My sixth grade english teacher, Ms. Hughes, loved Tom Selleck. On the first day of school that year, she announced herself as "Ms." Hughes, emphasis on Ms., and declared her love for all things Tom Selleck. She was just over five feet tall, with dark tight curls cut into a short Pat Benatar 'do. It seemed strange to my ten-year old self that she revealed her obsession over Tom Selleck -- we were far too young to be interested in Tom Selleck ourselves, and I had the distinct impression that it was all a misdirected attempt to relate to us while teaching sentence patterns for some standarized test (e.g., "I love Thomas Magnum" equals subject-verb-direct object).
When I was in high school, I finally started to see the attraction of Magnum PI. During the off-season for sports, I watched Magnum PI religiously at 3 pm. I wouldn't answer the phone during that hour. I just enjoyed Magnum -- admittedly a strange attraction considering the release of Top Gun and the infamous volleyball scene that enthralled most normal girls my age during this time. In law school, I went to the gym and ran on the treadmill, just so I could watch Magnum PI, my own apartment lacking the civility of either cable or air conditioning.
Unlike many shows that I obsessed over in my youth -- 21 Jump Street comes to mind -- I still love Magnum PI (or "Magnum, p.i." as it is properly spelled). Watching Tom Selleck parade around in his short shorts and Ferrari, or watching Higgins pretend that he's not Robin Masters, but instead just a haughty groundskeeper, is still an antidote for whatever ails me. (In fact, I suspect that my love for Magnum is what indirectly caused the courthouse softball team during my clerkship to wear hawaiian shirts as our uniforms.)
Tonight was no different. I went out this evening -- the first time all week -- and came home feeling a little wonky from the combination of fondue and wine and beer. Never a good idea. But, when I got home, my TIVO was recording Magnum, and all felt right in the universe. After a several year hiatus, Magnum is back on cable on the Sleuth network.
In spite of the wonky stomach, it was a good night. I still haven't done much all week -- excepting my efforts to learn how to dance after watching Oprah yesterday -- and was glad to be out on the town. I said goodbye to another friend this evening, a trend that is the only thing tainting the joy I have otherwise been experiencing since leaving employed life. For our last night on the town, we went to a wine bar on the UES and had some fondue. The people sitting at the table next to us were lawyers, I think, and it was all I could do not to yell "SUCKA" as one of the women was obsessively checking her blackberry at 11 pm on a Friday night. (I had the same urge to yell "Sucka" when I saw a former coworker at a bar on my way home tonight.)
But, I digress. Back to Magnum. If you can't quit your job and run off to the ends of the earth, I recommend adding some Magnum PI to your life. If nothing else, it cures all desire to yell "sucka" at random passers by...well, almost.
When I was in high school, I finally started to see the attraction of Magnum PI. During the off-season for sports, I watched Magnum PI religiously at 3 pm. I wouldn't answer the phone during that hour. I just enjoyed Magnum -- admittedly a strange attraction considering the release of Top Gun and the infamous volleyball scene that enthralled most normal girls my age during this time. In law school, I went to the gym and ran on the treadmill, just so I could watch Magnum PI, my own apartment lacking the civility of either cable or air conditioning.
Unlike many shows that I obsessed over in my youth -- 21 Jump Street comes to mind -- I still love Magnum PI (or "Magnum, p.i." as it is properly spelled). Watching Tom Selleck parade around in his short shorts and Ferrari, or watching Higgins pretend that he's not Robin Masters, but instead just a haughty groundskeeper, is still an antidote for whatever ails me. (In fact, I suspect that my love for Magnum is what indirectly caused the courthouse softball team during my clerkship to wear hawaiian shirts as our uniforms.)
Tonight was no different. I went out this evening -- the first time all week -- and came home feeling a little wonky from the combination of fondue and wine and beer. Never a good idea. But, when I got home, my TIVO was recording Magnum, and all felt right in the universe. After a several year hiatus, Magnum is back on cable on the Sleuth network.
In spite of the wonky stomach, it was a good night. I still haven't done much all week -- excepting my efforts to learn how to dance after watching Oprah yesterday -- and was glad to be out on the town. I said goodbye to another friend this evening, a trend that is the only thing tainting the joy I have otherwise been experiencing since leaving employed life. For our last night on the town, we went to a wine bar on the UES and had some fondue. The people sitting at the table next to us were lawyers, I think, and it was all I could do not to yell "SUCKA" as one of the women was obsessively checking her blackberry at 11 pm on a Friday night. (I had the same urge to yell "Sucka" when I saw a former coworker at a bar on my way home tonight.)
But, I digress. Back to Magnum. If you can't quit your job and run off to the ends of the earth, I recommend adding some Magnum PI to your life. If nothing else, it cures all desire to yell "sucka" at random passers by...well, almost.
1 comment:
I wonder if she knew my third grade teacher, Mrs. Decombaz, who also had a huge crush on Tom Sellack, and also was short with short curly hair. Mrs. Decombaz even got roses one day that she said were from Tom.
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