Wednesday, September 08, 2004
The Bloodhound Detective Agency
(Warning: Elusive Cultural References; try to keep up, OK?)
Who remembers the PBS show “321 Contact”?
Hmmm, let’s count the hands... A few of us raised our hands. Quick, put your hands down before the cool kids find out that we watched that geek show. Phew, imagine explaining that at the reunion. The Bloodhound Detective Agency was a short, episodic series contained in “321 Contact” about three young detectives who worked and solved crimes for their boss, Mr. Bloodhound. It was one of the more interesting things about “321 Contact”, other than the catchy theme song. “Contact, is the reason, is the answer, why everything happens. Contact…”
I digress. The Blood Hound Detective Agency. Every episode began with the one of the kids answering the phone and saying, “Bloodhound Detective Agency. Mr. Bloodhound isn’t here.” In fact, Mr. Bloodhound was never there, but he still seemed to get a lot done. Under the auspices of his three young helpers, numerous crimes were solved using science and strong moral character - your typical PBS fare. And yet, I wonder. Where did Mr. Bloodhound disappear to? Did his three young helpers do him in and take over his business? Did he fall and break a hip? Obviously, he hasn’t been seen for years, and those good-for-nothings back at his office refuse to go look for him. Hmm… maybe he never existed at all and he was a figment of those deranged teenagers’ imaginations…
Thinking of these things, my mind wanders to other TV characters that did not exist – The Knight Rider for one. Oh, sure, David Hasselhoff’s character was “real” enough (even if the car was not), but we are clearly told in the opening credits that the show is, “A shadowy flight into the world of a man who does not exist.” So, he’s on TV, but he doesn’t exist? Try wrapping your TV-addled 21st century mind around that one. OK, here it is – The Knight Rider is the exact opposite of our good Mr. Bloodhound. Whereas you never saw Bloodhound, but were told he existed, Michael Knight appeared every week on TV, yet we were told that he, in fact, did not exist. It’s amazing our pre-pubescent minds could digest it.
There are more… The examination of the existence of non-existent persons seems to crop up in nearly every TV show. Perhaps these persons are mere plot devices used to give the show a sense of continuity. Perhaps they are comic relief. Still, I want to know: Who is Robin Masters? Magnum P.I. didn’t even know who he was, and he was the best detective on TV (or at least he had the coolest car; these things tend to blur in little boys’ minds). Was there ever a real Mr. Body? Why do we never see the Tholian Ambassador on Star Trek?
And so, then, I wonder. Do I exist? Or am I merely a plot device developed to ensure continuity in our world? Or, am I a comic reference, perhaps? There seem to be plenty of references to me, just ask the bill collectors, but bills do not strike me as very comical. Sadly, as we have seen from our exercise above, references to one’s person are no guarantee of existence. Just ask Robin Masters – if you can find him. My daily routine doesn’t prove much either. Just like Michael Knight, I still may not “exist”.
I find all this very troublesome, and I can’t seem to figure it out.
Its too bad Mr. Bloodhound isn’t here…
Who remembers the PBS show “321 Contact”?
Hmmm, let’s count the hands... A few of us raised our hands. Quick, put your hands down before the cool kids find out that we watched that geek show. Phew, imagine explaining that at the reunion. The Bloodhound Detective Agency was a short, episodic series contained in “321 Contact” about three young detectives who worked and solved crimes for their boss, Mr. Bloodhound. It was one of the more interesting things about “321 Contact”, other than the catchy theme song. “Contact, is the reason, is the answer, why everything happens. Contact…”
I digress. The Blood Hound Detective Agency. Every episode began with the one of the kids answering the phone and saying, “Bloodhound Detective Agency. Mr. Bloodhound isn’t here.” In fact, Mr. Bloodhound was never there, but he still seemed to get a lot done. Under the auspices of his three young helpers, numerous crimes were solved using science and strong moral character - your typical PBS fare. And yet, I wonder. Where did Mr. Bloodhound disappear to? Did his three young helpers do him in and take over his business? Did he fall and break a hip? Obviously, he hasn’t been seen for years, and those good-for-nothings back at his office refuse to go look for him. Hmm… maybe he never existed at all and he was a figment of those deranged teenagers’ imaginations…
Thinking of these things, my mind wanders to other TV characters that did not exist – The Knight Rider for one. Oh, sure, David Hasselhoff’s character was “real” enough (even if the car was not), but we are clearly told in the opening credits that the show is, “A shadowy flight into the world of a man who does not exist.” So, he’s on TV, but he doesn’t exist? Try wrapping your TV-addled 21st century mind around that one. OK, here it is – The Knight Rider is the exact opposite of our good Mr. Bloodhound. Whereas you never saw Bloodhound, but were told he existed, Michael Knight appeared every week on TV, yet we were told that he, in fact, did not exist. It’s amazing our pre-pubescent minds could digest it.
There are more… The examination of the existence of non-existent persons seems to crop up in nearly every TV show. Perhaps these persons are mere plot devices used to give the show a sense of continuity. Perhaps they are comic relief. Still, I want to know: Who is Robin Masters? Magnum P.I. didn’t even know who he was, and he was the best detective on TV (or at least he had the coolest car; these things tend to blur in little boys’ minds). Was there ever a real Mr. Body? Why do we never see the Tholian Ambassador on Star Trek?
And so, then, I wonder. Do I exist? Or am I merely a plot device developed to ensure continuity in our world? Or, am I a comic reference, perhaps? There seem to be plenty of references to me, just ask the bill collectors, but bills do not strike me as very comical. Sadly, as we have seen from our exercise above, references to one’s person are no guarantee of existence. Just ask Robin Masters – if you can find him. My daily routine doesn’t prove much either. Just like Michael Knight, I still may not “exist”.
I find all this very troublesome, and I can’t seem to figure it out.
Its too bad Mr. Bloodhound isn’t here…
R.T. Lemur 9:17 AM
4 Comments:
And where are the references to Remmington Steele? The man who really didn't exist--but people pretended did exist?
Kids Incorporated, Electric Company, Reading Rainbow - they all blended into Soul Train and American Bandstand and Dance Party USA. There was a girl named Princess who was a huge Prince fan that wore a crystal teardrop and she said that she wouldn't take it off until she met Prince. I wonder if she ever got to meet Prince or did she finally give all that up when he did the symbol thing. Or did she finally get to meet him on his recent tour? Where is the "Where are they now?" show for the people like this who shaped our lives?
Charlie on Charlie's Angels.
It's funny that I read your blog entry on this today, Mr. Lemur, because just this morning I was trying to remember the lyrics of a DeBarge song called "Who's [Donna]". It went "Who's [Donna] she said/[something, something, something]."
And I thought of how those lyrics could only seem cool in the '80s. Who cares who Donna (or whatever her name was) is? Who cares about "Who's That Girl?" besides Madonna and her 20 clones? Who is desperately seeking Susan? Not me.
The eighties were big into enigmatic people. I wonder why.
It's funny that I read your blog entry on this today, Mr. Lemur, because just this morning I was trying to remember the lyrics of a DeBarge song called "Who's [Donna]". It went "Who's [Donna] she said/[something, something, something]."
And I thought of how those lyrics could only seem cool in the '80s. Who cares who Donna (or whatever her name was) is? Who cares about "Who's That Girl?" besides Madonna and her 20 clones? Who is desperately seeking Susan? Not me.
The eighties were big into enigmatic people. I wonder why.
A tough one, Remington Steele. The character is an unidentified man with an ambiguous past pretending to be an imaginary man with no past at all (or present for that matter). Hmm, that’s a minefield of psychodrama that’s going to make one psychiatrist very, very rich.