Connie's Corner - soap operas – escaping the hum-drum - The Navasota Examiner

The duties of a 1950s housewife were 180 degrees from that of today’s stay-at-home moms. Despite America’s postwar economic growth, not everyone had washers, dryers or a second automobile. For several years, my mother hand-washed our clothes and hung them on the clothesline to dry and, then, had the tedious task of ironing those clothes. She broke the monotony by listening to the radio. My mother was the quintessential bookworm. She loved the classics and Lord Byron, but for 15-minutes each day she was a captive audience to that American phenomenon, the soap opera.

Because of ankle edema, my mother would iron sitting on a stool in front of the radio, where she listened to farm reports and old-time country music but in the afternoon she indulged in a little melodrama listening to “The Brighter Day.” The program about a New England reverend and his four children aired on NBC radio in 1948 and was sponsored by Dreft Detergent, hence the term soap opera. Mama was not a television watcher, but she made the leap in 1954, when we bought our first television and “The Brighter Day” aired on CBS that same year. Now, her ironing board faced the television.

Ironically, it was her generation’s children that brought about the demise of “The Brighter Day.” American Bandstand aired in 1957 and those 15-minute soaps like “The Brighter Day, The Guiding Light” and “The Secret Storm” all struggled for ratings. After unsuccessful attempts at location and scheduling changes, “The Brighter Day” bit the dust in 1962 and my mother never watched soap operas again.

In April 1967, pregnant, at home and bored, I tuned in to “Days of Our Lives.” Soon it was apparent that “Days” was my mother’s “Brighter Day,” since my diaper and laundry folding revolved around it. The marketing ploy worked on me as well. Dreft, Ivory Flakes and Ivory Snow were the detergents of choice for my baby clothes. I actually had a meltdown one day at a laundromat when I forgot the Downey. A friend, a Viet Nam Marine vet who had given me a ride, very succinctly reminded me that for thousands of years, children survived without Downey in their rinse water!

Eventually my children caught “Days” fever as well and when I took a part-time job in 1983, I recorded “Days” so we wouldn’t miss the dramatic reveal of who killed Renee. Even my husband got caught up in the mystery.

Just as my generation changed the course of daytime programming for my mother, what goes around comes around, and my soaps began catering to a younger audience. When the “children” of my soap stars became the stars, I began to lose interest. I had been content with torrid love affairs, a little embezzlement here and a little murder there – not chasing clues or dodging spies across Europe.

“Days” finally ended for the Clements family when I went to work fulltime. Renee was dead and I had tired of Stefano DiMera, aka The Phoenix, continually rising from the ashes. “Doc” Marlena couldn’t seem to make up her mind who she loved and the show wasn’t the same without Dr. and Mrs. Horton.

Over the years, soaps have suffered their share of criticism as a waste of time and a waste of mind but for past generations, the soaps provided a mental escape and made tedious or routine tasks a little more bearable. So, as the world turns, like sands through the hour glass, those are the days or our lives. Now, go seek the guiding light and have a brighter day!

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