bionic grrls

Last week I was delighted to read Analee Newitz’ AltnerNet column discussing the contemporary version of the Bionic Woman television series. Since I have not watched the new version,  I appreciated reading about the substantial differences between this and the classic version.

Of course the generational and time differences between the two shows would be many.  One could not repeat the awesomeness and near-perfection that "The Bionic Woman" of the 70′s represented to girls and women all over the US. 

However time may have its way with things,  I would never suspect Jaime Sommers to be in a dead-end job and entirely dependent on a man for her survival.  I guess the women’s lib factor was dumped in favor of a simulated freedom.  According to Annalee’s review, "Modern Bionic Woman, Retrograde Feminism"  this simulation might project strength, but at the core proves nothing more than a chick looking to score a wealthy man to support her aspirational lifestyle fantasies.

Sad, but whatever happens to the fictitious Jaime Sommers of today is no matter.
The classic character already ignited a generation of young urban girls
who never fully comprehended that a world could exist where they
could not do exactly as they chose. 

As a reminder (and to be fair)  I have not seen the new show. To be clear, I don’t watch broadcast or even time-shifted TV, with the exceptions of the BBC World News, The Colbert Report and our local news on occasion. Maybe because I can’t sit still or because I overdosed on TV growing up. Or maybe it’s because, in the words of you know who, "Television made me what I am" — quite literally. It was our bread and butter, our meal ticket in the 70s and 80s with both my parents gainfully employed and immersed in writing shows.

At any rate, my heart skipped a beat  when I first found out about the remake of the series.  I was just a little kid running around the playground at full speed during ’76-’78, thinking about super-human powers, comic book heroes and even more inspirationally, fuck you heroes.  I recall watching the Bionic Woman with deep admiration and great loyalty. These episodes preceded neighborhood bike races and skateboarding after school.  Always the smell of warm, sun-roasted asphalt passing by in a blur with the Bionic sound effects spiraling outwards into the smoggy haze.

At the height of the show’s popularity and my ever-lasting crush on the Bionic Woman,  my parents were invited to a dinner party at Lindsey Wagner’s house.  I was all of 7 years old, possibly a senior child of 8 years  and  *begged* my parents to join them for the  dinner party.  However, crying and pleading got me nowhere. 

For my last proposition, I let my folks know that I’d settle for just riding with them to the Bionic Woman’s house.  My parents could go in for the dinner and I’d be happy to wait in the car.  Still, I couldn’t move them — nothing was getting me to this party.

I could not understand why they would not take me.  In retrospect — Sex? Drugs? Rock and Roll? It was 1977, possibly 1978.  As people were getting down at CBGB’s or Studio 54 in NY,  getting pissed on the Clash and Sex Pistols in the UK,  many Angelenos were experiencing their own wilderness in the mighty canyons. Anything could have taken place.

Finally, without me, my parents drove off to spend the evening with my most favorite, idolized,  crushed-out person in the world.  I had a small melt down and eventually cried myself to sleep.

At some point late at night, Michael and my Mother woke me up to show the 8×10 black and white glossy head shot of the Bionic Woman they brought back for me that evening. It is signed:

"To Jennifer   
Happiness -
Lindsey Wagner"

What kills me is that when we drove over Coldwater Canyon after this party, my mother pointed out Lindsey Wagner’s house. To this day, when I drive over Coldwater I look at that private road,  chain link fence and have a nice laugh.