This one was almost never finished due to depression; and not mine, for a change.  Wait, I guess it is mine.  Parts of the story are just very sad.  Way too sad for this silly show.

Host Truman Bradley says over a picture of New York City, “Don’t let the bright lights fool you.  The production of a Broadway play, in all its technical aspects, is an exact science.”  One of the technical wizards is theater lighting director Jim Wells.  We see the master at work, a grizzled old guy, probably a WWII vet. ^[1] In his work-clothes and work-hat with the bill facing the right direction, he is efficiently pulling levers and checking gauges like an artist.  Oh no wait, here comes Jim — wearing a suit, a fancy hat, and with a trench-coat over his arm.  He is heading out at 5 pm, leaving the other nameless poor sap to do the real work.  Where’s the Shop Steward!  Wait, the boss is gone — where’s the Wine Steward!Jim is going to see the play’s costume designer Cathy Parker, but it is a social call.  Being of different sexes, they have to meet in private to avoid the stigma.  He rings the bell and Cathy comes down the stairs with a terrible limp.  That’s not the sad part.

They are actually a nice couple.  They have a nicer banter than we usually see on SFT.  This is a terrible print, but Cathy looks amazing in that slender dress.  Cathy’s 6-year old son Tommy unexpectedly comes out of his room.  So the beautiful, single woman has a child.  While a downer, that is not the sad part either.

Actually, Jim knew about Tommy and had been looking forward to meeting him — what a guy!   He has even brought Tommy a present.  Cathy had clearly been dreading this moment.  She introduces them.  Jim kneels and extends his hand.   With a blank, straight-ahead stare, Tommy feels around for Jim’s hand.  Tommy is blind.  OK, that is sad, but just the beginning.

Put’r there! No, here.

Cathy helps Tommy open the present Jim brought.  Jim protests and tries to stop her from unwrapping it.  It is a coloring book and crayons.  It just got sadder.

Jim tries to come up with an alternate description of the gift.  He goes off with a crazy story about wadding up the pages, and the crayons being sticks to bat them around.  Cathy breaks down in tears, but it is partially due to there being a racist Crayola labelled FLESH in the box. ^[4] The scene is cringe-inducing — and for a change with SFT, that is not a criticism.  It is a terribly sad, awkward situation — would I have handled it any better?

The next day at the theater, Cathy explains what happened.  Her family was in an automobile accident which killed her husband, broke her back, and left Tommy blind.  The other driver was not hurt, and was even able to swim like a fish and run like the wind right after the accident.  After a few days in a fake neck brace, he was well enough to be re-elected to the Senate. ^[5]  BTW, as they lounge around talking, the old guy is in the background working.

Jim’s college roommate from Dartmouth, Roger Kiley, now runs the Optic Clinic at Mercy Hospital.  He sets Tommy up with an appointment.  Dr. Kiley examines him twice and finds that the optic nerve is completely destroyed.  Jim suggests some experimentation, but Kiley says he’s not into that.

Back at the theater, we find out the old guy is named Bill.  Jim tells Bill he is taking Tommy fishing.  Bill tells him how, as a kid, he used to capture worms for bait.  At night, he would hose down the yard, turn on a lantern, and the worms would come to him.  Hearing that the worms could detect the light without eyes, Jim has an idea!

He calls Dr. Kiley and tells him about the worms.  Kiley is surprisingly knowledgeable about our vermicular-American friends.  He explains that they have photo-sensitive cells in their epidermis.  He speculates that the “soft tender skin of a child” might also be sensitive.

The next morning, Kiley does a brief, preliminary examination.  Holy crap, did he have Tommy take his shirt off for an eye exam? ^[3]  Then Kiley says, “Would you like to see me tomorrow?”  To the blind kid.  Really?  Is this what they teach at Dartmouth?  Waaait a minute — Dartmouth Medical doesn’t even have a Dept. of Ophthalmology, Optometry, or Otolaryngology (although that last one is irrelevant since it is an Ear, Nose, Throat, and Wallet doctor).

After a few more shirtless — seriously — exams, Kiley theorizes that Tommy is not sensitive to light, but is just feeling the warmth.  Jim suggests they try different colors of light which have different wavelengths.  In time, Tommy can distinguish colors and see movements that interrupt the light.  Through his skin.  Right.  The end.

I’m happy that any progress at all was made, but this isn’t going to help him with Playboy ^[2] in a few years.

Once you get through the sad parts, this is actually one of the better SFTs.  Jim and Cathy had nice chemistry, Tommy had that thousand yard stare nailed, they had a scientific basis for the story — even if it was Ludacris, and the kid does end up a little better than he started.

I rate it 20/50.

Other Stuff:

• [1]  Ha, at this point, WWII was only 11 years ago!  Well, war does things to a man.
• [2]  I really wanted to reference Pornhub.  But by the time that was invented, he wouldn’t care anymore.  In 1956, Playboy had been around for 3 years and the photography was not yet the god-awful mess it would become in 20 years.
• [3]  You’re thinking that the “soft tender skin” might be on his chest.  That makes sense, but Kiley seems to only be flashing the lights in a band across his eyes like they used to shine on Captain Kirk in Star Trek.  Plus, they make a point of saying the worm’s sensitive cells are on “what passes for a head.”  And in the last test and in a demonstration for Cathy, he is fully shirted.
• [4]  The article says the Flesh Crayon was discontinued in 1962.  Abalone, I remember them and it wasn’t no 1962!  I got yer flesh crayon right here, hee-hee!  Wait, that’s not very impressive.
• [5]  I will never forgive that asshole.
• It just seemed too creepy to caption that last picture “Tommy, do you like movies about gladiators?”