Sitting here in limbo

Hi, gang.

I'll be in limbo until further notice. I have taken a medical leave of absence from the newspaper to deal with a debilitating, but thankfully non-terminal, illness.

The long and short of it is that I can't read or write for any length of time and, on bad days, can't even listen to the radio or watch television. Being robbed of my hobbies is heartbreaking, but I'm still here to tell the tale.

So, as Jimmy Cliff sang, "I'm sitting here in limbo, but I know (hope) it won't be for long."

You're looking above at the famous Hotel del Coronado on Coronado Island near San Diego. It was rumored that Edward VIII and Wallis Simpson met here, which isn't true. They did spend time there, though, and you're seeing it because I wish I was there. I think the timbre of the tides and the salubrious scenery would do wonders for my weaknesses.

As it is, I watch reruns of "Harry O" (filmed on Coronado and in San Diego early on) when I can, and

try to catch Padres games when they're playing on the West Coast and I can't get Vin Scully. I like and have admired the Padres' announcer, Dick Enberg, for years. And I have a huge crush on Fox Sports San Diego reporter Kate Osborne.

Baseball, as it has for decades, has rescued me yet again. It's there, through thick and thin, in sickness and in health, often breaking my heart but a daily presence six months out of the year, beginning in the sweetness of spring when the colors are in sharp focus and the possibilities are as endless as pi.

So, let me say au revoir, because I certainly plan to see you again. I wish you nothing but peace, joy, happiness, fastballs thrown right down the middle of the plate, and the sweet surrender of sunshine on your shoulders.

See you soon, my friends.

Walter Mitty dream jobs

OK, let's get one thing straight:

I've got the best job in the world.

Sure, the pay isn't great, the hours are long, you hear more complaints than applause, and when you screw up 100,000 people can potentially see it.

But that's my story and I'm sticking to it. I tell tales for a living. Doesn't get much better than that.

Still, I have my Walter Mitty moments. So, here are a list of jobs I sometimes dream about on cloudy days.

Being Rob Petrie -- I don't want to be just any ol' comedy writer for a TV show. I want to be Rob Petrie from "The Dick Van Dyke Show." Let's face it: He sits around all day thinking up jokes with Rose Marie and Morrie Amsterdam. Every now and then they get to make fun of bald guy Mel. They work for Carl Reiner's Alan Brady. At night, Rob goes home to Mary Tyler Moore circa the 1960s Capri pants era. (OK, we'll forget that he also trips over the ottoman -- sometimes! -- and for some strange reason has to sleep in a single bed next to Mary's.) His neighbor is Jerry Paris. What a life!


Being Jack Benny -- I'm a big radio guy and missed out on its Golden Age. Thank God I can listen to endless hours of Benny's classic comedy. Picture perfect timing, classic routines, the self-confidence to make yourself the butt of every joke, Jack Benny's show created the sitcom. He was everything his radio/TV character wasn't -- warm, generous, even talented on the violin. I would have loved to have had a radio show like Jack's, Sunday nights at 7. LSMFT!

Being Harry O/Magnum, p.i./Jim Rockford -- Yes, I would like to be any member of this trio of TV detectives. Oh, I know it's a fantasy. The work is hard, tedious, dangerous. But, I'll take a beachfront cottage in San Diego (Orwell), a guest house in Hawaii (Magnum) or even a seedy trailer by the highway in Los Angeles (Rockford). Shows about quirky detectives have given way to a saturation of rote procedurals. It's such a shame.

Being Jonathan Schwartz -- He's been a fixture on New York radio for decades. Jon Schwartz is one classy cat. Saturdays and Sundays on WNYC, he spins everything from Sinatra to the latest showtune singer. He used to be a cabaret singer himself. His dad was a famous composer. He lives in Manhattan. He likes baseball. He writes books. Yes, sir. Yes, indeed.

Being Robert Osborne -- Need I explain it? Although he's finally slowing down, Osborne has been the host of TCM since its inception. He waxes poetic about classic cinema. And he does it with class, confidence and cogent comments. Roll the next clip!

Being Vin Scully -- Oh, that sounds too pretentious, but I'd love to be a radio/TV play-by-play announcer for a major league baseball club. The national pastime is tailor made for radio really, and Vinny and the late Ernie Harwell and a couple of others are the cream of the crop. They knew what to say, they knew when to shut up and they did it (and in Vin's case is still doing it) with class and competence.

Having said all this, being Jake Mabe is pretty darn good.

But I can dream, can't I? (To coin a phrase.)

'If the phone doesn't ring, it's me'

Harry Orwell is giving Thomas Magnum a run for his money as my favorite TV detective.

(Yeah, Jim Rockford is up there, too.)

Harry lives on the beach. He takes the bus everywhere because he says it gives him time to think. He's debating on whether to get his vehicle's transmission repaired on principle. And, as soon as he finishes fixing up his boat (named The Answer), he's sailing out to sea. Because, as he says, "there aren't any phones there."

Well, this was the 1970s, before cellphones became ubiquitous. But I get his point.

If it were up to me, or if I were in another line of work, I wouldn't answer the darn things. These people who walk around with a phone stuck to their ear as if it were an appendage look ridiculous. Casual conversation in a restaurant is an endangered species.

I told you the other day about "Harry O." It was an underrated show starring the underrated David Janssen. I'm working my way through the two pilot movies and the first season of episodes. You don't see TV like this anymore.

I've always wanted to live near the water. I guess Norris Lake would be more realistic than Coronado, California, the Mississippi Gulf Coast, or Lahaina, Maui. But one can dream.

The interns have returned for the summer. We call them that. It's actually a six-week summer camp, if you will, in which we tour various businesses around town and try to teach them a thing or two about herding words. I joined them for lunch today at Litton's. They are all in middle or high school and have their lives ahead of them. It makes me almost envious.

I told them if they find a job they love, they will never work a day in their lives. That's mostly true.

Speaking of which, I've got to head out to an interview in a few minutes. Hope you all are having a good afternoon.

Meanwhile, I'll be dreaming about a little cottage by the coast, the surf splashing onto shore, no deadlines, no commitments. Chances are I'll be humming that Jimmy Buffett tune.

"If the phone doesn't ring, it's me." 

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.