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Monday, June 12, 2017

The Writer's Life 6/12 - Grand Finale

Last night MeTV, channel 33 on Cablevision in NYC, aired the 68th and last episode of Columbo. A young night club owner was the murderer. He was played by Welshman Matthew Rhys, who is in the midst of a very successful career. Although this was the first I'd seen of him, he has an impressive resume, 46 titles listed under his name at IMDb. Among his credits, he is one of the principals on The Americans, and he did 109 episodes of Brothers and Sisters. The episode was solid, flashier than most, as much of it takes place during raves awash in colorful lighting and featuring electronic dance music. I recognized only two of the actors: Jorge Garcia, who began his run as Hugo on Lost shortly thereafter, and Bensonhurst's own Steve Schirripa, who played a mob messenger dispatched from New York. Peter Falk exhibited his usual flair in the role of the rumpled, lovable detective. He made only nine more screen appearances after Columbo, the last in 2009. Of the role he said: "Being chased by Columbo is like being nibbled to death by a duck." He passed away in 2011. Born in Ossining NY, he received a Masters in Public Administration from Syracuse University. He won four Emmy's for the role that made him an international star, and another for his performance on The Dick Powell Show in 1961. He was nominated twice for an Oscar in the Supporting Actor category. The highlight of the final episode of the beloved series was the presence of Jennifer Sky, a blond beauty whose character accidentally kills her ex-husband, setting the plot in motion. She has had a modest career, 25 titles including 28 appearances as the star of Cleopatra 2525. Her last credit came in 2010. Perhaps she is focusing on modeling. Here's a magazine cover shot she did. Note the caption. Maybe it explains why she isn't acting at present. I thought her performance was good. Perhaps I was simply dazzled by her beauty.

The floating book shop opened today despite the heat. My thanks to the young man who purchased a work of non-fiction on the mind. He related sad news. His former girlfriend, who I hadn't seen in perhaps a year, passed away. She choked to death while eating. Her mom was in the next room. Jen, who had a degree in Literature, wasn't even 35. She'd been sober two years. It makes me want to rail at the heavens. Alas, what good would it do?
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