You can’t even begin to imagine what I’d give to spend a carefree Saturday morning huddled up inside my blanket fort staring intently at the television screen. Alas, I’m seventeen, and Uncle Sam will secure a home under a highway for me if I dare live like I’m seven. Woe is me, for now I’m confined to a realm of nostalgia and reminiscence. I invite you to join.
Dear Space Ghost, I could have single-handedly been a much more useful sidekick than Jan, Jace, and Blip put together. You wouldn’t ever have to risk your precious superhero life to save me from space sharks, robots, or super computers. Just think, we could have done sequels together, but look where you ended up without me — cancelled.
I feel like judo was a required skill set for minors on Jonny Quest, which settles me somewhere between unqualified and completely useless. Sadly, I’m forced to admire the Quest team and all their talents from a distance while I try to work out the intricacies of a coffee maker. Oh well, at least they dismissed the working title, The Saga of Chip Baloo.
Ah, Scooby Doo; a Great Dane, his human, a wall flower, a babe, and a man with an ascot. The angst is blinding. I never agreed much with the gang’s “splitting up,” but they always found the most efficient method of meddling. They weren’t always the brightest bunch, but they’ve earned an A+ in my book and a soft spot in my heart.