And so am I, it seems. I will not be writing about death and disease this morning, so, everyone, breathe a sigh of relief. I will mention, however, that my sister will be in London on Saturday for a couple of days. She’s an academic and is combining her trip to Iran and France with a lecture on 19th century female literary figures. Of course I am worried about her safety, but I think this will be the end of hostilities for the time being in England. All war is tragic and cruel, but this kind of warfare seems to be the most tragic, cruel, and cowardly of all.
So I have joined the online DVD rental company called Netflix. It’s pretty cool, but I won’t go into it, because they can advertise by themselves. This means that I can finally indulge myself in a real guilty pleasure, one that I acquired during my first year of sobriety, waiting around for meetings to start: The X-Files. I was lucky to be able to catch 2, not 1, episode every day except Saturday, starting at 5PM. After the X-files, I watched “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” with no less enthusiasm. So my weekdays were scheduled and structures along 2 things. My meetings came first, then X-Files. It really worked. I think I ended up watching most of the last 2 seasons, before Robert Patrick took David Duchovny’s place. But really, how can you replace a character as quirky and funny as a guy named ‘Fox Mulder’? What were they thinking?
So anyway, I now have the first 3 discs of season 1, and am having great fun noticing the low budget offerings of a fledgling sci-fi detective show. One thing I saw right off the bat was that Mulder has to always request a car and sign it out before he leaves the building. Good continuity, certainly, but in later episodes, he and Scully are wholly independent from much of the goings-on in the FBI.
So, with 8 seasons to watch, that’s a whole lotta Mulder and Scully. But without commercials the episodes are only 40 minutes long. That should take me, let’s see…
Johnnyboy