"In 1972, a crack commando unit was sent to prison by a military court for a crime they didn’t commit. These men promptly escaped from a maximum security stockade to the Los Angeles underground. Today, still wanted by the government, they survive as soldiers of fortune. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can hire… The A-Team. "

 
I used to watch The A-Team when I was a child. Who wouldn’t want to watch Mr. T, covered in gold jewelry and sporting a mohawk, beat the crap out of countless bad guys (with his bare hand, no less), and then have to be knocked unconscious by his own teammates because he is terrified of flying? That’s quality television right there.

The series ran from 1983 – 1987. I have to assume that I watched it in syndication, as I doubt that my parents would have allowed me to watch a violent TV show when I was between five and nine years old. I know that I was young, but I just can’t remember how young I was when I watched it. Most of you know that I’ve got a very muddy memory, and if you didn’t know, you do now.

I think it was intended that Mr. T’s “B.A. Baracus” character be the favorite. I mean, c’mon, he had a mohawk. Why he never received a "Best Supporting Actor in a Television Series" award is beyond the grasp of my expansive knowledge. Now don’t get me wrong, B.A. was a great character. I liked him a lot. I thought then – and I still think now – that B.A. should have been the initials for “Bad Ass”, as opposed to the appropriate-for-1980′s-television-audiences “Bad Attitude”.

I’m not going to talk much about Templeton "Face" Peck. His character was likely cast for the simple reason that reluctant wives would sit through the episodes with their cavemen husbands because Face was easy on the eyes. Since he was the resident ladies man, this also provided an excuse for the directors (writers, producers, whomever) to cast a beautiful woman in – I believe – every single episode.

H.M. Murdock was my favorite character. I don’t recall whether his first name was ever revealed, as I can only remember H.M. referring to his nickname, Howlin’ Mad. Murdock was declared mentally insane, and regularly "escaped" from a mental hospital to take part in the team’s missions. Looking back, I would say that he was my favorite because I think I could relate to him and his strange “quirks” on some strange level.

John "Hannibal" Smith was the (official/unofficial?) Leader of The A-Team. I remember thinking about the appropriateness of the character who was known for wearing a multitude of disguises having the most common name in America. The only name that would have better suited him is "John Doe". Hannibal did the planning for the team’s missions. In the end, the A-Team came out on top, but the plan usually fell apart at some point. Think of the dad that gives his son a baseball bat, and tells him to swing at the ball that’s sitting on the tee. Only the father stands too close to the boy. The boy does indeed hit the ball, but it didn’t exactly go to plan for the father. The boy hit two balls too many. That’s Hannibal, the dad who has great intentions, but doesn’t always lay the best plans.

Why am I forcing you to read all this? Because of Tyler. Me talking about the A-Team is all Tyler’s fault. Strangely, it had nothing to do with the faux-hawk that we often style his hair into.

Anyway, in addition to being a master of disguise, Hannibal was a cigar smoker. He would put a cigar in his mouth, light it, draw smoke into his mouth, and immediately blow it out the side of his mouth, without inhaling it into his lungs. Puff, blow, puff, blow. That was the memory Tyler drudged up yesterday which had me mere seconds from adding The A-Team to my Netflix Queue. I still may do just that.

After Sarah fed Tyler his supper yesterday, she went to make supper for herself. Yesterday was "leftovers night". I had the pizza rigatoni that Sarah recently prepared in the crockpot. While she reheated her chili leftovers, I sat and talked to Tyler, who was still in his highchair. As he sat there, listening to me counting to ten or naming colors of objects, he put his sippy cup to his mouth, sucked water in, and drooled it out the side of his mouth three or four times. It reminded me completely of the way Hannibal smoked his cigars. The first thought that flashed in my mind (which A: I am shocked that I remembered in the first place, and B: Nobody here will understand unless you were a fan of the show) was "Tyler’s on the jazz."

I’ve been slacking off on my photo uploading, so I’m posting a picture of Tyler’s faux-hawk from January. I can’t believe how much his hair is (finally) growing.