I am into the second week of my recuperation.
I have some time on my hands.
So,
I have had time to spend time with the erudite Frasier and Niles, the down to earth Martin, Daphne and Roz in Seattle.
I also have had time to spend time with the guitar picking Andy, narcissistic Barney, Aunt Bee and Opie in Mayberry.
I enjoy the the conscious stylish minimalism of the Seattle clan.
I love the unfeigned simplicity of the Mayberry crew.
I enjoy going to those fancy soirées with Frasier and Niles, expensive wine in hand as they toss out snide and witty bon mots.
I love singing an old hymn on the front porch in the Sunday cool of the evening with Andy ‘nem.
I do have one teeny little problem with them both.
Apparently, my favorite people do not know any people who look like me, at all.
For all their suave sophistication, Niles and Frasier’s world, though in color, never comes into contact with any people of color.
Even Eddie is more white than brown.

Andy and Barney, in all of their black and white sheriffin’ splendor, never once cross paths with any people of color, not even a single criminal person of color.

Oh, I can perhaps excuse Andy and Barney’s whitewashed community.
It was a sign of the times in which they moved and lived and had their being.
But Frasier and Niles, were there no bourgeoisie people of color in your snooty milieu?

Thirty years between the two and I am still on the outside looking in.

I have to find new friends!