In the early 80s, when I was in art college, we didn't have a VCR. That meant that dammit, we had to watch it when it was on. And "It" was Luke and Laura.
At the time, General Hospital was a whammy bar, a TKO, a show that brought the entire country to a standstill at around 2 p.m.
I used to cut classes for it, regularly. The villains were multiple, and famous. There was John Colicos, who famously portrayed a Klingon on Star Trek. A very villainous but lovable Klingon. ("It's a shame the battle has been cancelled, Kirk. It would have been glorious" is what comes to memory).
But he was the evil Cassadyne, played with total relish (onions and mustard, too). There was the skiving Strine dude, Roggeeaahh Scorpio.
Now there's only . . . Brigitte. That tiny little wraith only watches the Young And The Restless, so I try every single day to tape it faithfully for her. I don't watch it when she does but I like her being able to relax for at least an hour. I stopped commenting long ago haughtily about the posturing and insane plotlines. "It's an escape!" she would tell me. "I don't want to be reminded about reality!"
She's very right. Even the character of Victor Newman has roots in my long-ago past; he used to be not Eric Braeden but "Hans Dudegast." He played in a couple of my favorite wartime dramas, Twelve O'Clock High and Rat Patrol.
Okay, okay, that dates me.
So I feel it my civic (and loving) duty to make sure her soap is taped, at least when the fuckers don't pre-empt it for some golf tournament.
And while I lie next to her and read my book or fuck around on the computer while she watches her episode-of-the-day and Victor is deep in some soapy trouble I get a tiny spark of the thrill that I got all those Luke and Laura years ago and somehow feel that now we're both cutting classes.
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