Memories – Going, Going, Gone

Bill and I were at the pool this past weekend, bobbing around with a group of bobbers.  There was Roger and his wife Irene, Marge, Rose, another Bill, and Paul.  We were commenting on the limited summer fare on TV.

“I watched that show you recommended,” Marge said to me.  “You know, Eckles.”

“Echoes?” I asked.

“No, Eckles or Eeckles.  You know, the one with the two women.”

“Oh, you mean Rizzoli and Isles.”

“Yes.  Eckles, Isles, close enough.  Anyway, it was pretty good.”

“Don’t forget The Glades tonight,” I reminded her.  “It’s pretty good too.”

“Remember when there were really good programs on TV,” said Roger.  “Like the original Hawaii Five-0.  The new one sucks.”

“Well, James Caan’s son is good,” I commented.  “What’s his name?  Sean?  Todd?” I asked, looking at Bill for help.

“Scott.”

“Right, Scott.  And there’s always Blue Bloods.  I mean really, anything with Tom Sellack is good.”

Every female head nodded enthusiastically.  “What about his old program?” asked Irene.  “You know, the one in Hawaii.”

“Magnum,” said Bill.

“Right.  And what was that other show, honey?” I asked.  “You know, the one with the detective who had the pretty black secretary.”

“Mannix,” he said.

“That’s it.  And what about that other one.  You know the one they filmed in Vegas at that really nice, modern-looking hotel.”

“What hotel?” asked the other Bill.

“I’m not sure.  Wait, wait, ummm, it was glass and sometimes if you got to town at the right time, you’d catch them filming.  And his car was always parked out front.  Did I say it was glass?  Desert something maybe,” I said.

“Dunes?” asked Roger

“Nope.  Gone,” said Marge.

“Sahara?”

“Gone.”

“Sands?”

“Gone.”

“Flamingo?”

“Gone.”

“Wait, wait,” I interrupted.  “It was the Desert Inn.”

“Gone,” chimed in Irene and the other Bill.

“Ok, but the show was filmed there back in the late 70’s or early 80’s.  I can see the guy’s face.  His son’s an actor and he’s got a funny name.”

“Funny?” asked Bill.  “Funny like what?”

“I don’t know, just funny – different.  It’s Skippy or Scooter or something like that.”

“Okay,” Bill said.  “Different like Skippy and his father’s an actor too.”

“Yes, but I think he’s dead.”

“Who, Scooter?” asked Irene.

“No, his father,” I said.

“Alright, let me get this straight,” Bill interjected.  “It’s a show that used to be on with a dead actor whose son is named Skippy.  Have I got it all?”

“No, he was a detective and he drove a really cool care and it also used to be filmed at the Desert Inn, but that’s been blown up.”

“So Skipper/Scooter’s dead dad filmed a detective TV series in Vegas driving a really cool car at a blown-up hotel”

“Skeech!” I yelled.

“God Bless You,” Roger said.

“No, Skeech.  Skeech Urich.  His father was, ummm, was…”

“Robert,” said Bill.  “Urich.  Desert Inn.  Vegas.”

“Right.  Now if I could just think of the name of the show.”

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