Irony sent this over to me because he knew it was right up my alley. His too. Hippie’s also.
We’re big fans of the old Quinn Martin production shows, mainly because they’re fun to riff on. Way before Police Squad parodied the Quinn Martin habit of naming their episodes, we were doing that.
Tonight’s Episode: Hickory, Dickory Death
Tonight’s Episode: No Shirt, No Shoes, No Head
Tonight’s Episode: Ring Around the Coffin
We have a love/hate relationship with all of those 70s shows, Quinn Martin or not. For every Rockford Files, Kojak and Streets of San Francisco there was a total crap one. (I won’t name names lest I offend anyone’s sensibilities.)
Even some shows that I liked I still make fun of. I liked Quincy, but it suffered from the same basic flaw as Columbo.
Quincy was constantly maligned in every episode as being rogue, paranoid, a real pest to the system. Yet, every week he cracked a murder. You think for once he’d earn some respect.
‘YOU’RE OFF ON A WILD GOOSE CHASE, QUINCY!! GIVE IT A REST OR WE’LL PUT YOU ON A LEAVE OF ABSENCE!!!”
Columbo shows up at a murder scene and you can see patrol officers in the background covering their mouths and laughing. The guy isn’t a legend in the force? He only solves an intricate murder every week. (Even though I have always maintained that most of the time the way Columbo “gets his murderer” the evidence would never hold up in court. Why the idiots confess at the end is beyond me.)
Having said all of this, here’s a hilarious take on Columbo —>
The signs that you’re a murderer on Columbo
-You are insufferably smug, and rude to waiters, valet staff, elevator attendants, and your own relatives.
-You are either brusque and indifferent or overly affectionate to dogs.
-You are either a highly paid psychiatrist, a world-renowned composer, a high-ranking naval officer, or a mystery novelist with a pilot’s license.
-You have offered Lieutenant Columbo a higher-paying job, an expensive glass of scotch, or a better brand of cigar than the one he is currently smoking.
-You are wearing a turtleneck under a camel-hair sportcoat.
-Columbo has asked you a serious of innocuous questions about the value of your home. You are outwardly composed while answering him, but your smile does not reach your eyes.
-If you are a woman, you dress like Margaret Dumont in a Marx Brothers film. If you are a man, you dress like Thurston Howell III.
-Your step-daughter hates you.
-You are shocked, shocked to learn that you could possibly be considered a suspect, but your shock is polite and amused and you are perfectly willing to entertain the detective’s theories as long as they don’t make you late for lunch.
-Although you are a native of Los Angeles, you speak with a flawless Mid-Atlantic accent. Your consonants could cut glass.
-You’re Jack Cassidy.
-You become 20% less genial toward the police every ten minutes.
I have some:
-You’re a massively popular pop star who sings songs that are completely out of fashion.
-You’re a genius in your field, but there’s an up and coming hot shot kid fresh out of college stealing your thunder.
-You’re a starlet about 4 years past her most smoking hot days.
-Your giant house, fancy car, fabulous wardrobe and 24 hour house staff only contributes to just how miserable you are.
-You have a lawyer on speed dial.