This is Jim Rockford...

I know, I know. I'm neglecting "Dr. Who."

But Netflix Instant has "The Rockford Files." And, uh, yeah. The good doctor can wait a day or two.

Well, what gave me the idea was watching a few episodes of "Harry O," the underrated 1970s TV series starring the underrated David Janssen as private detective Harry Orwell. My new friend Tom told me if I liked "The Fugitive" (which you know I do), that I would love "Harry O." Remembered seeing it as a kid, but only could recall that Janssen's character lived on the beach and had to leave the police force because he took a bullet in the back. I'll write a separate post on the show later.

So, anyway, seeing Harry O on the beach made me think of Jim Rockford. Surfed over to Netflix. Sure enough, there he was.

It's good fodder for late night fun, which is where I found the show in the beginning, late night reruns. Used to love it when Rockford would slam his Pontiac Firebird in reverse, floor it, then do a 180-degree turn while chasing the bad guys. I liked Rockford for some of the same reasons I like Thomas Magnum. He tries to talk his way out of sticky wickets and gets beat up a lot. James Garner was born for this role. I like Rockford even better than Maverick.

The pilot episode co-starred Lindsay Wagner and a different guy playing Jim's dad. Noah Beery Jr. showed up in the second show.

Remember the hilarious messages left on Rockford's answering machine? I hear these became a bit of a bother to the writers, as Norm Peterson's entrance lines would be a decade later on "Cheers." Ah, well. It was worth it.

Stephen J. Cannell produced and co-created "Rockford" with Roy Huggins (who created "The Fugitive"). I liked most of Cannell's shows. Yes, that includes "The Greatest American Hero."

But there's just something about these '70s detective shows. Especially the ones with a sense of humor. As much as I love the original "Hawaii Five-O," Steve McGarrett didn't crack many one-liners. "Book 'em, Danno!" hardly brought the house down.

That's OK. Jim Rockford more than made up for it.

Sue me. I'm stuck in the '70s.

GREAT blog

Don't miss what has become a daily read for me, writer Ken Levine's fantastic blog, which can be found here.

Named one of the best blogs of 2011 by Time magazine, Ken's daily musings will make you laugh just as hard as his scripts did for classic shows like "M*A*S*H," "Cheers" and "Frasier." Usually working with his writing partner David Isaacs, Levine co-wrote some of the best episodes of "M*A*S*H" and the duo later served as executive story editors for television's best (and only) situation tragedy. Yes, they also had a hand in the promising debacle "AfterMASH."

But, they also had a hand in creating that classic episode of "Cheers" called "Breaking Out is Hard to Do," in which Frasier and Lilith's kid finally speaks his first word.

In his spare time, Levine fills in on Seattle Mariners TV coverage as a play-by-play announcer. I think he's got my dream job -- writer of classic sitcoms, creator of an award-winning blog, baseball announcer, possessor of one fantastic wit.

Levine is also the author of a book I just bought for a whopping $2.99 on Amazon's Kindle store called "Where the Hell Am I? Trips that I've Survived."

Don't miss this blog. Ken will make you appreciate even more than you already do the days when sitcoms were intelligent and witty and TV networks actually shelled out a few dollars for good writing.

24 hours in Boston

BOSTON, July 25 -- John Updike once called Fenway Park "a lyric little bandbox of a ballpark.

"Everything is painted green and seems in curiously sharp focus, like the inside of an old-fashioned peeping-type Easter egg."

So it is. The Fens is the oldest park in the majors. It is shoved into an old part of Beantown, on Yawkey Way, complete with its funky triangle, the Pesky Pole and that hypnotic Green Monster.

This is a cathedral. This is the greatest place to watch the greatest game.

Oh, and what a perfect night. The Sox win 7-2. Big Papi and Adam LaRoche hit dingers, the latter over that beautiful wall.

An hour before game time, I was sitting in "You've got to be kidding me" seats behind the Sox dugout, throwing back a hot dog dabbed with mustard and ketchup, when I gazed toward first base.

Then I see her.

Yes, Heidi Watney, New England Sports Network reporter. My crush. I could have gone home right then and there.

Sigh.

But, I stayed, and we sang "Sweet Caroline" in the eighth, and Jon Lester threw seven solid innings, and Daniel Bard threw 100 mph heat, and Ramon Ramirez got Adam Jones to fly out to right field. "Dirty Water" and dancing in the streets.

Perfect.

Earlier, we walked to Boston Harbor, passing the meeting house in which Samuel Adams gave the signal to begin the Boston Tea Party. And Boston Massacre sites. And John Hancock's house. And more Sam Adams.

It's enough to stir the soul. USA! USA!

We walked from Quincy Street past the Boston Common to Cheers -- where everybody knows your name. Of course, they didn't. But I stood in front of that famous facade and downed a Sam Adams (the other kind) in Norm Peterson's seat, Norm being everybody's favorite barfly, our lovable CPA known in real life as actor George Wendt. ("NORM!")

In case you missed it, "Cheers" was a classy and well-written sitcom from the 1980s set in a Boston bar. It is a real place formerly called the Bull and Finch. The inside does not look like the TV Cheers, other than the set bar built upstairs. Hence Norm's corner stool. Complete with a brass plaque.

After we left the cathedral, once the "Yankees Suck!" cheers subsided, we walked the streets of this seductive city, past brownstones and beautiful people dressed in coats, ties and dresses, past newspapers tossed onto stoops, past cabbies honking their horns. A hint of saltwater wafted in from the harbor.

Like all things we cherish, the dream had to end. But, not before a perfect 24 hours in Boston, with Cheers and Sam Adams and fresh shrimp and Heidi Watney and the lyric little bandbox of a ballpark mixed into a summer sojourn to remember.

Perfect.