It was a pretty unassuming day; the day I can honestly say I realized my childhood was dead. We had walked the beach with friends and picked up some tasty pastries at a local bakery. Maybe not a “normal” day for us, but an enjoyable one.
Maybe that should have tipped us off. Maybe a beautifully sunshiny day in Seattle, with delicious pastries and a walk on an uncrowded beach should have been our sign.
Maybe things had been too perfect.
We found our evening winding down on the couch watching some bad TV. That’s pretty standard for us. Again, unassuming.
Tragedy struck when our viewing of Van Helsing ended and I grabbed the TiVo remote. I brought up the guide looking for more bad, Saturday night TV, when I stumbled on the DIY Network and saw “I Pity the Tool.”
As a child of the 80’s I’m naturally a Mr. T lover, having many a fond memory of enjoying the A-Team at an age that was probably pretty inappropriately young to watch it… But hey, it was the 80’s. This all means, that the name alone was enough for me to seek additional info.
Had I assumed they would only use such a phrase if he was on the show, maybe my pain could have been avoided, but I honestly didn’t. My brain went “I pity the fool!” But often my brain goes to those places when no one else’s does, so I usually assume no one else is thinking that.
But they were.
And now my childhood is dead.
No childhood nostalgia can be retained when you see “I Pity the Tool” and find a DIY show starring Mr. T.
Oh, man, Mr. T, you stabbed me right in the childhood.