Ricky Frost is minding his own business tapping out a tune on the table as if he were playing a piano. Unfortunately, he is in prison where that translates as “break my fingers, please” with an encore of “thank you sir, may I have another.” A fight breaks out nearby and Ricky stupidly tries to help a friend.
He gets a minor wound in the hand that is a little baffling. As a pianist, his hands are his life. Yet, at no point is he overly concerned about this wound to his hand. There is no suggestion that this could end his piano playing days. Given that, why was the wound even written to be on his hand?
The doctor worries that Ricky is not fitting in. He has pissed off the white gang, and “even though you play like Ray Charles, you hardly qualify for the black gang.” Ricky refuses to stand by while others get knifed. The wound gets him a cushy work detail.
He is handed off to a grossly miscast Norman Fell as Eddie O’Hara. Maybe having been there 50 years, you get special privileges. He has a hat, smokes a cigar and is wearing a vest even though the last thing I would want to be in prison is a dandy.
Eddie: You’re the piano player. Knocked off your girlfriend.
Ricky: She was my former girlfriend. They found her in a car that had been stolen from me but I couldn’t prove any of that.
That exchange bugged me, but it’s not worth dissecting. The bishop is coming to the prison, and O’Hara wonders if Ricky can play Ave Maria on an old piano they have in the attic. It was a gift from O’Hara’s old pal Micky O’Shaughnessy around the time he disappeared, back when major appliances were allowed as gifts in prison. And there’s nothing guards encourage more than a huge supply of unguarded piano wire in prison.
Ricky opens up the keyboard. He finds sheet music for The Maple Leaf Rag in his stool — heehee! As he begins playing, he is transported back to 1899. He is a member of a band dressed like Sgt. Pepper playing a concert in a park. When he stops playing for a second, he is transported back to the prison attic. Later in the yard, he asks O’Hara how to avoid trouble.
Ricky: How do you get along in here?
O’Hara: I believe in the 11th command-ment. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you . . . but do it unto them first!
This sounds clever, but makes no sense in multiple ways. Again, let’s just move on. The next time Ricky is able to get to the piano, he plays the WWI song Over There. He is transported back to a bar in 1917 where dough-boys are waiting to ship out. He pockets a box of matches and manages to sip a beer while playing with one hand. When he removes both hands from the keyboard, he re-materializes back in prison.
While the doctor is removing the stitches from his hand, Ricky tells him about the piano. The doctor, understandably, is dubious. However:
Dr. Puckett: If I were smart, would I be working here?
Bloody hell! You’re a doctor! OK, you’re not doing cancer research, but you earned a medical degree! Maybe it’s time to point out this teleplay is from a writer with only one other credit on IMDb — another TZ segment which did not interest me enough to post about.
Apparently Ricky has freer run of the prison than Michael Scofield, because he is soon back in the attic with the piano. Today’s selection is Someone to Watch Over Me (1928).  O’Hara comes and Ricky asks him if he would like to go back to face O’Shaughnessy. He proves it is possible by showing him the box of matches he pocketed. He says, “I was there yesterday, the Shamrock Club in Chicago.”
What the hell? He got those matches when he transported to the WWI bar. One of the soldiers referred to being from 103rd street which sounds a lot more like New York than Chicago. He offers to take O’Hara with him, but ends up being transported by himself.
O’Shaughnessy is critical of Ricky’s ivory tickling skillz. He’s not crazy about the piano, either. He orders a lackey to send it to young O’Hara at the state pen. Then he sits beside Ricky and takes over the piano playing. Since there was never a break of hands on the keyboard, O’Shaughnessy is now the driver and Ricky does not fade away. Once O’Shaughnessy quits playing, he transports to the prison where old O’Hara punches him out for framing him and stealing his gal. Ricky is a free man, and goes on to tickle the ivories of O’Shaughnessy’s flapper gal. 
Despite some gaps in math, dialogue, casting, and logic, this is a winner. It takes a simple, high concept story and plays it out with justice being meted out all around. Joe Penny has had a huge career, but he seems like such a natural talent, I’m surprised he wasn’t in more prestigious shows and movies. Even though I felt Norman Fell was miscast as O’Hara, he’s still Norman Fell and that counts for something. Another great asset is that, since this episode centered on certain songs, there was less opportunity for the awful TZ scoring to ruin the episode.
This is never going to be considered a classic, but it would have been a worthy episode on the classic 1960s series.
-  The sheet music for Someone to Watch Over Me says 1928. Since it was written in 1926, I take it we are to believe 1928 is the date Ricky goes to.
- O’Hara has been in jail for 50 years, or since 1936. So how did O’Shaughnessy send him the piano at the prison 8 years before he got there?
-  By ivories, I mean boobs. Just to be clear, boobs. Under the B, boobs. Which probably didn’t get much sunlight. So, ivory-like.
-  So this girl ended up banging all 3 guys. Flapper, indeed.
- Thank God for CTL-F or O’Shaughnessy would never have been mentioned by name.
- I would encourage people to click the Maple Leaf Rag link above because it is very entertaining. Here is a more convenient link, but to be honest, it is to pictures of Emily Ratajkowski.