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Mike Brady was a lousy architect

For some reason, "The Brady Bunch" never cut it for me, though I was a teen-ager when it first aired.

"The Partridge Family" was cornball, but it had Susan Dey as the oldest daughter, which made it appealing to the eye.

"The Brady Bunch" had Maureen McCormick and Eve Plumb, but I could never enjoy their hotness because I could never get over the absurdity of Casa Brady.

The father, Mike Brady, was an architect, but judging by the layout of his house, how he kept his job was a mystery to me.

The house had this huge staircase that ate into living space for no particular reason other than to display the eight family members and their maid.

The upstairs was so cramped that there was room for only three bedrooms and two baths.

"The Waltons" had more bedrooms, and they were dirt poor.

But the Bradys crammed three boys into one room and three girls into another. A tiny community bathroom separated the two.

Who in their right mind puts six adolescents who are not blood relatives in such tight quarters without parental supervision?

Fortunately, Greg Brady was dumber than rocks and never figured out how this could work to his advantage.

In one episode, his father convinced him to mow an Astroturf lawn.

Dad may have been a lousy architect, but he knew how to get a good laugh out of his goofy son.

As many others have wondered, I asked why they employed Alice. Why couldn't Carol handle all the housework by herself?

It's not as if she had to do laundry by pounding it with rocks down by the creek - although we can all agree that the polyester clothing of the 1970s deserved to be pounded by something.

She didn't need a maid. She had  modern appliances, albeit in avocado with orange countertops.

Many other old shows had problems, too.

"The Honeymooners" should not be aired today. Ralph Kramden should have been put behind bars for his verbal abuse and threats to Alice.

To the moon, Alice? To jail, Ralph!

All that smoking indoors on "I Love Lucy" would have closed Ricky Ricardo's nightclub.

On the other hand, Samantha on "Bewitched" would be fully out of the broom closet these days. Wiccan is in.

"Batman" was a great joy to watch when I was a kid. I loved the campiness of the 1960s show. It was great escapism.

Cesar Romero's Joker never inspired anyone to shoot up a crowded theater.

Today, Batman makes no sense.

Between GPS and Google, anyone today could locate the Bat Cave, and his secret identity would be no secret thanks to Wikileaks.

Besides that, Batman's arrests pose a problem.

Sure, the police deputized him, but the various costumed criminals do have the right to face their accuser in court.

This explains why the Joker, the Penguin, the Riddler and the rest came back so often.

Without Batman's testimony, prosecutors would be forced to plea bargain the time in jail.

Finally, there is the coyote and the roadrunner.

Physicists for years have scoffed at the absurdity of the various sight gags. Apparently, gravity works even if you do not look down first.

Recently, I learned the top speed of a roadrunner is 20 mph. Coyotes can go 43 mph.

Meep meep?

Try munch, munch.

Maybe I expect too much from television.

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