I Praise You: The Rockford Files

Garner, Beery

Praise be to Hulu.com and our benign dictators at NBC, as they have at last enabled me to substitute for my reality The Rockford Files. Through the miracle of the Internet, I have returned to 1975, only this time I am not a toddler: I am laconic private eye James Garner, and crusty old character actor Noah Beery, Jr., is my crusty old dad.

Times are different here. We have so much petroleum that everyone drives a giant slab of Detroit steel--I myself command a badass Pontiac Firebird, which is brown, because cars should be brown. We weave the surplus petroleum polymers into wrinkle-resistant fabric, reams of it. Batwing sleeves! Tapered collars! Maxi-skirts! Superfluous vests!

On $200 a day (plus expenses) I can solve our social problems, which comprise insurance fraud, the motivated murders of marginal characters, and the occasional kidnapping by Mafiosi of a low-rent Vegas songbird who really has talent. There is no economic recession and no perpetual foreign war--not yet. When I wake up in the hospital with a really nasty hematoma from the blackjack of a shiny bald nameless henchman, the doctor is actually in the room with me and doesn't even ask for my HMO Blue card.

And my hair? Is awesome. Let's take another look.

My good side: Let me show it to you. Again.

Did you know Linda Evans and I used to go out? And that my Emmy-winning Mike Post theme song effortlessly combines folksy harmonica with the "tomorrow" sounds of the Moog synthesizer? I sure do love my opening montage, which shows me freeze-framed bemusedly against the hustle and bustle of Los Angeles, where the freeways are surprisingly navigable.

And because my world has been painstakingly fashioned by Stephen J. Cannell, I never get bored. Each day starts with a whimsical message on my analog answering machine, and sometimes it goes from there right into a wah-pedal car chase with no exposition whatsoever! We got cars; let's race 'em! I do all my stunts myself.

Second-wave feminism has landed, but because I'm a classy guy with a good pedigree (remember, I was Maverick) I get to be a little handsy with the pretty women in tight slacks. You know, just when they swoon and stuff. They slam the door in my face at first, but Cannell likes that; soon enough, I'm steering them around by the elbow and letting them weep onto my houndstooth blazer.

On my good side, of course.

Send my mail to 2354 Ocean Blvd, Los Angeles. And at the tone, leave your name and number. I'll get back to you.

Comments

[Mrs. Kennedy]

I remember very clearly whenever that theme song would come on the TV, every teenage boy within hearing would LEAP for a good spot on the couch. Hail Rockford!

[AmyC65]

teenage boys - pfft! How about ME? Loved Jim Rockford. How hot was James Garner? Like in The Great Escape? swoon!

[Mrs. Kennedy]

Personally, I loved his Kodak commercials with Mariette Hartley.