Lately, I’ve been absent – a fugitive from the social and literary world, plunging myself into escapist entertainment. I haven’t posted here in, gosh.. a week or more.. and a lot of other things have slipped off to the side of the road as I’ve whizzed merrily along in my mirth-mobile, randomly running down responsibilities like they were so much roadkill.
Blame HULU.COM
The latest stream of latent entertainment that’s rendered me useless is that classic cop show, ADAM-12. I started watching at the beginning – “Log 1: The Impossible Mission” and I haven’t been able to stop.
When you’re dreaming you don’t usually know it, and I didn’t know I was dreaming when the knock on the door resounded throughout our tiny household. It sent a slight chill down my spine, because I somehow innately knew who’d be standing there when I opened the door. I was right.
It was Officer Malloy with his young and eager partner, Officer Reed.
They looked as though they’d just stepped out of 1968. No belt radios – too bulky for cops to carry around back then – and their uniforms were LAPD circa late sixties. They weren’t in black and white but their color was off.. just something about it, you know? It wasn’t quite natural, with its muddy texture. I could see their car; that spiffy little Plymouth Belvedere parked behind them. The car was black and white, but that’s a cop car for ya.
Malloy spoke up..
“Sir, we’d like to ask you a few questions.”
I knew what they were here for. It was this blog. It hadn’t been updated, and that’s just criminal. There are people out there counting on me and they’d been let down. I should go to jail. 1968 jail, full of hippie radicals and druggies hopped up on bennies.
I looked over Malloy and Reed’s uniforms. I took a lingering glance at the car parked behind them. Then I said the only thing that came to mind and, even though it was stating the obvious, it seemed to work..
“Guys, you’re a little late, aren’t ya?”
They glanced at each other and seemed to mull this over for a few seconds. Then, with a shrug, Malloy extended his hand for a shake. I half expected this to be the “shake my hand but then snap the cuffs on me” ploy, but I really had no choice but to accept his hopefully sincere gesture of apology. Where would I run too? And I’d seen enough episodes now to know that Reed would take me down within twenty feet. Long legs on that guy.
“Sir, you make a good point. We’ll be on our way.”
His handshake was firm. No handcuff trick; just a meaningful grasp that spoke more than he’d said verbally during our brief exchange. They strolled to the Plymouth and, just as they got in and cleared this call, the radio crackled with the voice of that sexy sounding dispatcher – the one who was ALWAYS on duty when they were.
“One Adam 12, see the man with the gun. Knives and chains involved. 415 domestic code three, at 2730 La Brea.”
Off they sped, the tires of the Belvedere squealing with glee at the anticipation of sliding up to a fight, the blue smoke boiling off of them as the sprightly officers lept out and joined the foray.
I drifted off to sleep and mulled over the encounter I’d just had with my own conscience, knowing full well I’d better act because if I didn’t, then next time I might actually be hauled off to the pokie. The 1968 pokie, with color tv burglars and bank robbers in hats and ties.
I like Reed and Malloy. But I’d rather avoid future encounters, so here I am.. posting. But if you’ve been posting too much yourself and need a break, then here they are.. in the first episode ever.
God bless Hulu.com.. but only in the US.
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