Skip to main content

The Return of Dallas

Tonight on TNT is the premiere of the new Dallas. Not sure what to call it: Dallas: The Next Generation? Dallas: Again!? Regardless, it's the return of the classic CBS series that originally aired during the 1970s, '80s and '90s. Cynically, I want to brush it off by remarking that it's an obvious commercial ploy to capitalize on a well-established TV brand that seeks to prey on folks' nostalgia. But, dear reader, I am willing to admit a great weakness to such nostalgia, and will most likely tune-in to at least the season premiere, if not the entire 10-episode-season.

Talking of Dallas always puts me in a wistful mood, of good times as a kid that will never come again, of family members no longer with us, of languid Saturday nights in front of the TV at my grandmother Callie Mae's house. That is where I remember watching Dallas. Honestly, I'm not sure if mom and dad were ever regular viewers, but if we were at grandma's on a Friday night, the TV was on CBS, and we would often sit in the living room and catch the shows that were on.

Friday nights were, for quite some time, The Dukes of Hazzard, Dallas and Falcon Crest. Dad seemed to really enjoy the antics of Boss Hogg and his bumbling policeman sidekick, Rosco P. Coltrane, on Hazzard. With Dallas, I remember the adults in the room emitting audible gasps the night that Pam found Bobby in the shower in the ninth season closer (May of 1986). Other nights of the week at grandma's, we would watch Alice, with Flo and her "kiss my grits!" trademark sassy line. Still other nights, it would be the soapy goings-on of Knots Landing.

Dad and grandma are gone now. Not sure if mom even knows there's a new version of Dallas about to air. As stated earlier, I'm going to try and give the season opener a go. But it's already been a nice trip down nostalgia lane, seeing the promos with J.R. and Bobby, the South Fork ranch, and whistling the theme tune. It's brought back some nice memories.


Popular posts from this blog


Ok, we're now three-fourths of the way through this year's calendar, so I thought I'd rank the thirty-eight 2017 movies I've seen so far.

Here they are....

1. A Quiet Passion
2. Baby Driver
3. Dunkirk
4. Get Out
5. Kedi
6. A Ghost Story
7. Wonder Woman
8. Columbus
9. Brad's Status
10. Marjorie Prime
11. Maudie
12. Logan
13. Spider-Man: Homecoming
14. Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 2
15. Brigsby Bear
16. Atomic Blonde
17. The Big Sick
18. Split
19. Kong: Skull Island
20. It
21. Wind River
22. A Cure for Wellness
23. The Hitman's Bodyguard
24. Norman
25. Kingsman: The Golden Circle
26. Logan Lucky
27. Alien Covenant
28. Ghost In the Shell
29. War for the Planet of the Apes
30. Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales
31. Life
32. Annabelle: Creation
33. Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets
34. My Cousin Rachel
35. Baywatch
36. The Bye Bye Man
37. mother!
38. It Comes at Night

It will be interesting to see what the last three months of the year brin…

If You Could Read My Mind

Dance clubs are a funny thing. They contain within their walls a life force and vibrancy sometimes unmatched anywhere else. When dusk settles and the lights come on, people will flood the dance floors to gyrate to music with hypnotic beats and songs about love, lust and fun at the disco. At gay bars, this sort of scenario usually increases ten-fold. It isn't for everyone, but for many it is a respite from the harsh realities of the real word. It is a place that isn't just a structure, but a sanctuary where folks -- minorities in their own communities -- can take shelter and unwind with abandon, at least for a few nighttime hours.
As someone who benefited greatly from such an aforementioned gay dance club, you can imagine my dismay at news of the closing of Chester Street Bar. In business for over three decades, gay-owned and operated, there was a time when C-Street (as it was known by most) was the only haven for those in the LGBT community, near and far, to enjoy themselves …


"Step out from the mask you stand behind Fearful lost and blind Time to take the time The pressure’s on you Hide away, hide away No tomorrow, just today"
- Brilliant, Ultravox
Today was National Coming Out Day, so of course it gives some pause for reflection on my own coming out story. It was in April 1993, my junior year of high school (go Chargers!). In the six years of writing this blog, I have alluded to how I came out, but never really delved into the intricacies of how it came about. What better day to do so than today?
My first (small) indications of homosexuality manifested in grade school. While in first grade, I thought a fifth grader looked cute. In fifth grade, I would stare, longingly, at a boy in class, until he caught me looking at him. There were some infatuations with boys in middle school, and a first sexual experience during freshman year of high school. Everything up to that point had been, for the most part, based in the physical realm. I liked the way certain…