Seriously. If you need some mind candy, this is the show. James Caan at his cheesy tough guy best. Josh Duhamel for the ladies. Various chiquitas for the guys. And the best female addition to a TV cast since Stockard Channing as Abby Bartlet: Cheryl Ladd as James Caan's wife.
Cheryl Ladd is the magnetic force around which all my childhood dreams revolved. She was the blond Charlie's Angel which means I mandated that I got to be her when my friends and I pretended to be Charlie's Angels on my street after school. She replaced Farrah, but there was no point in wishing you were Farrah. NOBODY was Farrah. But Cheryl Ladd was pretty in an achievable way. Not that she was achievable, but certainly more within the realm of remote possibility in a way that Farrah was not. She was always in a bikini or in a roller derby outfit or in a 50's diner waitress skimpy outfit. Kind of like Jennifer Garner in Alias, only without the overt a** kicking. I loved Cheryl Ladd. If there is such a thing as a non-sexual crush, I had one for her.
So picture a wee fat Scottish girl on a Scottish street playing private detective with her non-blonde friends, using her finger as a gun, doing that three-way "Freeze!" they all did simultaneously for dramatic effect. Good times, man, good times.
Short Story Long: You know you're old when the hot girl from your beloved childhood TV show is now the MOTHER of this generation's hot girl...