Still fighting the nasty flu, although it’s a bit better than yesterday.
Sad news from a couple of days ago. It looks like the Carousel Dinner Theater in Akron is closing tonight, after 35 years. I’ve seen 2 great shows there (Fiddler on the Roof and Seven Brides for Seven Brothers); it’s a shame.
As I continue my recuperation on the sofa, I leave you with this pictorial review of 2008. And this one. What a year it was…
Fink, back underground
PS – Happy Birthday to Helen!
However, the stomach flu is definitely *not* cool. Ugh. It’s been a long night. But hey, the show must go on.
Last night, before the nausea and other horrible things slammed me to the mat, I made a wonderful discovery: hulu.com has classic TV shows, in their entirety. How cool is that?
I found every episode of The Time Tunnel, a series I watched faithfully when I was in the third grade or so (alas, the show only lasted one season).
Its premise centered around two scientists who run a government-funded laboratory beneath the Arizona desert, dedicated to the exploration of time travel. In the first episode, a senator comes to check on the facility to decide whether or not to pull its funding, because the scientists and military personnel stationed at the huge, futuristic lab have only sent animals into the tunnel — never to see them again.
Seven billion dollars in the hole, and in danger of being shut down, one of the scientists (Dr. Tony Newman, played by dreamy James Darren) decides to send himself through the tunnel to prove it can work on humans, and thereby save the project.
Then it all goes wrong.
Turns out, Tony is sent back in time all right, and he even arrives safely on the deck of a cruise ship. Only problem: the ship’s name is Titanic, and it’s the 14th of April, 1912. So the other scientist, for some inexplicable reason, gets dressed up in period clothing and tries to go after him to save him. Now they’re both trapped and can’t get back.
I thought it was tremendously cool back then, though. I loved all of Irwin Allen’s shows (Lost in Space, Land of the Giants, Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea). They scared me, but had cute boys.
Anyway, check out these stills I pulled from the first episode:
OK, back to the sofa with me. But there’s one good thing — I thought today was Saturday. I have more weekend left to get over this thing before school starts Monday.
Fink out.
Happy 2009 to you, my dear fiends.
It’s going to be a difficult, challenging, uncertain, but hopefully happy year for me. And I’d be fibbing if I said I wasn’t concerned about 2009 for the country as a whole. But, we shall overcome. We have in the past.
Truth is, we have many reasons to celebrate and look forward to the new year. You all know what your reasons are, and I’m confident they will continue to make you happy and grateful. We tend to complain a lot, when we’ve really no right to. I guess I should speak for myself: I complain a lot when I have no right to. I got no business griping when I have a great family who love me, a job I actually enjoy, good health, and fantastic friends.
What more is there to life than your family, friends and health? To me, that’s the perfect recipe for Happy. Well, almost perfect. I could do with a friggin’ decent salary, but hey…I have no right to complain, n’est-ce pas?
Happy Happy! I heart you all.
You may already know this, but before Hugh Laurie rocketed to superstardom in House on American television, he was half of a comedy duo over in England. Silly stuff.
He also plays a decent piano and guitar. Good singer, too.
Here’s a great video from A Bit of Fry & Laurie (lovingly referred to by the British public as ABOFAL), on the subject of the importance of the English language. I know some people don’t appreciate British humor, but I think it’s hilarious:
(Digression #1) This is hysterical. Michael (RtB poster and drummer friend in Florida) found a picture from what I think was our freshman year, judging from my memory of the dress. This would have been, what…1974-75? Check out my pointless shawl (but I did love it so) and Michael’s towhead blond hair (which, through the miracle of the peroxide weave, I now have myself). Thanks for sending that, Michael! Oh yeah, almost forgot — here it is.
(Digression #2) Last night, the Thriller and I had dinner while watching the news. In an interview, the “plus size” model who won on the reality show America’s Next Top Model said that she’s happy being larger. Larger. She wears a size 10.
Size 10 is now “plus size.” I’m going to shoot myself now.
Wait, check that. I’m actually going to meet my pal Bando for breakfast at Panera. Yay – I haven’t seen her in a long time.
Happy Tuesday. And oh yeah, happy anniversary to the Fink and the Thriller. 
…Phil and Romeo are gone.
If you root for a consistently losing team, you know the feeling. The only term I can think of for it is “hopeful unease.” Now that Bill Cowher is apparently out of the running to replace Romeo as the head coach of the Browns, I fear that owner Randy Lerner and the Berea Boys will do what they’ve always done: just find whoever is available and offer him a contract.
~
Of course, every Browns fan with a shred of loyalty will still hope against hope that whoever they do hire will change things around and start winning.
But if history is any indicator, we’re screwed there, too.
I mean, the Browns had Bill Belichick when he sucked as a head coach. They fired Marty Schottenheimer because we didn’t make the Super Bowl (was it bad coaching that caused “The Fumble” and “The Drive?” I think not). The Browns were sold off — lock, stock and barrel — by Art Modell. At least we got to keep the name, colors, mascot and archives. But lately, it seems that’s all we have left.
Still, hope springs eternal in the hearts of those accustomed to saying, “Wait till next year.” In my 30-year tenure as a Browns fan, and 20-some years rooting for the Indians, I can tell you that although it does get old (the constant disappointment), it never really gets old enough to make me throw the teams out the window. I still love them. Say what you want about how college ball is “more exciting” or “done for reasons other than money” (although I could argue that point and win) — I still love pro sports, and I am an unequivocal, shameful contributor to the outrageous salaries its players pull down. Meh. It is what it is.
Hey, I get to see Jakey in exactly one hour. I better get a move on into the showers. Yay!
Go Browns. Go get someone decent this time. Sheesh, Randy.