Unlike my husband, my childhood TV viewing did not include Highlander. Now that it’s streaming on Netflix, he is re-watching it. And you know what? I dig it.
Oh, friends, we’re chock full of love, lust and loneliness in this week’s Ode to The Letter O. Stick through until the end since I’ve left you all a present. Oh yes.
Some time during the 2004 Summer Olympics, I became a tennis fan. The Mister played tennis in high school and did a few more “official” junior tournaments, up until the point he blew out his shoulder. (Turns out, it’s not a good idea for a 16-year-old to have a 120 mph serve without resting properly. Who knew?) Later, he would still watch tennis, and I’d half-pay attention, but I didn’t really know the rules or any of the players. Then, the afternoon when Olympic tennis was on in 2004, I got sucked in. Match after match, country after country – the rules started to make a bit more sense. I was invested. Since then, it’s become about the only sport I watch, which is something my American football-loving mother may never understand.
Are we surprised that I’ve found another BBC show to watch? No. I’d heard great things about Luther, but what with all the Doctor Who binging, I’d yet to start watching until last night. To be honest, I wondered if I’d have something to say beyond, “Idris Elba is a very attractive man.”