TV Classics: "Chutch"
Still reeling from Vietnam, and with Watergate and OPEC looming on the horizon, 1972 was a turbulent time for America. Nowhere was the zeitgeist more reflected than on ABC Thursday nights, with the debut of "Chutch." Starring Jan-Peter Bronston in the title role, the fast-paced action series centered on the adventures of a mystic, Indian-like professor at fictional Boulder University. Based on the rugged hippie anti-hero Bronston portrayed in a skein of popular low budget drive-in biker films (including 1968's "Tenured Losers" and 1970's "The Angry Ones"), Chutch battled against injustice and The Man with a lethal arsenal of martial arts, mystic dialog, dirt bikes and his faithful mountain lion, Zapata.
The show's unique combination of serious social commentary, folk music and violent desert dirtbike action sparked a brief but intense popularity among young viewers, spawning the memorable catch phrase "you heap big dead, paleface" -- uttered by Chutch whenever a villain questioned his Native American bona fides.
"Chutch" rose to #16 in the Nielsens in its debut year, a level of popularity it never repeated. Ratings continued to slip through 1974, hobbled by weak scripts and the increasingly bizarre behavior of Bronston, a gifted method actor whose obsession with his role as a mystical revolutionary pseudo-Indian led to an unfortunate and debilitating peyote habit. The series was finally replaced in 1975 by the gritty police drama "Torino Squad" starring Lash LaDouche.
Plagued by typecasting and peyote flashbacks, Jan-Peter Bronston never again found steady work in Hollywood; today he operates a roadside bleached cow skull shop from his trailer home outside Hemet, California. He occasionally travels to fan fairs in the far East, where the program remains a staple of North Korean daytime TV. Although he blames "Chutch" in part for his six failed marriages and numerous unsuccessful stays in rehab, he says he wouldn't have traded the experience.
"For a short time, I was the voice of an entire generation," he says philosophically. "And when we were cancelled, I got to keep the dirtbike."
EPISODE 106: BURY MY HEART AT WOUNDED EGO
OPENING TITLE SEQUENCE
Mystic flute and chime music; soft focus lens shot of a young Chutch standing in candlelit sweat lodge of his Tribal Master, Marcuse
MARCUSE: Are you ready for your final test, Angry Turtleneck?
YOUNG CHUTCH: I am ready, master.
MARCUSE: Then try to snatch the grant proposal from my hand.
Chutch deftly grabs the binder from the wizened master.
MARCUSE: With this ankh medallion I now grant you the ultimate power, Angry Turtleneck -- a Master's degree from Sangamon State University. I pray you will use it wisely.
Cue action music by Quincy Taylor Horns; split screen montage of Chutch driving Jeep, kung fu fighting, grading quizzes, playing acoustic guitar for mountain lion.
ANNCR: Chutch... in color, man!
ACT ONE - RAP SESSION ON THE CAMPUS QUAD
CHUTCH: ... and that's why the Japanese needed to make that statement -- they were speaking out against The Man's imperial colonization of the indigenous Hawaiians.
FEMALE STUDENT #1: Groovy! You really know how to stick it to The Man, Professor Churchill!
CHUTCH: "Professor Churchill" is what The Man wants you to call me, little one. In my classroom, my name is Chutch. Why do you laugh?
FEMALE STUDENT #2: Because, well... we're not in a classroom! We're outdoors!
CHUTCH: Haven't you been listening? "Classrooms" are only cells in the big global prison run by The Man. The Man didn't build "buildings" to keep rain out, The Man built them to keep you in. See? That's why I'm holding today's rap lab outside, in the natural harmony of nature. It is the classroom of my people, the Arapazowee people. My desk is this grass, my chalkboard is this stick, my filmstrip is that sky.
MALE STUDENT #3: Far out, Profes... I mean, Chutch. Do all the other Arapazowees have red hair like you?
ZAPATA: Rowwwr!
CHUTCH: Easy, Zapata, the boy is young and ignorant. Billy, the path to wisdom means learning, but also unlearning. You must unlearn the Indian stereotypes fed to you by The Man. Not all Indians live in teepees, and do rain-dances, or have brown eyes. Among my people, the Arapazowees, there were redhairs, and blackhairs, and blondhairs with pattern baldness, even the Freckled Ones. We lived in peace and harmony with the elk -- before The Man came and killed all the Arapazowee except me.
BILLY: I... I didn't know...
CHUTCH: You couldn't have known, Billy. The Man covered up the massacre in the media, and that's when I swore my revenge. Think of it this way -- if I'm not an Indian, why am I wearing this Indian hat and fringed buckskin jacket?
FEMALE #1: I think Billy has watched too many episodes of Johnny Nuance!
BILLY: Hey!
Everyone laughs, as the class is approached by Dean White.
DEAN WHITE: Chutch! I've been looking for you all over campus... teaching outside? This is outrageous!
CHUTCH: Mellow out, Dean. Real learning means getting out of that artificial plastic kaleidescope circus tent war machine you call "education." It means sitting cross-legged out here, soaking in the sunshine of truth.
DEAN WHITE: Perhaps the students love your highly unconventional methods, but they leave me exasperated!
CHUTCH: I thought you wanted to talk to me about something.
DEAN WHITE: Indeed I do! You've really done it now, Chutch. The alumni are in an uproar, the Board of Regents is grumbling, and the state legislature wants your hide! I tried to talk them out of it, but after you exposed the Eisenhower-Hitler connection, they swore they were coming to take your Arapazowee sacred Talisman of Tenure!
CHUTCH: So The Man wants a little showdown, eh? Let this be the Arapazowee's last stand.
BILLY: Chutch, over there -- here they come!
Sudden sound of motorcycle engines; biker gang appears on quad, astride filthy choppers. They roar across the green, up a ramp, and vault in midair over the heads of Chutch and his students. Freeze Frame.
COMMERCIAL SPOT #1A
Singers
Go! Go! GO! With the Now Generation!
Pants! Pants! Pants! For a New Celebration!
ANNCR: New Montgomery Grants action flares! The now-scene pants with the Sta-Prest comfort that will blow your mind...
Echo-y sound EFX with pulsating lights and fuzz guitar; grainy color animation of hot air balloons and 1890 marching bands over M.C. Escher background
ANNCR (contd): Bold stripes and fringed patchwork paisleys that put The Man on notice - you are a new generation and you demand a new pair of slacks!
bellbottom rainbow arcs over polluted city -- vacuuming a stream of hardhats, army generals, and cigar-chomping industrialist into its legs
VOICEOVER: Montgomery Grants Action Flares -- now only $8.95 through Sunday. See the Youngwear Department of your local Montgomery Grants.
COMMERCIAL SPOT #1B
GROWLING SINGER: Chutch Power!
ANNCR: Now Action Chutch has twice the power... and twice the accessories!
BOYS: Right ON! [power salute]
ANNCR: Custom Bultaco dirtbike! Turtleneck! Life-like college grant proposals! Zapata with real growl action!
ZAPATA: Rorrrrwwrrr!
BOYS (look at each other and soul-shake) Radical!
ANNCR: And the ultimate in Chutch Power -- the official Chutch Boulder University Native Studies Department, with Dome of Tenure!
BOY #1: You can't up my teaching load, I'm going on sabbatical!
BOY #2: Grrr!
ZAPATA: Rowwwrrr!
GROWLING SINGER: Chutch Power!
ANNCR: Chutch and Comrades action sets, by Plastico. Wherever fine toys are sold.
ACT TWO - THE CHOPPER GANG
Return to Freeze Frame. Airborn choppers land on quad, causing students form protective circle of solidarity around Chutch.
CHUTCH: Stand aside, little ones. This is my battle.
LENNY THE BIKER: You made a whole bunch of the wrong enemies, Injun man! Now hand over that talisman, and nobody gets hurt!
CHUTCH: I could no more give you my talisman of tenure than I could give you my state merit raise, or the very sun itself. Now go. We are humble scholars, we mean you no harm.
LENNY THE BIKER: Heh heh. Suit yourself, Chief. Let's get 'em boys!
Choppers pop their clutches, careening toward Chutch and his class. Two choppers dig a circular dirt donut around Chutch while others snatch helpless students.
LENNY THE BIKER: Okay, Injun, we're gonna have a little fun while you stand there and watch. But if you step out of that circle, we're gonna kill you.
Students scream as bikers beat students with hobnailed issues of National Review and Reader's Digest.
LENNY THE BIKER: What are you laughing at, Injun?
CHUTCH (giggling): While you weren't looking, I stepped out of the circle three times!
LENNY THE BIKER: All right, playtime is over. Boys, get out the Nixon campaign buttons.
CHUTCH: No! Leave the students alone! I'll do what you say. You may take... you may take the Talisman of Tenure.
LENNY THE BIKER: Now you're thinking straight, Chief. Let's have a look at... wait a minute! You ain't no Injun! Haw haw! Lookee here boys! Old Pro-fesser Crazy Horse here has got hisself a headful of red roots under his war bonnet!
Gang begins laughing as Chutch goes through slow burn. Misty lens flashback to sweat lodge.
YOUNG CHUTCH: How will I know I am a true Arapazowee warrior, Master?
MARCUSE: This I will tell you -- when The Man comes to question his tenure, the warrior of the true path will make himself known by his actions. And filing a formal grievance with the Faculty Diversity Committee.
Flash forward to present. Chutch reaches boiling point, clenches fists.
CHUTCH: You heap big dead, paleface!
Chutch leaps through air in fierce flying kick. Freeze frame.
COMMERCIAL SPOT #2
Aerial helicopter shot of all new 1973 DMC Groovie winding through mountain roads.
ANNCR: Jan-Peter Bronston.
Jan-Peter: The wind in my hair. It means a lot to me. That's why when DMC asked to do the Chutch Edition of the all-new 1973 Groovie, I insisted on high performance T-Top styling, bold mountain lion decals, and rich buckskin vinyl interior.
Windshield shot of Jan-Peter taking Chutch Edition DMC Groovie through mountain switchback. Scene changes to dragstrip, as Jan-Peter dons asbestos firesuit and helmet.
Jan-Peter(contd): Performance and style is what the '73 Groovie is all about. From the Groovie Hatchlin Squareback all the way to the high output Groovie Hugger GSXTSi -- with its racing-inspired side scoops, green stripe polyglas radials, slotted mag-style hubcaps, and 105 cast iron ponies of double barrel carbureted Slant 5 power*.
*Not available in California, Kentucky or Vermont
Jan-Peter(contd): And if luxury comfort is your bag, check out the '73 Groovie Civilienne Pescadero, with its exclusive quintaphonic 11-track sound system and a distinct opera-hole vinyl roof inspired by the great roadcars of east-central Europe.
Jan-Peter exits Groovie at exclusive Hollywood discotheque, handing keys to beaming valet.
Jan-Peter(contd): Thanks to DMC's settlement with the UAW and new federal loan package, the '73 Groovie is available today. Visit your local DMC dealer for a test viewing, and tell 'em Jan-Peter Bronston sent you. Maybe you're ready to finally let the whole world know: you're a Groovie man.
Pan Helicopter shot of Jan-Peter and Groovie on top of isolated rock outcropping; fade
ACT THREE - TAKING OUT THE TRASH
Unfreeze frame; Chutch flies through air in slo-mo, his mocassins of fury taking out two bikers; he takes out a third with a vicious kung-fu chop.
CHUTCH: Hai-Chomsky!
Momentarily dazed, the bikers get to their feet, swinging chains.
LENNY THE BIKER: Eat our shackles of oppression, intellectual!
ZAPATA: Rowwwwwrrrr!
BIKER: Let's split, man! That dude's packing endangered wildlife!
Bikers scramble for their choppers, as students pummel them with protest signs reading "FAR OUT" and "GROOVY." Frightened, Lenny runs across the quad, but is taken down by a leaping Zapata.
ZAPATA: Rowwwwwrrrr!
CHUTCH: Good job, faithful cougar friend. (to Lenny) Now I think its time for you to tell me who sent you for the talisman, you stinking tool of the bourgeois!
LENNY THE BIKER: Aiiee! Anything, just get that wild animal off me! It was the Technocrats of Empire, over at the Boulder Savings & Loan! They were the ones! Because of your speaking Truth to Power, they couldn't get a zoning permit to build that new ski development over the sacred Arapazowee burial ground! I didn't have nothin' to do with it!
CHUTCH: All right, Zapata. Let him up.
DEAN WHITE: Well, I guess that mystery is solved. Let's all get back to class now, before anyone rocks the boat further.
CHUTCH: I'm afraid it's not that easy, Dean. Quick, Zapata! To the Bultaco!
Chutch and Zapata leap aboard Chutch's gleaming, fringe-festooned dirtbike and tear across campus, leaping over ivied hedges.
DEAN WHITE: Where is that brilliant fool going now?
BILLY: I'd say there's some injustice to be undone, Dean.
Scene shifts to the boardroom of the Boulder Savings & Loan.
BALD WHITE MAN #1: Cigars and brandy, gentlemen? With our meddlesome tenured activist friend safely out of the way, I would like to offer a toast to [reveals master plan blueprints] Sacred Mountain Ski Resort! To oppression!
BALD WHITE MEN: Huzzah!
BALD WHITE MAN #1: Yes... magnificent... an exclusive paradise for the Bourgeois! And no Indians, not even pretend ones!
BALD WHITE MAN #2: Except for the ones buried there!
BALD WHITE MEN: Haw haw!
BALD WHITE MAN #1: Wait a minute... does someone hear an airplane?
Cockpit of Cessna.
CHUTCH: Okay, Zapata, this is it... put on this chute pack.
ZAPATA: Rowr?
CHUTCH: Don't worry, faithful friend. Today, the chickens come home to roost for the Little Eichmanns at Boulder Savings & Loan. Geronimo!
Chutch, Zapata and dirtbike leap to safety, as Cessna explodes into fireball into Savings & Loan. Fade out. Fade in to campfire scene, as Chutch strums his acoustic guitar soulfully for a tired Zapata.
SONG: "Colorado Kung-Fu Justice Man"
Words & Music by Tommy Terry and Danny Boycey
Performed by Jan-Peter Bronston
From the ABC-Polyglam LP, "Arapazowee Nation"
In the aspen covered Rockies there's a legend often told
Of a tenured native shaman with a cougar, grey and gold
He had two fists of fury and a Master of Arts Degree
From accredited Sangamon State UniversityCHORUS
He was a Colorado kung fu justice man,
Fighting fascist critics across the campus land.
Office hours: Monday Wednesday Friday 9 to 10
Colo-RADO (kung fu)
Colo-RADO (kung fu)
With red hair in his hat and Arapazowee soul
Speaking truth to power was his only goal
Writing grants and lectures, a simple mountain life
A Bultaco for his horse and a cougar for his wife
FADE OUT
ROLL CREDITS
Brilliant, just brilliant. Does a more visceral job of showing what a fool this man is than all the pundits shouting righteous indignation. It only begs the question: How in the name of all that's holy do you think this stuff up?
Posted by: Adrian | February 07, 2005 at 08:28 AM
Brilliant!
I bow before you, O Iowahawkish one!
Posted by: pooklekufr: the kafir Constitutionalist | February 07, 2005 at 08:29 AM
Good one, Iowahawk! You caught the 'essence' of the scoundrel! Perfect!
Posted by: foreign devil | February 07, 2005 at 08:41 AM
You should take your splendid comedic writing gifts to SNL, a show that hasn't had a funny bit since John Belushi overdosed on speedballs in a Florida motel two decades ago.
Posted by: espantoon | February 07, 2005 at 09:11 AM
Hawk, there are times I'd like to get in your head, and times I think doing so would cause me to quickly go insane. This is one of the later times. Excellent work, as usual.
Posted by: Vitamin Tom | February 07, 2005 at 09:39 AM
This show laid the cultural predicate for the genre's eventual evolution into shows like the A-Team, which as we know was just a watered down military/industrial corporate sell-out version of the purer storylines of Chutch.
Posted by: George | February 07, 2005 at 09:58 AM
That was high-larious. Where can I get the authentic Chutch metal lunchbox with Zapata thermos bottle that keeps your milk really cool man?
Posted by: desertRat | February 07, 2005 at 10:25 AM
The tipoff that this wasn't really true was the Friday office hour. Has anyone ever had a professor with office hours on a Friday? Very good though. I can see Chutch combing his locks in the reflection of his Bultaco gas tank.
Posted by: skinbad | February 07, 2005 at 10:29 AM
Great stuff! I laughed so hard the neighbors came over to ask if I was all right...
-A.R.Yngve
http://yngve.bravehost.com
P.S.:What really worries me is that all the aging Baby Boomers will soon DEMAND a TV series like "Chutch", to please their growing nostalgia.
Posted by: A.R.Yngve | February 07, 2005 at 10:38 AM
You must have strange breakfast food to think up this stuff. Or should I change and eat less sugar? Either way, you crack me up.
Posted by: Chevy Rose | February 07, 2005 at 02:12 PM
This tickles me as much as anything in years, everything from the commercials to the "Huzzah".
Every freakin' detail, man.
Posted by: spongeworthy | February 07, 2005 at 02:20 PM
that was sooo groovvvyyyy maaaannnnn!
golly Iowahawk you even caught the essence of the gruff yet compassionate school administraitor.
Posted by: don't be that guy | February 07, 2005 at 02:30 PM
"MARCUSE: Are you ready for your final test, Angry Turtleneck?"
This was the beverage all over the monitor moment for me.
Posted by: Yehudit | February 07, 2005 at 03:16 PM
Iowahawk, they already made this movie. Remember Billy Jack and hippy dippy Jean, headmistress of The Peace School?
Posted by: Ceci | February 07, 2005 at 04:16 PM
Not that it really matters, but I apologize for confusing my Bultaco with my Hodaka. (If I can say that in mixed company.)
Posted by: skinbad | February 07, 2005 at 04:36 PM
Shee-it! Hodaka... I forgot about those.
I'm kicking myself for not including a fake composite dirtbike brand, something like a cross between Hodaka/Bultaco/CZ Jawa/Husqvarna... Ho-Taco? Buljaqva?
Whatever the case, it sounds like this: WING DINGDINGDING WIIIIIIIING....DIIIIIING
Posted by: iowa | February 07, 2005 at 05:04 PM
Ceci - I just re-saw "The Born Losers" (the original Billy Jack flick) last weekend. Lord, what a piece of crap.
Posted by: iowahawk | February 07, 2005 at 05:17 PM
I never saw that one. Now I get the "Tenured Losers" reference.
:)
Posted by: Ceci | February 07, 2005 at 06:00 PM
Actually, Bultaco is already close enough to a "fake composite dirtbike brand." Certainly the 250 I rode was a fake composite dirtbike.
Amazingly enough, I've also had the "pleasure" of riding a Hodaka as well, and I remember that shiny tank rising up to smack my face quite vividly. The Hodaka and Bultaco, as different from each other as they were, shared the same basic ergonomic flaw: a binary rather than analog throttle control, with the only two settings being barely-sputtering-idle and Millenium-Falcon-hyperdrive. The only way to avoid a catapult-style launch from a standing start was to feather the clutch until you could smell it baking, and even then you only had a fifty-fifty chance of avoiding being thrown and/or dragged to your death.
Boy, the things I thought were fun back when I healed fast.
Posted by: Alan S. | February 07, 2005 at 06:16 PM
Me, oh how I wish that the late Eldridge Cleaver was still around to rip this Ward Churchill a new one.
Because Eldridge Cleaver would have no patience with a faux radical like this. Because Eldridge Cleaver, late in life, came to realize the error of his ways, and ran for office as a Republican. Because it would have given me the justification to post:
"Cleaver, you were awful tough on the Ward last night."
And I could die a happier man.
Hats off to you, Iowahawk, you are what they call THE MAN!
Posted by: andthenblammo! | February 07, 2005 at 07:15 PM
ATTA BOY, ATTA BOY.
I've been waiting for this one. I knew you couldn't pass up the opportunity to slap at Boulder and Churchill. Excellent. Way to go.
Also just so you remember in the fall (Go Buffs, Cyclones Suck)
Posted by: LC Geno | February 07, 2005 at 07:38 PM
Brilliant. The 'Facts of Life' could have used your writing.
Posted by: DSB | February 07, 2005 at 07:49 PM
Pure.
F'n.
Gold.
Posted by: pdb | February 07, 2005 at 07:53 PM
skinbad said, "The tipoff that this wasn't really true was the Friday office hour. Has anyone ever had a professor with office hours on a Friday?"
Ah, skinbad, you forget that offices are only cells in the big global prison run by The Man. Friday office hours would be conducted in a sweatlodge, smoking peyote.
Posted by: kj | February 07, 2005 at 08:07 PM
The sad thing is, I probably would have watched this show.
Posted by: GaijinBiker | February 07, 2005 at 08:14 PM
You are a genius... but I digress... ;-)
Posted by: Shivas Irons | February 07, 2005 at 08:30 PM
"LENNY THE BIKER: Eat our shackles of oppression, intellectual!"
Are you *trying* to get me fired? I can't read you at work any more.
Posted by: John from WuzzaDem | February 07, 2005 at 08:42 PM
Rowr?
Posted by: capitano | February 07, 2005 at 08:51 PM
"ANNCR: Custom Bultaco dirtbike! Turtleneck! Life-like college grant proposals! Zapata with real growl action!"
VERY nice. I guess you were one of the few who noticed while watching "Then Came Bronson" that whenever he needed to chase someone up a hill, his Triumph would magically change into a Bultaco.
Sweet.
Posted by: CraigC | February 07, 2005 at 09:01 PM
Maybe I'm just slow, but it was this that sent me over the edge:
CHUTCH: Okay, Zapata, this is it... put on this chute pack.
ZAPATA: Rowr?
Posted by: RAS | February 07, 2005 at 09:06 PM
But shouldn't that be "bourgeoisie?"
Posted by: CraigC | February 07, 2005 at 09:06 PM
awesome!!! I'm officially a regular reader...
Posted by: Robbie | February 07, 2005 at 09:13 PM
'Masters degree from Sangamon State University' You can't top that
Posted by: cris | February 07, 2005 at 09:14 PM
Ah, binary throttled Bultaco wheelies. I impressed the hell out of the neighborhood kids - and scared myself half to death...
Posted by: Bultaco Charlie | February 07, 2005 at 09:15 PM
You, Iowahawk, are a great American. If you were Japanese you be a "precious living national treasure." You're not Japanese, are you?
Posted by: Gerard Van der Leun | February 07, 2005 at 09:20 PM
I was gonna give you kudos, because it IS good, Hawk, but it really doesn't get the essence of 'pathetic buffoon'...
More like 'fantastic poltroon',
or 'diuretic pontoon'...
Posted by: Carridine | February 07, 2005 at 09:52 PM
I used to wear "Hai-Chomsky" Aftershave. Had to fight off the socialists with a stick.
Posted by: dorkafork | February 07, 2005 at 09:58 PM
Why aren't you writing for Hollywood? You're just too good!
Posted by: Hiawatha Bray | February 07, 2005 at 10:01 PM
Maybe the Hekawi Indians from F-Troop will take him in.
Posted by: Split-level Head | February 07, 2005 at 10:31 PM
Hey I think I remember that show! Me and my friends use to quote dialogue from it as we wandered through the desert on peyote-induced vision quests. Or maybe I'm just recalling a scene from Oliver Stone's The Doors. Hard to say. It's all kind of a blur now.
Posted by: Randal Robinson | February 07, 2005 at 10:42 PM
Will somebody please get in touch with the CU College Republicans so they can distribute this thing outside of Churchill's speech tomorrow night?
Posted by: Joshua Sharf | February 07, 2005 at 10:50 PM
"A cougar for his wife". That's it, my new homepage.
"I select first gear. The thoroughbred pulls, as if alive. It's crisp snarl, bellowing strength and power, demands attention and concentration. The adrenaline starts to flow.
I ease the clutch out .... First, ..Second, ..Third.... the wildlife scatters as I blast down the path, trees only a blur. The red Bul's rapid heartbeat, hungrily consumes every inch of ground we overtake.... Fourth gear, and the machine seemingly becomes weightless.... I then maneuver a flying feather....
Viva Bultaco!"
http://cemoto.tripod.com/
Posted by: 6Gun | February 08, 2005 at 12:41 AM
Go ahead, I DARE YOU... to smoke peyote!
It tastes like horseshit smells and gags you going down... uh, at least that's what my, uhm, friend said...
Real Horseshit psychedelic! I doubt if an authentic Arapazowee would chew less than THREE peyote buds at a time... Ralph!
Posted by: Carridine | February 08, 2005 at 01:02 AM
Hey Bub, where did you get your info for this hit piece? Some Kinko's in Texas? Everybody knows that the mountain lions name was "Che"! Did Darth Rove put you up to this, Pawn Of Power?
Posted by: rcl | February 08, 2005 at 03:51 AM
you forgot the scene where he sits outside playing his viola or double-bass or whatever
(obscure metaphor)
it's the little things
Posted by: ed in texas | February 08, 2005 at 06:35 AM
Hey, watch it, Gerard. I already have dibs on calling the Hawk a "national treasure".
not just golden, it's diamond...
Posted by: Sal | February 08, 2005 at 08:28 AM
LOL at "a cougar for his wife"!!!
And now I have the song "Cherokee Nation" stuck in my head.
Posted by: Brent | February 08, 2005 at 08:28 AM
Iowahawk, you are Airplane!, Flying Circus, and the golden ticket rolled into one. Everyone else is Jay Leno to me now. It's a shame the unwashed masses would say "huh?" instead of "Heh."
Posted by: Sam | February 08, 2005 at 08:52 AM
GawDAMMIT, I told my wife I was going to "work at home" today and then she walked by when I was reading this and she was all, "Boy, that must be a pretty funny brief you're working on there," and I was all "shit" because now I have to go "work at work."
Posted by: Pavel | February 08, 2005 at 10:07 AM
This came on right after "Alias Smith and Jones", if I remember correctly.
IMHO, this show was too derivative of "Then Came Bronson", "Kung Fu", and the "Billy Jack" movies.
The theme music was cool, though, with the Peruvian flutes and all that.
Posted by: Ward Cleaver | February 08, 2005 at 11:37 AM