As many boomers like me can attest, we watched Beaver grow up in an ideal home led by his father, Ward Cleaver. He was a businessman who was a clone of Jim Anderson, Father Knows Best, Steve Douglas, My Three Sons, Ozzie Nelson, Ozzie and Harriet, and probably many other “perfect” fathers. With the exception of Ricky Ricardo and Ralph Kramden, most of the families lived in nice middle-class houses with the proverbial white picket fence and few problems. Drink and drugs were non-existent. The weekly number revolved around the school dance or some other benign social ill. There was never any mention of money, let alone minorities, crime, addictions, or any off-color humor. Instead, life was good, healthy, and rewarding. In the end, a moral that summarized the theme always accompanied the show. In short, it was Pleasantville.

To me, it symbolized everything I hoped to accomplish as a teenager in the ’60s. All I had to do was study hard, stay out of trouble, and I’d go to college, get my athletic license to swim, meet my girlfriend, and then I’d get married. I would get married there too, graduate and go straight to a great job that I would keep. until I retired. Wow, that was a mouthful. But it seemed easy enough at the time. After all, Wally Cleaver, Ricky Nelson, and Bud Anderson were doing it, so why not me? Ok, maybe I was a bit naive. But television wouldn’t lie, would it? Just look at the TV shows that followed for decades to come. They were all handsome, rich in money and experts in solving crimes, doctors or lawyers. They almost never got sick, had car accidents, got into serious trouble, or even messed up their hair or makeup during a crisis.

Of course, we realize that this is a fantasy. The people on the screen can’t be real. They never go to the bathroom, hardly ever taking the time to eat, sleep, pay bills, shop for groceries, or get bored. But they do represent a cross-section of a virtual society that the writers think you want to see. Over the years, they have been less than perfect as producers struggle to appeal to the common man. For this they have given us characters like Columbo, scruffy and forgetful, and lately House, a cripple who hates everyone, and Monk, who has a phobia of everything. But these are exceptions to the pretty and more perfect people that abound.

So is this a problem? Is it worse than super skinny models in women’s magazines or men with rock-solid abs in fitness publications? Does it not give us something to achieve or is it an unrealistic and unattainable goal? TV and movies should be entertaining and escapist. But they also reflect current social norms. Do all generations recognize that fact or are they unduly influenced? Since the ban on cigarette advertising, very few movies show the smoking that was so common in the 1940s and 1950s on both television and film. Movies can get an “X” rating for having too much sex and violence. Censors keep television under control, according to moral standards. However, we are always pushing the limits of good taste. Regardless of those facts, who is the ultimate Ward Cleaver, and thus which father of television would you like to emulate?

We’ll see. Ed in Married with Children is a lousy father and husband. Jim in According to Jim he is an idiot. Homer Simpson is an idiot. Okay, maybe sitcoms aren’t the answer. After all, women are always smarter and prettier, although children are often out of control. There are the obligatory neighbors and eccentric relatives. It’s like the real families of Jerry Springer without the live audience. So who is the new ideal? Could Dr. Phil and his wife be his Robin? But he’s a real psychologist, so he’s not fair. We need new role models to look up to. Maybe they can color in old Leave it to Beaver episodes and digitally insert cell phones, plasma TVs, and computers. Then this generation will be able to see what a true American dream family is all about. Television producers, are you listening or reading? And for the old members of the Mickey Mouse Club, get ready.