Lemsip and Netflix

T'Pol! Bless you.

Manflu struck the grumpy household last week. It was pretty nasty, as you can imagine. But no problem! We have a well established routine when this happens.

Mrs G is immune, being a) indestructible and b) not a man, so she simply fills her diary with extra yoga, pottery, cello, and days out with her Fancy Man, so she can avoid my whining and sniffling. She does look after me though; before she disappears for a week, she leaves a cheery note, a new Sinex, and six tins of Heinz chicken soup by the marital bed.

My routine? I simply fall off my perch, and confine myself to said bed, dosing up with lozenges, linctus, and Lucozade. I then stare at the ceiling for days, or when I’m feeling better, watch daytime TV. You know, stuff like ‘Pebble Mill at One’¹.

Except this time is different. This time, we have Netflix.

When healthy I don’t watch much telly, so am behind with viewing. I borrowed a box set of ‘Breaking Bad’ a year ago and haven’t started it yet. But when feeling ropey, what better distraction than to load up old episodes of something?

So - what to watch? Nothing too taxing for my snottified brain. Hmmm. I always liked ‘Star Trek’ with its cool sixties vibe, Captain Kirk holding his belly in, Scotty’s preposterous accent (‘She cannae take it cap’n!), and seductive alien ladies in weeny dresses. But above all, I liked Mr Spock with his excellent ears and unflappable emotionless logic, which failed him every other episode, to great dramatic effect.

But I’ve seen all of them. Perhaps something similar?

Enter ‘Enterprise’. A prequel, with more or less the same plots, but better special effects. Give it a try, I thought. And it’s a winner! They still have quirky characters and bonkers aliens, with a doctor who is a quirky character AND a bonkers alien, but this time, they also have a secret weapon. They have t’Pol.

T’Pol, like Mr Spock, is a Vulcan². But t’Pol is a Vulcan lady. Not only does she have pointy ears, but she also has a very well-developed pair of personality. And Vulcans being super-efficient, she has determined that wasteful cloth is superfluous, so it’s only logical to wear a skintight costume with no underwear. Moreover, whenever the crew visit a planet, they have to decontaminate afterwards by rubbing each other down with E45 cream in a hi-tech sauna. Splendid! It takes me fifteen episodes to decide I like it.

All too soon manflu wears off, and I’m better. No more ‘Enterprise’ for UberGrumpy. Except now and again, when I'm feeling nostalgic, I might sneak one. Eighty-five episodes to go...

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1 - If you don't remember Pebble Mill At One, then you are too young to be reading this blog. Off you go.
2 – All Vulcans these days have names with apostrophes, although they’re not Irish, it’s an alien thing; they don’t tend to be called e.g. O’Malley.