As someone who was not blessed with cable television in his youth, few things were more treasured than those precious, stolen moments at friends’ houses when I could park myself in their living room and bask in the warm glow of cable television.
And, in those halcyon days, Nickelodeon was king. Disney and its unstoppable, tween-star-producing juggernaut assembly line had not yet made the jump from premium to basic cable television.
Today, thanks to Nick GaS (Games and Sports), those salad days are here again to be relived to my heart’s content. All day, the channel’s programming consists solely of such classics as “Guts,” “Nick Arcade” and “Get the Picture.”
But of all the game shows popular during that period, “Legends of the Hidden Temple” was by far my favorite. Of course, there were others that also fused physical challenges with mental ones. But none pulled it off with the same style and aplomb as “Legends.”
And, certainly, none had a giant, talking stone head.
But, while my heart soars at the sound of that familiar theme music and the wonderfully alliterative team names (go Silver Snakes!), not everything has withstood the test of time.
From the garish first-season sweatpants to host Kirk Fogg’s incoherence and profound inability to remember the temple’s room’s names (not to mention his conspicuously frequent use of the word “blazing”), things are not as sunny as my rose-tinted glasses of childhood had once made them seem.
The mind reels at the ignorance of some contestants when it comes down to the final event: the temple run. Honestly, after the first season, it’s inexcusable that these kids struggle with the Shrine of the Silver Monkey. Did they not bother to have ever watched the show they’re competing on?
Today, it’s especially hard not to scoff at some of those prizes of yesteryear: Aiwa cassette players, Commodore Amigas and vacations with accommodations supplied by Best Western. Best Western, for goodness’ sake. Then again, at least that’s a name you recognize ““ unlike a trip to the ominous-sounding Smugglers’ Notch resort in Vermont. (I will, however, concede that Space Camp is still an impressive grand prize. That is, until the Russian space agency makes it affordable enough to do the real thing.)
At the time, I envied the children fortunate enough to compete. Only now do I realize how truly lucky they were. At the time, it never occurred to me that these kids came from families that could afford a vacation to Universal Studios Florida and stay as many days as it took to get on the show.
(Interestingly enough, this may explain the lack of racial diversity among the competitors ““ something else I failed to notice in my youth.)
One girl, in the brief interview segment, had apparently seen Pink Floyd perform live where the Berlin Wall once stood. As my roommate aptly put it: “That girl’s already a winner.”
Upon greater reflection, the scariest part of “Legends of the Hidden Temple” weren’t the mysterious temple guards lurking in the shadows but Fogg. Festively dressed strangers who spring from the darkness have nothing on a glassy-eyed, overly handsy game show host.
Just watch for yourself and you’ll see how uncomfortably excessive his physical contact with the children was. The Mayan temple guards could at least be warded off with a pendant of life.
The only thing you could give Fogg to get rid of him was your childhood innocence. And, in a sense, I do so willingly to this day ““ frequently from 3 a.m. to 4 a.m., seated comfortably in front of my TV.
If you think Smugglers’ Notch sounds like a kinky sex act, e-mail Leng at dleng@media.ucla.edu.