My first exposure to Television came at about the age of 4, before it slipped into the mist of memory with our move to Japan soon after.
TV was at my friend’s home down the block. All limits of range during the early 50s was defined by the admonition “You can go to ___, but do not cross the street.” I honored that (for the time being, Japan would raise the stakes).
Timing was all, it seemed, when it came to watching TV. One benchmark was when would my friend be home from Kindergarten so that we could start? He arrived, now was time for warming up the TV.
As it brightened, on the hour, I saw a spectacular sight of an antenna sitting on top of a mountain. I knew mountains. Denver has lots of them nearby. As the TV came into focus, the antenna began to throw off sparks.
Wow! I was ready for anything that TV would offer. Then amazement compounded with a sudden scene change to a man sitting at a desk, speaking into the camera. He was important, I could tell, because he was talking about adult things happening in the world.
He was in charge, he lived in a mountain (really in charge), and sent sparks into the sky (there were no more superlatives for in charge).