"I apologize. I know I left some of your favorite shows off this list. How do I know that? Because I left some of my favorite shows off this list. The happy and unfortunate fact is that there are far more than 100 great shows, and more created every year. Lists are incredibly important: they are how we define what matters to us, what we want entertainment and art to do, what we expect of our culture." —TIME TV critic James Poniewozik
Early in this game show, you are reminded of what a different time it was made in, and I don’t mean when the intro proclaims it “television’s gayest game!” It’s when panelist Bennett Cerf is introduced as a “publisher, raconteur and wit.” Try to imagine somebody on Deal or No Deal being willingly labeled with any of those three descriptives. The concept was simple: a celebrity panel asked yes-or-no questions of guests and tried to guess what they did for a living. But the real game—as on You Bet Your Life or, later, Match Game—was listening to the panel reason and trade witticisms. The cocktail banter and the choice of panelists—columnists, politicians—befit a time before the Jerry Springer / Charlie Rose apartheid of low and highbrow talk TV. The stakes may have been low on What’s My Line?, but the conversation was raconteurriffic.
This radio workplace sitcom was as disposably ’70s as the loud patterns on Herb Tarlek’s leisure suits, but it was something more too. It’s probably best remembered for its gut-busting stories of office hijinks and promotions gone wrong (“As God is my witness, I thought turkeys could fly!”). But it was an underratedly smart show, infused with a sense of things ending—especially, the free-form, anarchic, album-rock ’70s. (One of its most moving episodes was about the 1979 Who concert stampede disaster at Riverfront Stadium.) From its wistful theme song—”Just maybe think of me once in a while”—to its setting at a small-market station past its heyday, WKRP mixed a few bittersweet notes into its playlist of savvy comedy.