The Incredible Inman's Pop Culture Potluck

My daughter Nora joins me to talk about what was probably her (and my) favorite Nickelodeon animated series when she was a kid -- "Hey, Arnold!" We talk about the show's philosophy of diversity as strength and review some memorable episodes, including "The Stoop Kid," "The Pigeon Man," "Ghost Bride" and "Helga on the Couch," detailing the life of' Arnold's truest love/fiercest enemy, Helga Pataki.

My daughter Nora joins me to talk about her favorite episodes of the spooky Nickelodeon series from the 1990s — a show that helped trigger her lifelong love of scary movies. We talk about episodes involving everything from a kid trapped in a dollhouse to a haunted movie theatre to a kid who kills the school bully to Zeebo the clown. Join us — IF YOU DARE!

Elvis Presley wasn't born in 1956, but his career was. He began the year barely known outside the south, but under the management of Col. Tom Parker he spent 1956 making his mark on TV variety shows hosted by Milton Berle, Steve Allen and Ed Sullivan; and his recordings for RCA, beginning with "Heartbreak Hotel," dominated the pop charts. By the end of the year he was arguably the best-known entertainer in America, with broader fame still to come.

When Louis Armstrong first saw the sheet music for "Hello, Dolly," he was in low spirits. It was just 11 days after the assassination of President John F. Kennedy and Armstrong was in a career lull. He also didn't think much of the song. But he recorded it like the pro he was, and while he was off playing other gigs, it displaced the Beatles as America's top pop song. It also helped Armstrong transition from a jazz pro into a pop-music idol.

The rise of Lawrence Welk and of rock and roll happened at roughly the same time -- maybe in reaction to each other. Welk's band played classic white-bread tunes -- waltzes, foxtrots and polkas -- and were television favorites for an amazing three decades. Reruns of the show still air on PBS stations across the country. We look at Welk's popularity, despite his awkward stage presence, and the musical "family" he featured on his show, including the Lennon Sisters.

I'm joined once again by my brother Steve for a trip down memory lane to recall our TV memories from the 1960s and '70s, specifically Saturday morning shows like "Casper the Friendly Ghost" and "The Banana Splits Hour," with side trips involving everything from "Schoolhouse Rock" to "The Eighth Man."

In 1934, Orson Welles came to Broadway in a production of "Romeo and Juliet" and within a year he was putting his mellifluous voice to use by doing a lot of radio work, including as part of the stock company, imitating famous newsmakers, on "The March of Time." While producing and directing shows on Broadway, he was also making a name for himself as the title character on "The Shadow" and, later, scaring America to death with "War of the Worlds." Today we consider Welles's work as a rising star on the radio, leading to an offer from Hollywood.

One of the most anticipated shows of the 1986-87 season was "Life with Lucy," Lucille Ball's return to weekly TV after 12 years. Ball's plan was to get the band back together by turning to the writers and cast members she'd worked with for decades in a show loaded with slapstick comedy and physical pratfalls. But Ball was 75 and her co-star, Gale Gordon, was 80 -- and, like them, the formula that had worked so well for Ball for years was showing its age.    

When Raymond Burr died in 1993, he was eulogized around the world as the star of "Perry Mason" and "Ironside." But the obituaries were notable for what they didn't say as much as for what they did say. None of them mentioned that Burr was gay -- he had been closeted all his life. And most of them mentioned commonly-accepted facts about Burr -- that he was twice widowed, that he lost a son to leukemia and that he fought in World War II. None of that was true.

In the immortal tradition of cave people banging on rocks and skulls and strolling troubadours of the Middle Ages, there is also the TV theme song. We take a look at the state of the theme in 1966, which featured songs with one-word lyrics ("Batman") and pop hits ("Secret Agent") as well as songs that did a lot of heavy lifting to explain the often-outlandish concept of the show ("My Mother the Car," "It's About Time"). We also feature a quick salute to one of the masters of the sitcom theme song who was well represented in 1966 -- composer Vic Mizzy.