Watching Burke's Law now after so many years I summarize it this way: Total nonsense, but great, great fun!

The "murder mysteries" are a joke. Burke interviews about five people, usually only two of these offer any real information, and the rest are just shoehorned in as roles for guest stars. There ultimately is only one or two actual clues dug up before Burke mostly intuits who the murderer is.

However, it's all carried off with panache and style. It's great to see the aging Hollywood actors and actresses playing the eccentric parts given them, even when they add nothing to the plot. The elegant, young, early-1960s babes are gorgeous eye candy. And it's a hoot seeing many soon-to-be TV stars like William Shatner, Barbara Eden, and Carolyn Jones just before they get their breakout roles.

For all its faults, Burke's Law is still one of my all-time favorite TV series.
Osgood Peabody wrote:
And hey, don't hold out on us... I for one would love to hear your Bat Masterson story!

OK, but remember -- as Art Baker used to say back in the '50s, "You Asked For It!"

Gene Barry played Old-West lawman Bat Masterson on a half-hour black-and-white show that ran on NBC from 1958 to 1961. This was but one of a score of TV Westerns that dominated the airwaves of the era. I was not immune to the charms of a good Western show, but at that age my tastes ran towards the Lone Ranger, Roy Rogers, and The Range Rider. More "adult" oaters like Gunsmoke, Have Gun Will Travel, and Bat Masterson bored me.

Coincidentally, 1958 to 1961 were the same years that my Mom & Dad were on a Sunday afternoon bowling league. I know this tale happened during that time, but I can't narrow it down more than that, so I was between 10 and 12 years old.

The bowling alley was located in the basement of one of the first "shopping centers" in America. Upstairs there was a J.C Penney's, a shoe store, a Kresge's five-and-dime, a barber shop, etc. These were all closed on Sunday's, as most businesses were back in the Happy Days. Thankfully, the godless Gray Drug Store was open 7-days-a-week. I say "thankfully" because I would tag along to the bowling alley each week, and run upstairs to spend the two or three dimes I had on comic books. YAY!

Gray Drug also had a nice toy aisle that I perused after I'd read my purchases and had nothing else to do while waiting for my parents to finish their endless bowling. There were tons of stuff on those shelves that I would have loved to own. I ached for the dart guns, airplanes, bags of plastic soldiers, rockets, Zorro cape-and-mask sets, etc. I saw there each week!

One particular Sunday I was standing before some hypnotic treasure imagining how great it would be to call it my own, when a man walked up and stood next to me. [A couple of decades later, this story would have ended up with my face on a milk carton, but this was during the Eisenhauer administration – if this guy wasn’t a Commie, I was safe.] To my recollection, the gentleman was indeed a gentleman: well dressed in a suit and tie, distinguished-looking, and elderly (looking back, he might have only been in his 50s, but at my age he seemed old, old, old).

He looked down at me and asked loudly, “Do you watch Bat Masterson, young man?” Being shy, I quietly began to reply, “Well, not really, I. . .” With a flourish, he reached over and picked up a toy replica of the cane Bat Masterson carried on the TV show. Holding it high above his head, he called across to the store cashier and said, “Put this on my account!” She enthusiastically replied, “Yes, sir!” The man placed the cane in my hands, turned on his heel, and strode away.

I stared down unbelieving at this unbidden gift from heaven for a few seconds, then looked up and viewed the dart guns, airplanes, bags of plastic soldiers, rockets, Zorro cape-and-mask sets, etc., and thought, “What the. . . out of all this great stuff, he gives me a crappy Bat Masterson cane?!?!”

Who was this guy who had a credit account at a drug store so that he could buy toys for kids he didn’t know? I never thought to inquire with the cashier, and I never saw him after this. To this day it’s still a mystery.

Here’s what the cane looked like (the hat must have been sold separately).

image

When I came into the bowling alley with the cane and a wild story, I’m surprised my parents didn’t think I just shop-lifted it. Maybe they did – I dunno.

I took the cane home, stuck it in a closet and ignored it. Whenever we moved, it came along with me and was put in another out-of-the-way place to be ignored some more. Over the years, all the toys I really liked got played to death, broken, or just lost in the sands of time. Wouldn’t you know it, the toy I didn’t want is still here with me looking nearly new. I might be able to sell this relic on eBay for a pretty penny, but I prefer to keep it as a souvenir of this bizarre story.