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The Greatest American Hero “Here's Looking at You, Kid” (part 1 of 6)
SUMMARY: Superhero schoolteacher Ralph Hinkley and FBI agent Bill Maxwell try to retrieve a mega-advanced new army gun-sight that’s been stolen by a temp agency for mercenaries. Meanwhile, Pam’s parents are in town, and all set to get the wrong idea about Ralph, and the sweathogs are plotting to strong-arm the upcoming school elections.
So in the interim since my last Greatest American Hero recap—although “interim” hardly seems the right word to describe a yawning gap long enough to gestate a baboon—I’ve passed my oral exams for my doctorate in ancient history, I’ve acquired a new academic nemesis, and GAH creator Stephen J. Cannell has gone to his reward. Only one of these events will be important to the history of television, though that’s entirely contingent on my plans to destroy my new enemy, whom we’ll call Professor X, during a live broadcast before the horrified eyes of millions in an ultraviolent kill box à la Kick-Ass.
Actually, I feel a little bad, now that Mr. Cannell is dead, about calling attention to the colossal lameness of “The Hit Car”. You know how when you’re right in the middle of a “yo mama” smackdown, and you’re just laying a blockbuster riff on your punk-ass opponent, and all of a sudden his ticker gives out and he crashes to the ground like an imploded 1930s hotel? It’s like that. Except, I didn’t really say anything about Steve Cannell’s mama, only his shitty script. And as far as I know, the dude never dissed my moma dukes. And also, the only “yo mama” smackdown I’ve really ever actually seen is the one between Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader, which, um, yeah, not a terribly apt analogy.
Oh, and speaking of television history, our current subject has its own special niche in the splendid and unfortunately vast Museum of Television Episodes That Are Famous Despite Being Really Terrible. But more on that anon.
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Mark "Scooter" Wilson
Mark is a history guy, a graphics guy, a guy for whom wryly cynical assessments of popular culture are the scallion cream cheese on the toasted everything bagel of life. He spends his time teaching modern history at Brooklyn College, pondering the ancient Romans at the CUNY Graduate Center, and conjuring maps and illustrations for ungrateful bankers at various Manhattan monoliths. Readers are welcome to guess at reasons why he's nicknamed Scooter, with the proviso that all such submissions are guaranteed to be rather more interesting than the truth. Mark lives in the Midwood section of Brooklyn with a happy-go-lucky, flop-eared dog named Chiyo who is probably, at this very moment, waiting patiently for her walkies.
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