Hawkeye by the fire
So I'm sitting here by the fire -- relaxing from a long day -- watching "M*A*S*H."
I've waxed poetically before about my favorite "dramedy," so I'll not go too far down that primrose path tonight. Quickly, then: this is one of the most well-written, intelligent, heartfelt shows ever presented on American television. Sometime I'll tell you what I remember about watching the famous last episode with my dad when I was a wee lad.
I've slowly but surely made my way through all 11 years (and 251 episodes) of the series thanks to the DVD releases. Finished that up last year.
Dinner conversation the other night made me think about Alan Alda, so I've been watching re-runs in the evenings. It helps me unwind.
Life is good. I was surprised (pleasantly) tonight with a rather thoughtful invitation, one about which I'm quite excited. Thoughtful gestures are the richest kind.
It's cold outside. But I like it. Sitting here as the flames flicker across my darkened living room, I'd like to stay here awhile.
Morning comes early, though, and with it promises another busy day. But "M*A*S*H" by the fire as a Tuesday slips away seems the perfect way to gear up for it.