SNL is still on the air, but for me the thrill is gone. I miss the days when Saturday night felt like sneaking out after curfew — when a sketch could knock you off the couch and keep you laughing into Sunday morning.
Part of the From the Archives collection — pull up a chair and revisit the television, music, technology, and cultural moments that shaped earlier generations.
I’m talking about the Coneheads (“Mass consumption!”). The Loud Family. The 747 lounge. Those gloriously wrong fake commercials (Meat Wagon Racing Sets!). Samurai Dry Cleaners. Julia Child trying to debone a chicken — “Oh, I seem to have cut myself.” Point/Counterpoint (“Jane, you ignorant…”) sparring like prize fighters. “Hello, Mrs. Lupner.” Roseanne Roseannadanna. The Church Lady. The Trough and Brew. And a hundred smaller bits that still live rent-free in our heads. “Coach, Herbie is buzzing off again!”
It wasn’t just the lines. It was the energy. Belushi, Aykroyd, Murray, Chase, Carvey, Curtin — killers. The kind of performers who could walk onstage with nothing but a prop and a stare and make an entire country lean forward. Before “PC” was a household word, insult humor ruled the night, and the goal was simple: be funny, be fearless, and be fast.
These days? For me it feels safer. Dare I say WOKE! Slicker. Less dangerous. Maybe I got older. Maybe the show did. Maybe both. But I can still remember a time when we couldn’t wait for that cold open, and the only question was, “What madness are they going to unleash next?”
Your turn: Drop your all-time sketch — the one that still makes you bark-laugh. Bonus points if you still quote it at the dinner table.
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