It’s nearly the middle of another week that feels quite unproductive. The situation isn’t improved by my inability to sit at the computer for long periods, as I need to keep my leg straight. Nonetheless, I should return to work soon; I just have to exhaust a bit more sick leave.
On a brighter note, I’ve had the chance to catch some classic shows that I wouldn’t typically watch when well—like Quincy ME, which aired from 1976 to September 5, 1983, featuring the wonderfully loud Jack Klugman, who takes on the indifferent establishment.
I was very fond of the following formula:
A person dies, apparently from natural causes.
While conducting lab tests, Quincy sips coffee prepared by Sam with a flask and Bunsen burner, only to comment on its dreadful taste.
Something catches Quincy’s attention, making him suspect foul play.
He shifts from his role as a medical examiner to that of a detective, refusing to release the body and sign the cause of death, to Dr. Asten’s discontent.
Quincy expresses his dissatisfaction with Sam’s awful coffee.
Asten becomes frustrated, convinced that Quincy is imagining evidence, and pushes the doctor to wrap up his investigation and accept the obvious findings. He frequently argues with Quincy, stating he cannot justify extended investigation costs but eventually concedes to give Quincy 24 hours. Lt. Monahan is also irritated as Quincy encroaches on police territory.
Quincy enters into a heated argument with a bureaucratic figure hindering the case.
Quincy requests Sam to “cover for me” while he continues his detective work as the coroner. This often means asking his assistant to conduct tedious and time-heavy tests that last all night. Although Sam grumbles about canceling his social plans, he ultimately complies.
The next morning, Quincy arrives at the lab eager for an update from Sam and once again complains about the horrible coffee.
Quincy ultimately solves the murder mystery, gaining the acceptance of even the most obstinate bureaucratic officials.
At the episode’s conclusion, all primary characters gather at Danny’s restaurant to celebrate.
There’s even a well-known Quincy drinking game.
Additionally, I checked out a strange Russian animated film from the 1970s that critiqued Capitalism by telling the story of a destitute couple forced to live in a shooting gallery because their greedy boss could profit more from having live targets for shooting, all set to a jarring “jazz” soundtrack. I drew the line at Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman!
On a positive note, my knee appears to be significantly less swollen today, and I plan to make an effort to go to work next week.
by Jim Aborwhear
