I love The Rockford Files. I really do, and I think the rest of the world should, too. The plots are involving, the characters are shady and unapologetic and complex, nothing is simple, and everything is surprisingly well-written.
Take, for example, this moment. The somewhat skeevy Angel Martin comes to visit his ex-convict buddy Jim Rockford in his trailer. He finds Rockford and his dad, Rocky, deeply immersed in a chess game. Angel glances at the board, snorts scornfully, and makes the following statement:
"This here game’s over, man! You’ve gotta move your boss or Rocky’s gonna lay a subpoena on him. And his torpedo’s gonna smoke your ol’ lady! And all your heavies are gonna be doin’ time, except for maybe your mouthpiece—and Rocky’s sheriff’s got him put in a corner. You got nothin’ but punks and junkies! You’re through, Jimmy!"
How perfect is that swath of metaphoric beauty, I ask you? Who wrote this stuff? Where is that kind of writing today?
Scott and I saw that scene again on Netflix recently: you can watch every single "Rockford Files" episode for free on "Watch Now" these days if you're a Netflix subscriber.
Another reason why life is good.