“I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be.”
--- Douglas Adams

Friday, May 8, 2015

Excessive Use of the Dot Dot Dot ..... An Open Letter to Steven Bochco

Dear Mr. Bochco

The Girl (my teenage daughter) and I have been watching Doogie Howser, MD on Hulu. We put in a few episodes a day. I'm enjoying watching it with her for a few reasons. I love the hair. I love the old technology. I love the clothes. Mostly I love the relationship Doogie has with his girlfriend Wanda. I love watching Vinnie and Janine. I love watching Vinnie and Doogie, and I especially love how Vinnie totally has the hots for Mrs. Howser.

What I really love about the show, above everything else is the opportunity that I get to tell The Girl stories about when I was growing up and the different situations I've been in; funny, sad, silly, stupid, learning experiences during my teenage and young adult life. Hopefully some of them are cautionary tales, hopefully some are funny. Mostly I just hope she finds that they show her that although I grew up in a different time, I still encountered a lot of the same or similar teenage problems and situations that she has, or will encounter.

There's the story about my first date where I spent hours figuring out how much blue eye shadow I should wear so I looked hot but not slutty.

There's the story about when I was 14 and my friends got busted for stealing stuff at the mall and about how I really really wanted to go with them but was too chicken.

There's the story about the time I scolded Danny Glover in public.

Whilst watching The Doog tonight I was reminded of the accidental date I once went on.

It was soon after I had moved to San Francisco. A Midsummer Night's Dream was playing at the Coronet or some such movie theater on Geary St. that doesn't exist anymore. I was too much of an insecure freakshow to go to a movie by myself. I wanted to see it and none of my roommates did. I didn't really know a lot of people. I knew one guy who was into film. I didn't know him very well but I gave him a call and asked him if he wanted to come with me. He said yes.

He showed up at my door. He was freshly showered, freshly shaved and had on a clean shirt. The moment I saw him I thought "oh shit, this is a date." I had not intended the night to be a date. I just wanted to see the movie and didn't want to go alone. The "oh shit, this is a date" was cemented in fact when we got to the movie theater and he bought the tickets, winked at me and said "you can get the popcorn."

While we were at the movies, my roommates and a few other friends were at Slim's watching some band. In my head it was Desmond Decker but it may have not been. I could be making that part up but I don't think I am. I think it was Desmond Decker. After the date the guy asked me what I wanted to do. I told him we should go to Slim's.We did. We saw Desmond Decker (or someone else, who knows).  I drove home with my roommates and he, as far as I know, went home alone.

The Girl found this story amusing, but I feel bad about this night to this day. I didn't want this night to be a date, but I should have at least been nicer to him. He was a nice guy  I assume he is still a nice guy even though I haven't spoken to him in at least a decade, and looking back, he was probably a pretty good catch.

Luckily this guy became friends with my roommates and me and even lived in our apartment for a few months. It's been a long time since I've seen him. When The Girl is ready I have another story about him that I find terribly amusing. When there's a Doogie Howser, MD episode that relates to it, I may tell her.

So to this guy, thank you for playing a part in life. I'm sorry for being kind of a jerk that night we saw that movie. If I had to do it over, I would have let you drive me home instead of abandoning you at Slim's. I probably wouldn't have wanted to go out on a 2nd date, but I would have been nicer.

I'm glad we became friends anyway.

To Steven Bochco, thank you for Doogie Howser, MD. I'm having fun watching it with my daughter.

Thanks,
Andrea

P.S. I am not a crack-pot.

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