Sunday, March 20, 2011

Late Night TV does not agree with me


I think Horatio Caine is stalking me. I'm used to stalkers, really - The Man was one in a former life. But late night television, more specifically re-runs of CSI Miami have me dreaming about Horatio and the fact that he reminds me of a childhood game. And besides, it's always on in one form or another.

Does anyone remember the oldie but goodie "What Time Is It Mr. Wolf"? I had to explain the premise of the game to The Man. Apparently pick-up hockey and baseball were the only games worth considering in Gaspe. But for me What Time Is It Mr. Wolf was the epitome of childhood games, up there with Red Rover and Hide and Seek since it was quick to organize in the 20 to 30 minutes of recess time we got at the local elementary school. It needed no props like Dodge Ball and it hinged on our personal level of fear. I was a level 10, apparently.

That level rose as I was watching yet another re-run of the sunglass-wielding Horatio Caine and his team of CSI specialists. Cue drama: Horatio looks across the water, raising his hand to his face to remove the sunglasses ever so slowly and deliberately to deliver one of his gems. "Someone's going to pay for this, Mr.  Wolf..." And what time is it?

It could be 10 o'clock, 11 o'clock, 2 o'clock but it's the dreaded "Dinnertime, ARRRGH" that would have me screaming to get away since meal times did not follow the regular schedule. It could come at anytime and you could be Mr. Wolf's next meal if you had freakishly short arms and legs like good 'ol Scribe. It's true. Just ask Anasatan and Mags.

Horatio calls on Mr. Wolf a lot, I think  for the power in  the name and I'm fully expecting Greg Wolf to growl at Horatio "Well, Mr. Caine, it's dinner time" and kids, grannies, old men fishing on the pier would run willy nilly down to the board walk, arms flailing, fishing poles and bait forgotten, mothers and young children being pushed out of the way... in all, pandemonium.

It hasn't happened yet, but I'm on the lookout. It's always dinnertime somewhere in the world, and my legs need as much notice as possible.

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