In an effort to cheer up the relatively somber mood I was doing my best to create last night, my friends decided that we would spend some time watching previews from the “Video On Demand” feature of their digital cable. If you haven’t seen this, let me tell you that it is really pretty incredible. Hundreds (thousands?) of movies, unfortunately divided into categories such as “Spring Break,” each with its own preview, all available within seconds of your request. One could spend hours just checking out the previews, without actually purchasing a single movie. That’s what we did.
As amazing a tool for time wasting as Video On Demand might be, it is not the subject of this post. The subject, which I am getting to, is why I love Michael Gross. As a tender youngster in a loving suburban home, I remember gathering around the television each evening for several hours of normalcy indoctrination. Among my very favorite of these programs was Family Ties, starring Michael Gross as the affable and perennially flannel-clad Steven Keaton. As an impressionable youngster, I took Mr. Keaton’s deep moral fiber and commitment to liberal causes to heart, and it was here that my own dedication to environmental protection, universal health care, and a woman’s right to choose were forged. Perhaps no other television personality has had greater impact on my political leanings.
You can imagine my confusion, then, at Mr. Gross’ appearance in the critically acclaimed Kevin Bacon film Tremors (1990). In a 180 degree turnabout, the political beacon of my formative years had transformed himself from an approachable, flannel-wearing liberal into a paranoid, flannel-wearing gun nut. Despite this political flip-flop, I continued to closely follow the burgeoning career TV’s favorite dad; for Michael Gross had risen above the political fray for the sake of the integrity of his craft.
Free of the ideological chains that once confined him, my childhood idol went on to soaring heights on the silver screen, taking the festivals by storm with performances in Vanilla Ice’s Cool as Ice, Tremors 2, opposite Kirsten Dunst in True Heart, and Tremors 3: Return of the Nasty. There is no dispute among critics in the know that, throughout the nineties, Michael Gross was Hollywood’s sweetheart, the belle of the cinematic ball.
As closely as I had followed the career of Meredith Baxter-Birney’s TV hubby, his latest project had somehow dodged my radar. On a Saturday night, totally sober and in deep Brooklyn, as we scrolled through the seemingly endless list of films available for purchase, the heavens opened and dropped a little gift onto our screen. There it was, Tremors 4, the exciting, Old-West prequel to the beloved Tremors trilogy. “I bet Michael Gross is in this!” I screeched. My excitement was rewarded when the preview proudly announced, “Featuring original Tremors cast member Michael Gross.” We laughed so hard I thought we’d wake the neighbors. I can only hope to feel such jubilation again in my life.
Thank you, Michael Gross, for making a lousy night a little bit better.
And that’s why I love Michael Gross.
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