Where am I Now?

I have a confession to make: I was a real fan of the A-Team when I was young and marginally stupider than I am today. Everybody has a weakness, an Achilles heel in the taste department. For some it is Battlestar Galactica. For others it is Springsteen. There is no explaining taste and I am not here to judge (even if I am, outside the binary confines of this forum shaking my head in wonderment and despair).

We all know that George Peppard is dead, Mr. T is immortal, and the skinny crazy-acting guy goes around acting crazy and skinny on other programs. I often wondered, once the show was cancelled, and Battlestar Galactica (Mk. I) was cancelled, what had become of Dirk Benedict. "How could a man of such obvious talent go without notable and highly remunerative work for so long?" is a question I would ask myself, and others, with alarming frequency. The answer, alas, was not forthcoming.

Many share a fondness for watching reality shows. At our office there is a "Survivor Pool" which does not involve pirhanas, or even Chilean Sea Bass. While I liken the fondness for viewing these shows to sharing a fondness for popping bursters on the backs of strangers and wiping the excreta on one's eyeballs I recognize my views are in the minority. I am not here to judge etc... but what is the deal with this shit? Do we not have our own lives to lead? Do we really give a shit which unemployed actor/beautiful person is the last contestant in or on the choir/monastery/18th century farm/Faroe Islands/tropical island/houseboat/house/outhouse/or is the only contestant able to withstand the taste of Joe Rogan's excrement? I will admit to an inability to get it. Perhaps I am missing the opportunity to have my life enriched by this species of, um, "entertainment". Yeah, that's it.

If that is the case, then surely now is the opportune time for me to become enriched. Observe. Now, if I could only get the BBC here at home...

PMO