When it comes to TV, the trick is to find the treat

Back in the days when kids actually had to sing for their candy while trick-or-treating, there was naturally a bit of pumpkin and witch overkill.

At a rate of 50 halloweeners every 60 minutes singing "Three Little Pumpkins Sitting on a Fence," a person would have 150 pumpkins per hour. Plus, there would be 50 witches riding by in the same hour.

To tell you the truth, I've forgotten the names of the other Halloween standards that we used to sing when we sang for our sugar, but I do recall that our repertoire was limited.

One year, my friend Jeff (I do have some friends who don't have unusual names) and I decided to spice up our treat-or-treating floor show by singing the theme song to the old Western sitcom, "F Troop."

I'd have to say the singing experiment produced mixed results. People who were spared "Three Little Pumpkins" showered Jeff with candy bars and nickels. (The nickels gives you an idea of how long ago we tricked-or-treated.)

However, my vocal performances earned me only Sugar Daddy caramel lollipops in the hopes that my teeth would get stuck and I wouldn't be able to sing any more.

I'd really be in trouble if I were to go trick-or-treating these days - and not just because people might not want a middle-aged, gray-haired guy to come knocking on their door after dark.

My primary problem would be that I don't know the theme songs of any shows that have appeared in the past five to 10 years. I don't know if the TV shows of today even have theme songs.

This is due to two reasons: I rarely get to watch what my dad lovingly called the "idiot box." If my dad were alive today in the age of big-screen TVs, he would probably call it the "idiot wall."

Secondly, other electronic devices have dramatically changed the way I watch programs.

Thanks to the use of various recording devices, I can watch a 30-minute show in about half that time by eliminating the opening and closing credits and all the commercials in between.

Back in the day when TV consoles were the size of compact cars, we didn't have that option. If we wanted to watch a show, we had to sit through the opening, commercials and closing.

Although I often worked on homework while in front of the set while my favorite shows were on, I did not always give top priority to my schoolwork.

As a result, I may not know the difference between an isosceles and scalene triangle, but I can remember all the lyrics to the opening song of "Car 54, Where Are You?"

As a matter of fact, I made my column debut in this newspaper as a TV trivia "expert." I would throw out a number of obscure facts about television programs and each week, issue an invitation for readers to send in their questions.

The response was decidedly less than overwhelming. I wrote that column for a year or two, and I only got one question. It was from a reader who asked, "Why are you still writing this column?"

These days, the only time I really get the urge to watch TV is when I am supposed to be doing some type of job or task.

Even when I do want to watch television, it doesn't seem to be worth it. When I first started to watch TV, I had four channels to choose from, and I almost always found something.

Today's cable and satellite dishes bring 20, 30 or 50 times as many stations into our homes and I usually find that I had better luck finding something worthwhile back when my choices were extremely limited.

Of course, TV is still as trendy even if it is not as watchable. I think they've pretty much used up all the reality TV show ideas - unless they do a reality show about doing a reality show.

There are still talk shows for those who would rather watch people have a conversation instead of just talking to their neighbor - or even spouse - on their own.

After a couple of quick trips through the available programs, I usually settle on a channel that plays sitcoms from the '50s and '60s

The other night I was watching it and discovered that one channel was showing re-reruns of "F Troop."

Maybe I'll call up Jeff, rehearse the theme song a few times and hit the trick-or-treat circuit.

I'm sure we would do well, but I'm concerned that a Sugar Daddy would get stuck in my beard.

(Kozlowski, a freelance writer from Mount Carmel, composes "Walt's Way" for each Sunday edition.)

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