“Margaret Meehan, Parkdale?”

Don’t know how this will translate to the Brits but I never do, did y’all have SCTV over there ever? Did it become a cult over there the way it did over here with lonely kids who stayed up way too late because they couldn’t sleep because their brains kept going over and over things that they had done that day, early teens the EXACT SAME AGE as Sam Weir in “Freaks and Geeks,”, kids who wanted to think they were smart but wanted other people to be smarter so they’d get the geeked-out jokes and references they were throwing around, kids who drank this stuff in like screw juice because they knew they’d finally found people who were not only smarter they were also cooler and better and awesomer and nicer too because they were Canadian?

I hope so. I loved SCTV, me and my geek friends; I had jock friends and rich-kid friends and nerd friends and girlfriends too, but never felt more comfortable than with my geek friends no matter what they looked like, especially if they could quote a whole Johnny LaRue whiny soliloquy or Lola Heatherton exclamation (“I wanna have ALL your children!”). I watched this in its 30-minute original version and its 90-minute WTF NBC version and committed it all to faulty memory and thought I’d have to keep it there.

Then that sweet invention called the DVD was invented, and a sweeter invention called my brother Tim who just sent me the 5disc set just out on Shout! Factory. I watched part of the first episode tonight as I made my incredible Quinoa in Semi-Spicy Sauce* and damn if I wasn’t suddenly back 13 years old again (a white t-shirt and Levis 501 jeans and some 250-pound basketball high-top Nikes, still a few months away from earning my letterman’s jacket to complete the uniform), staying up late, looking for soulmates:

Guy Caballero. Bob and Doug McKenzie. Count Floyd. Dr. Tongue and Igor. Edith Prickley. The Schmenge Brothers. Bobby Bittman and Sammy Maudlin. Gerry Todd. Earl Camembert. Mrs. Falbo. Bill Fracas. Dusty Towne. Sid Dithers.

And poor sweet pathetic Margaret Meehan, doomed and destined to ring in even though she doesn’t know the answer, even though Alex Trebel (sic) has ordered her not to touch the button, she can’t help it, tears coursing down her face, she HAS to guess the answer before the question’s read. “Henry Miller?” “Victor Hugo?” “The Beatles?” “Love to Love You Baby?” Oh Catherine O’Hara, you were my first love. Well, second maybe, gotta count Kim S*****. Oh, and Stacey L********** too. And Nadia Comaneci and Chris Evert and Lola Falana. Whatever. Anyway.

So I had to get that out of my system. Forgive me. Holla back.

*Saute 1/2 an onion, stalk celery, 1 chocolate pepper, stalk bok choy, frozen corn, all-spice, chili powder. Add organic quinoa and 1 can diced tomatoes. Stir like a bastard then cover and reduce heat. Freak out periodically and stir like aforementioned bastard, so it doesn’t stick to the bottom, that’s gross. Keep adding water to puff up the quinoa. It’s the perfect protein you know.