There comes a point in any person’s life that they have to admit to an goofy interest that they have, no matter how embarrassing it is.
I’m an unrepentant fan of old TV. Don’t care so much about the 1950s or ’60s, or, really, the ’90s, when I was in ‘the upper grades’, but I’m in love with the ’70s and ’80s. Unrepentantly.
I feel bad for Jenn, I make her watch all this old stuff. I’m not even trying to impress her any more, it’s just a habit, and she’s getting into it too. Though I don’t think she’ll ever be as into it as I am. Who could blame her? Even I admit how cheesy TV from that era can be. We watched an episode of Columbo last night – usually fairly high quality comparatively – that was UTTER cheese. Some executive must have had the idea, hey, Columbo is a big success after its first year – I know, let’s send Columbo to London! Think of the scenes! Columbo next to Big Ben! Columbo trying to understand all those funny accents! Much British!
And it was all that. All the actors, Peter Falk included, were chewing the scenes up like they hadn’t had a proper dinner, and I kept apologizing for it. Jenn has seen some good Columbo, but not enough to know that it’s really quite good. I’m going to have to show some more Season One episodes after that one.
What’s funny was, we watched Columbo because we couldn’t get Hill Street Blues to stream.