Farrah

Here is the poster I had in my room in '77 or '78. It was either John Travolta or Serpico or Farrah, may she rest in piece. I eventually replaced Fawcett with Cheryl Ladd, who I taped to my ceiling and attached bulging eyeballs. It seemed funny at the time. I was likely too young to appreciate anything else, but who knows really? Television of this era wonderful and also totally crap - production a bare minimum and the "acting" camp. Aaron Spelling, however, discovered the holy grail with Love Boat, Fantasy Island and of course, Charlie's Angels which recycled has-beens clinging to their desperation and banking one more pay check. It was the "reality" TV of the day and just as scripted as now (or vice verse?). While LB and FI were the Saturday solution to one's tweens and pre-dating, it was the "Six Million Dollar Man" on Sunday nights that was transformative for us youngsters: "Steve Austin, astronaut. A man barely alive. Gentlemen, we can rebuild him. We have the technology. We have the capability to build the world's first bionic man. Steve Austin will be that man. Better than he was before. Better, strong, faster." The imagination sored, Dear Reader, and I still fantasise about a bionic arm used for smashing deserving shitheads like certain members in US government. Cheney. But I digress. And the plots sublime: Steve vs. the Sasquatch went two episodes ("To Be Continued" - what commitment!). Plus there was his love interest and bionic women Jamie and the bionic dog too. Ahh, sweet heaven. Today's stuff cannot compete and despite 200 surfing channels, most barely watchable. And the four terrestrial channels, supported by advertising and my television license, ghastly excluding the BBC News and the occasional football match not owned by Sky.

"I took them away from all that, and now they work for me."
--Charlie