Saturday, November 26, 2011


Tonight I was at dinner with many people from 'my' generation. That is to say, people born somewhere (to be generous) from 1960 to 1970 or so.

Eventually, the objective of dinner was fulfilled, business was complete, and we settled down to yarn and tell stories as old people (haha) do. We resurrected many ghosts, even among those not dead: Mannix, Ironside, Hawaii Five-O, Knight Rider, The Wild Wild West, the inimitable Lynda Carter in Wonder Woman (and the forgotten Joanna Kara Cameron in The Secrets of Isis before that), glimpses of Steven Seagal in his prime...

The thing is that we were all acolytes at the dawn of colour television. We had participated in the nightly rituals of tuning the old black-and-white CRT displays, reducing hiss and static rain, twiddling the antenna, and even having our access blocked by the TV cabinet being locked. And now we are old, and that particular altar is no more.

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