In fact, there was little that could not be won on “The Price Is Right.”

Bob Barker represents everything right in our turbulent world. He is the impenetrable ray of sunshine beaming down upon our tired and weary souls.

Ever the reliable slice of Americana on daytime television for 35 long and glorious years, Mr. Barker is the Roman Empire of game show television entertainment.

He has instructed us in the subtle art of taking balls-out chances in the face of imminent disaster. More importantly, he has single-handedly taught American society that it has every God-given right to dream of overcoming the greatest of obstacles in the name of acquiring aesthetically-pleasing handcrafted Amish dinette sets, whicker patio chairs and household cleaning supplies.

He is also a role model for learning how to interact in a respectable manner with the fairer sex. If Barker had never been born, our universe would be a cold and meaningless place. Material possessions would certainly have less value to us, and winning both showcase showdowns would never have been conceivable to our feeble and unsophisticated minds.

Thus, it is with a heavy heart we learned of Mr. Barker’s plans for retirement from the most successful daytime television show, “The Price Is Right.” Certainly for many, there is the impending feeling that a part of childhood is officially deemed retired in the process.

For who among us did not feign sickness in the third grade in order to eat five to 17 bowls of Cocoa Puffs with an imaginary friend inside a fort built from laundry hampers and blankets in order to watch two consecutive hours of “The Price Is Right” completely unsupervised in utter doe-eyed wonder and fascination?

Beginning in 1972, “The Price Is Right” was an instant success. Its action, fast-paced, its prizes, grandiose.

Sexy, yet respectably dressed models displayed prizes for the contestants to bid upon. The live television audience always had the collective disposition of a full-scale riot. Their unsurpassed level of excitement seemed to have the power of a stampede of rabid, bloodthirsty bulls who have been cattle-prodded one too many times.

Yet the most important ingredient to the show was the ever suave and linguistically robust host. His gentility and superhuman charisma score seemed to pierce through the bane of our souls five days a week. It seemed like no matter how incredibly horrible everything was in the outside world, Bob Barker’s genuinely warm and charismatic demeanor seemed to repress those bleak thoughts for just another day.

Daytime television viewers vicariously lived through contestants fighting with vicious tenacity for survival and advancement into the Showcase Showdown — a death match of sorts, which awarded wealth and fabulous prizes to whoever could approximate the overall price of their grand prize package.

Throughout the years, the prizes grew in scope and magnitude, including African safaris, camping trailers with encumbrance ratings large enough to comfortably fit a family of 18, vacuum cleaners, shiny automobiles, stunning chandeliers, stainless steel cookware, taxidermy, gold bricks, dehumidifiers and prime real estate in the Florida everglades.

In fact, there was little that could not be won on “The Price Is Right.”

In the end, it was the TV audience that came up the biggest winners. Daytime television viewers had the opportunity to grow up watching the adrenaline pumping Plinko, of nervously anticipating the Yodeling Mountain Climber’s morbid fall off the edge of the cliff, of hoping against all hope that the code could be discovered in the nick of time during Safecracker and shedding oh-so-delicate tears with the winner of the Showcase Showdown.

Bob Barker will be missed by all the fragile hearts and beaten-down souls who tuned in to “Come on down!” during the last 35 years to marvel at the majestic splendor of one of television’s most illustrious and celestial beings.

> Comments