly badgers Miller about being promoted to detective. Chano and Fish were replaced by intellectual Arthur Dietrich (played by deadpan comedian Steve Landesberg) in season three.

Some typical conflicts and long-running plot lines included Miller’s constant efforts to maintain peace, order and discipline; Harris’ preoccupation with outside interests, especially his novel that he wrote while on the job (“Blood on the Badge”); Fish’s age-related incontinence issues and reluctance to retire; Wojo’s impulsive behavior; Luger’s nostalgia for the old days; Levitt’s eventually successful quest to become a detective; the rivalry between the precinct’s intellectuals, Harris and Dietrich; and reliably bad coffee made by Yemana.

Like many sitcoms, “Barney Miller” took a while to get established and find its bearings. The first season focused much of the time on Barney’s private life at home with wife Liz (played by Barbara Barrie). The show runners soon realized the laughs came from within the precinct and wrote Liz out of the show. Rarely after that did we get a glimpse into any of the detectives’ private lives.

One of my favorite episodes, “Hash,” explored what would happen if the detectives unknowingly ate brownies laced with hashish while on the job. A great line from that episode was delivered when the still sober Captain Miller asked Harris where nearly retired and slow-moving Fish was. Harris slurred, “Last time I saw him, Barn, he was jumping between buildings running down a perp.”

Another favorite was the fifth-season finale “Jack Soo: A Retrospective,” which paid tribute to the late comic actor who was felled by cancer earlier that year. In this episode, the cast, led by Linden, appeared as themselves in the 12th Precinct office as they fondly shared stories and remembrances of their dear friend. At the end of the episode, the cast raised their coffee cups in loving memory of Soo.

Decades after it left the air, “Barney Miller” retains a devoted following including real-life police officers, who appreciate the show’s emphasis on dialogue, believably quirky characters, and its low-key portrayal of cops going about their sometimes-mundane jobs. “Barney Miller” is very possibly the most realistic cop show TV has ever seen.

Inexplicably, none of the actors ever won an Emmy Award (there were many nominations for Linden, Glass and Landesberg), but the show itself was honored many times with writing and directing awards. In its final season of 1982, “Barney Miller” finally won the Emmy for best comedy series after six previous nominations.

Linden (94) and Gail (82) are still alive and fondly remember their time on the show. Linden has told interviewers that he is still occasionally called “Captain” by respectful, working police officers. It’s difficult to imagine anyone else in that role now, but Linden let on recently that only a scheduling conflict prevented Daren McGavin from taking the role.

To this day, “Barney Miller” remains an influential TV show, noted for its ability to tackle tough, timely issues in a lighthearted way.

Maxwell Gail

Gary Bennett is a longtime Frederick resident who spends his time hiking, biking, volunteering and providing childcare for grandchildren. He is married and retired from his career as a nonprofit marketing executive.

The Fonzie Phenomenon

By Gary Bennett

This article appears in the October 31, 2024 edition of the Frederick News-Post’s “72 Hours” entertainment insert.

In 1974, America was going through very tough times. Watergate hearings droned on every day, the Vietnam War was ending haphazardly, and oil shortages had us all waiting in long gas lines and on edge.

So, it came as no surprise when a wave a nostalgia hit America. Many of us pined for gentler, easier times. The 1950s seemed to fit the bill nicely. The economy was good then and grandfatherly Dwight Eisenhower was in the White House. The hit movie “American Graffiti” (1973) and smash musical “Grease” (1971) both examined an innocent brand of everyday teen life to rave reviews.

Not to be outdone, in the fall of ’74, network television brought us a modest situation comedy called “Happy Days,” starring child actor Ron Howard of “Andy Griffith Show” fame. For the first time, Richie, Ralph, Potsy and Fonzie entered our living rooms. Little did we know, they would stay for more than a decade.

One can only imagine the chance the network took on building a show around a former child actor (Howard), a bunch of other unknown 20-something actors and a couple of mature, little known character actors, all portraying a modest 1950s, family-and-friends-are-everything lifestyle.

But, somehow, it worked.

Whatever the network executives saw in the show’s premise and the young actors was proved right. The show took an idealized look at life in the ’50s. The father owned a hardware store. Mom stayed at home and kept house. The teen characters fretted over girls and problems at school. There was a tough guy with a heart of gold. All of this was set in the comfortable backdrop of Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

The show was like “American Graffiti,” also starring Howard, by focusing on the teen lives of the main characters. Best friends Richie Cunningham (Howard), Potsy Webber (Anson Williams) and Ralph Malph (Don Most) hit all the right notes as teens trying to do their best but with a talent for getting in trouble.

The show didn’t do well at first. But soon it caught fire when it began featuring a minor, leather-clad character called Fonzie — or The Fonz. It’s difficult to overstate the influence of The Fonz on 1970s culture.

Henry Winkler as Arthur (Fonzie) Fonzarelli

Arthur Fonzarelli was played to “tough-guy-with-a-heart” perfection by a young, handsome, Yale-trained actor named Henry Winkler. The Fonz was a biker, a high school dropout and a bit older than the teens who idolized him, but he had a kind of magical coolness and street smarts that drew people to him. He would often enter the show with two or three young ladies on his arm.

Fonzie became one of the most memorable and merchandised characters of the 1970s. His image was on everything from lunch boxes and T-shirts to posters and soda cans. Henry Winkler became a major star and later parlayed his stardom into a lucrative movie career. His trademark leather jacket is now on display at the Smithsonian.

His catch phrases, which I can’t do justice to in print, were not scripted but created by Winkler. They included “sit on it” — an insult of epic proportions, “heyyyyyy!,” “whoa” and “correctamundo!” It wasn’t long before these phrases were on the lips of ‘70s teens and pre-teens everywhere.

It also didn’t hurt that Fonzie had superpowers. He could start any balky machine, including the local juke box, with a well-place rap of his fist, and he could instantly summon girls to his side with a snap of his fingers. He was the guy every man (and boy) wanted to be and every woman wanted to be with.

He had a kind of cool not seen on the small screen to this day. The only young character that came remotely close was James Dean in the movie “Rebel Without a Cause.” Everyone knew The Fonz was tough and could fight, but he never had to. His reputation always preceded him.

In 1999, TV Guide ranked Fonzie as No. 4 on its “50 Greatest TV Characters of All Time” list. Even so, the Emmy for best lead actor in a comedy eluded Winkler. He was nominated three times but never won. Decades later in 2015, he finally received his first Emmy for his performance on HBO’s “Barry.” Today, a bronze statue of The Fonz stands on the Milwaukee Riverwalk.

I believe one critical theme, eschewing convention, that creator Garry Marshall came up with that allowed the show to thrive was that The Fonz, who had absolutely no reason to do so, genuinely befriended the slightly nerdy teens. No one was quite sure why, but we all suspected it was because he could, and no one would say a word. Or, it may have been that he had a soft spot for those who are awkward and not as cool as him. It was probably a little of both.

Another theme that played well was the genuine love and respect the teens showed for the grownups. In turn, the grownups were supportive and gentle with the teens. The mutual love was easily apparent. The Cunningham parents were played pitch-perfectly by veteran actors Tom Bosley and Marion Ross. (Ross is still alive at 96.) The heart they brought to their much smaller parts was remarkable. Fonzi even had a soft spot for the motherly “Mrs. C.” She was the only one who could call him Arthur and get away with it.

“Happy Days” was one of the most successful shows of the 1970s. In its 11 seasons through 1984, it became the third longest-running sitcom in ABC’s history, with 255 episodes. In the 1976 and 1977 seasons, it was the No. 1 television show in America. The show spawned successful spinoffs “Laverne and Shirley” and “Mork and Mindy.” Both were culturally relevant in their own right.

The show played in syndication almost right away. One of my fondest memories from college in the mid- to late-‘70s, is playing cards between classes at the student union with pals of my own with “Happy Days” playing in the background.

At this year’s Emmy Awards, the now-famous duo of Howard and Winkler stole the show with their “Happy Days” reunion back at Arnold’s Malt Shop. Winkler even smacked the juke box to get it going like he did so many times in the ‘70s.

Gary Bennett is a longtime Frederick resident who spends his time hiking, biking, volunteering and providing childcare for grandchildren. He is married and retired from his career as a nonprofit marketing executive.