Heck, I’ve been in retirement now, here, for a long long time. What do you want to go asking me about some TV show for young folks? -- Y’know, me and Jack Bauer were having a couple of cold ones the other day -- no more than a couple, it’s not like the old days, we both gotta watch our waistlines now -- and he asked me how I liked retirement and I said, after thinking about it for a minute, that it’s alright; taking it all in all, it is really all right.
Yeh, sure, I miss the car chases, the barroom brawls, the rooftop shoot-outs, and the dames… above all, the dames… so pretty, yet so deadly… But it gives you some time to sort things out, get your values straight, and in my case, to write up my case-files. -- Bauer cocked a skeptical eyebrow at that one. “Don’t tell me you’re going to tell’em all about the Case of the Heisted Heroin, and all that stuff you pulled?” I swore that that was exactly my plan: Just lay the whole thing out and let the people judge (modulo a few necessary improvements and lies)...
So anyway, back in my day, I said, we used to just kick down doors. And now you, nowadays, you kick’em down too, kick ‘em down even harder -- but then you *agonize* over it…
Bauer nodded and had to admit: Yeh, doing all that stuff he did, did eventually come to kind of get to him -- they even had him in Group Therapy there for a while. -- “Group *therapy*?!” I snort, and take out another Camel: but the flame is shaking as I try to light the butt.
“So, it was different for you, back in your day, huh,” sympathizes Bauer. He’s really basically a decent and a really nice guy, when he isn’t actually breaking your fingers.
“Yeh,” I said. “Back in the day -- you see a car where the keys are in the ignition, you take it out for a spin. You see a door, you kick it down. -- Just the way we were raised.”
[My drinking buddy and pointy-headed friend Doctor J has some (mostly incomprehensible) remarks about Jack and all that, here.]
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