Just the Ten of Us in My Dreams

I had a strange dream last night that involved Bill Kirchenbauer, better known as the dad from short lived ABC sitcom “Just the Ten of Us.”

I passed him on the street and gave him a sideways glance, excited about seeing him, but wanting to be discrete.  He noticed me and yelled, saying that he was the guy from “Just the Ten of Us” and that he didn’t appreciate me looking at him because he wanted his privacy.

The dream didn’t last long, and I woke up annoyed at this man that I’ve never met.  My anger soon turned to sadness when I googled the show and found out it was canceled after two seasons.  Not because of bad ratings, but due to network politics.

Instead of anger, I’m taking a moment to thank Bill, as well as the entire cast of “Just the Ten of Us,” for two laugh filled seasons and dozens of memories.

As a tribute to the show and everything that Bill Kirchenbauer stands for, I’ve posted its opening theme song.

The next time you’re down on yourself and you think that life couldn’t get any more bleak, repeat the following:  Life is a race and I know I can win it, cause I’m learning the rules of the game.  If I can stay on the ball, take it minute by minute, I just might make the hall of fame.

I do this, and I am highly successful.  It’s no coincidence.

Savage Obsession

savageOn the list of weird things that have happened since I’ve moved to Los Angeles, Ben Savage’s obsession with me has to be near the top.

In late 2006, Mr. Savage and I crossed paths at a bar in Hollywood called The Well.  On that very same night, I stood a few feet away from another TV Legend, Scott Wolf.  The difference between Wolf and Mr. Savage is that, while I have never seen the former again, the latter has been entrenched in my life ever since.

Since that evening, I’ve seen Mr. Savage between approximately 5 and 47 times at various establishments in the Los Angeles area.  I’ve seen him at Big Wangs.  At El Guapo.  At The Beauty Bar.  At El Guapo again.  It’s a cycle that caught my attention and held my interest until things recently came to a head.

I was celebrating a friend’s birthday at a bar called Nikki’s in Venice Beach when Mr. Savage’s face  was caught in my peripheral vision.  Shocked, I tried to resume party going, but I had a feeling this night would be different from the others.  This was the night he’d come forth from the shadows and make contact.

Through some investigating, it was uncovered that he was there under the guise of having a mutual friend, who introduced us.  We both gave a polite hello even though bubbling under the surface was the truth that this was a moment years in the making.

Sometime later, I entered the rest room and was greeted by Mr. Savage who was, unsurprisingly, already relieving himself.  The only conclusion one could draw from this would be that in the years of our coincidental meetings, Mr. Savage had figured out my bladder relief cycle and timed it perfectly.

We were back to back as I “broke the seal.”  That’s always an unusually long urination for me, and finally, he spoke.

“Hey man,” Mr. Savage said.

“Hey.”

“Clearing out the pipes, huh?”

“Yep.  Always a good thing to do during a night of drinking,” I said.

“It sure is.  It’s something you have to do.”

The conversation continued for a few more seconds, with us using different words to repeat the same thing:  It’s good to pee.

We parted ways and I didn’t see him for the rest of the night, nor have I seen him since.    Some might say that I’m looking too deeply into a few coincidences and that Ben Savage has better things to do in his spare time than follow an unemployed TV Producer around at dive bars, but I think not.

While I think stalking is too strong of a word to describe these events due to a lack of malicious intent, it’s safe to say there is a bond between us.  A bond that can only form when two men who don’t know each other share a conversation about pissing in a bathroom.