Rest In Peace, Gilligan!

More sad news to report: Bob Denver--Gilligan--the star of the 70s sitcom, "Alice," and the man who filled thousands of hours of my youth in his lovingly bumbleheaded quest not to get off an island, has died.

Oh, Gilligan, today I tip my white sailor's cap to you to thank you for the memories. I can still remember sitting right back, and hearing a tale, a tale of a fateful trip... you know the one, the one that was supposed to be a three hour tour. A three hour tour! Instead, Gilligan, that trip of yours lasted so long, the muscles of my legs atrophied as I sat immobile and googly-eyed in front of the small Epstein family television set, awaiting your rescue.

You know, when the Harlem Globetrotters came, I felt sure, that, that was going to be the day you and the other castaways--the Skipper (brave and sure), The Millionaire and his wife, the Movie Star... and the rest--would return to the civilized world. But it was not to be. They left you stranded on that island with a witch doctor, with cannibals and a young Jeff Probst, who was the real threat, already lurking in the brush, waiting to kill your sitcom with the advent of "reality" TV.

But today is about remembering you as a cultural icon, and Bob Denver, you will be missed. Thankfully, though, I'll be able to see you on reruns in perpetuity. Rest in peace, little buddy, rest in peace.