Cheaters? Who cares?

Way back when I was in like 5th or 6th grade, one of my first LP records was by David Gates & Bread, featuring this song.  I played it on my GE clamshell record player, as Dad didn't exactly favor my using his Fairchild 412 studio quality turntable with the Shure V-15 diamond elliptical stylus-equipped cartridge, tracking at 3/4 gram.



Over the past month, on those boring Saturday nights, I've caught bits and pieces of Cheaters on some fly-by-night UHF station.  Now, for all I know, the show, ostensibly ratting out the unfaithful, may have as much reality to it as a WWF event.  I do know that I could pretty much script and block an episode in about two minutes:

• Meet with aggrieved party/client.
• Follow alleged cheater.
• Meet again with client, prepare for the reveal, ask the client what he/she is feeling.
• Execute the confrontation:  "You're a f------ -----!"  "F--- you!"  "Why the f--- are you doing this?!"  "No, f--- you!"  "F--- you first!"  "F--- you twice!" "Oh yeah? F--- you times infinity!"
• Attempt to isolate and interview the alleged cheater, while f-bombs explode all around.
• Insist that client tell you what they're 'feeling' and request for them to wax philosophical on their newfound knowledge.
• End of episode.

It never occurred for me to engage a private eye back in the day.  And although mine eyes have been opened in some ways, I guess this song pretty much sums up my philosophical musing:

followed by:

Hasten down the wind...