Thoughts on CSI

I learned a few days ago that Laurence Fishburne wants to leave CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, presumably to work on his movie career, as speculated in the Yahoo! article.

The article went on to describe the show as "once powerful," as it was a highly-rated (and ranked) drama. However, at the end of its eleventh season, it was in thirtieth place.

Fishburne replaced William Petersen about eight or nine episodes into the 2009-2010 season, so the latter could pursue stage work opportunities. With Fishburne's departure, and Marg Helgenberger's desire to work "only a few episodes" next season, it got me to thinking about the show.

I must admit the show grew on me when my girlfriend and I watched syndicated episodes on Spike TV. (Because of her having lived in Vegas, where the show is set and on-location scenes are filmed, watching the show took on a certain surreal quality.)

Given certain cast members' departures over its history and the show's slide, I wonder if it's time to retire this procedural crime drama? I'm not saying CBS should do it, nor am I advocating that it be done. However, while it's still relatively popular (at least it's thirtieth in rank and not dead last), it might be a good time to for the show to leave on a high note. It's not without precedent.

I'm also a fan of Star Trek, and I remember when Star Trek: The Next Generation (ST:TNG)ended. One article I read at the time was that the cast and crew essentially supported the decision. While they still enjoyed performing their roles, and the series remained popular, costs would only climb as time went on. At least the show would end on a high note in terms of popularity, and it did.

I also remember Who Wants to be a Millionaire, a really popular game show that achieved such a high viewership that ABC had to air it around six nights a week with host Regis Philbin. I tired of the show because of its heavy (and dominating) on-air presence. Since those days, the show's popularity cooled to "normal" levels, and the show is now hosted by Meredith Vieira.

But Millionaire and CSI: are two different animals. Game shows such as Millionaire are relatively inexpensive to produce. While I don't have access to those numbers, a week's budget of CSI: might be able to cover a season's worth of game show production expenses. Furthermore, game show sponsors help defray production expenses, either through cash payments or more importantly, through prizes.

Dramas such as ST:TNG and CSI: don't have such an advantage, and their production costs are higher because of overhead such as the cast's salaries, special effects work, and so on.

I have seen maybe one episode of CSI: since Fishburne came on board in the lead role formerly held by Petersen, and it's been a while, so I cannot comment as to the quality of the show.

All else being equal, however, no show can realistically or reasonably sustain a high level of popularity over a long time. While a handful of dramas that come to mind (Gunsmoke, Bonanza, the original Law & Order) managed to maintain a high degree of popularity over their runs, these examples are several exceptions to what is otherwise common. Millionaire's fire waned after a time, partly due, I think, to its overexposure. I know I got sick of it early on.

Getting back to what was once a number-one rated show, I would be saddened if CSI: were cancelled, but on the other hand, doing it now would let the show end with dignity, and fans would be able to rejoice over such a move. It sure beats languishing until it dies an ignominious death, having faded into obscurity.

One question is whether it has jumped the shark. I can't comment on this, partly because I haven't watched it for some time. However, I do remember some plotlines that left something to be desired, such as Nick Stokes' (George Eads) being kidnapped and buried alive in a coffin that had a voyeuristic web connection so web viewers could "see" the goings-on of the victim before he dies. Does that qualify as having "jumped the shark"? I don't know, but taken by itself, it would mean the show did so long ago in an earlier season.

F&M Hobbies Post-Fred: One Year Later

My usual hobbyshop, F&M Hobbies, underwent a change of hands last year when its founder, Fred Moglia, retired and sold the business to its current owner, Jim Dobis. Today is the first anniversary of that transition.

As I noted in my blog post of March 10, 2010 (at http://bit.ly/a21TXI), I noted my surprise and optimism about the future of a well-regarded local hobbyshop, and I am happy to report that things are still looking good, from what I can tell, based on the two or three visits I've since my March 2010 visit.

Changes were to be expected, and in talking to Jim, the new owner, last March, "significant" changes were not in the immediate future, so the store essentially looks much as it did under Fred's ownership. But there have been some smaller, albeit noticeable, alterations.

The biggest change is external, to one of the display bay windows. The store has two on the front, which hold various models and other merchandise displayed. The one to the left of the entrance no longer functions as a display window. Jim removed those displays and now uses that space to hold a variety of R/C car kits.

Another change is in the store's hours. Under Fred, the store was open Tuesday and Thursday through Sunday, for a total of 35 hours per week, and during the summer was closed on Tuesdays. Jim expanded the hours to 43 per week, an increase of 22.9 percent. He did this by opening on Wednesdays and adding an extra hour to Saturday.

More impressive, I think, is his new opening and closing times. The weekday opening times are still eleven a.m., but the closing times are now different. Depending on the day of the week, he closes at either six or eight. Instead of the old Saturday hours of ten to five, he's open eleven to eight, with Sunday's 11-3 unchanged.

Jim's changing the hours no doubt in response to his customers' requests, which he told me he'd solicit back when I first met him a year ago, and I am pleased he's open longer for his customers' benefit.

Other changes were more subtle, such as items that had been restocked and a new monitor for the computer on the counter. One day when I visited, he was listing items for sale on eBay, to clear out merchandise that wasn't moving at all.

While I still miss Fred, being the character that he was, it is gratifying to see Jim Dobis's apparent success twelve months later. By buying an existing business, Jim was able to maintain the momentum of a long-established hobbyshop and use it to carry him forward.

Now What Do I Do?

After two and a half months of not hearing from James Reeves, my best friend of eighteen years, I received an email from him in early December 2010, addressed to Kelly, my girlfriend, and me. While I was pleased to hear from him, it was nothing I expected, given its tone.

Right out of the gate, he was upset that I had the audacity to get my cellphone back up instead of sending him the money.

Huh? He knows I'm looking for work, yet he prefers that I give him priority repaying him over my getting a job? How is that fair to me?

This past August, he loaned us sixty dollars so I could ship some items I'd sold on a Yahoo! group, as well as for some expenses. I promised to repay him as soon as I could, but our living expenses had to be met first.

Never mind that our precarious situation put us in survival mode; in his eyes, "for all intents and purposes, we have stolen from" him.

"This is just the latest in a long string of broken promises you have made to me," he wrote. "This is also the last promise that you will break, because effective immediately, I am ending all contact with both of you, except on a strictly business level." To "tie up the loose ends," he discussed that issue and others which I will spare the reader.

If I read his letter correctly, Jim was willing to throw away eighteen years of friendship over a sixty-dollar debt. I never knew our friendship had a price tag.

I have decided to repay him the full sixty dollars as soon as I can, so he can make no claims of magnanimity. Once I do that, the ball will be in his court.

I wonder about the seemingly sudden change in his behavior. I know he's been taking several medications, and perhaps one or two have either brought about this change, or have made him susceptible to suggestions from someone else, such as his wife. (It's also no secret among us that Kelly is no favorite of Jim's wife, who could have written that letter.)

Kelly and I feel Jim's action dates back to October 2008, when she won $25,000 on a progressive penny slot machine, taking home $17,000 after taxes. Our mistake was sharing the good news with him, someone to whom Kelly owes several thousand dollars by his calculation. That money is irretrievably gone now, and he's bitter and jealous about it - especially since she made no effort to repay part of her debt to him.

Kelly also made an observation about Jim. He's fine when things are going well for him, i.e., he enjoys "financial superiority," but it's apparently unacceptable to him when someone he knows experiences good fortune, all else being equal.

I'm left asking this question: Now what do I do?

Supposing Jim realizes what he's done, and comes back to me, apology in hand, what am I supposed to say or do? Aside from his apology, which I'd graciously accept, what can I say? What is there to say? If Jim chooses to resume our friendship (a mighty big "if" at this point), and I agree, his action would irrevocably color it going forward. Moreover, I doubt I'd be able to forgive him. (Of course, this is purely speculative at this point, and that bridge will be crossed when/if I ever come to it.)

Jim and I met at a model railroad club in 1992. Our shared interest led to collaborations to enhance our model railroads' realism.

Now, assuming our friendship is indeed "dead and buried," I'm left wondering what I'm supposed to do with this legacy. Do I continue with it, as though nothing happened, or do I act as though our joint efforts never took place? Fully half of our endeavors have been left empty and wanting, through his severing our friendship.

I also wonder what I am to do with cars and engines he's given me over the years. For Christmas the year he moved from New Jersey to Florida, for example, he gave me a switcher painted in a proposed scheme for his model railroad. Under the premise of our friendship's being "done," what am I supposed to do with it? Do I sell it, repaint it, or leave it as-is? Similarly, what about the various cars he's given me, usually as gifts? Given they fit my era and locale, I'll keep them.