A simpler time

My youngest is a devotee of all things Scooby. I swear, if I could find a "What Would Scooby-Doo?" lunch box, she'd bring it to school every day. She went trick-or-treating dressed as Velma two years ago, and is planning on being Daphne this year. She's used "jinkees" in casual conversation. She's into it.

So on any given day you'll find about 35% of our DVR space taken up with Scooby-Doo episodes and movies. Not that I mind all that much. I loved the Mystery, Inc., gang when I was a kid too, so watching the old "Scooby-Doo, Where Are You?" reruns with her is kind of a kick for me. It's fun to relive some of the thrills and chills of my childhood, not to mention having a shared experience with Kid No. 2.

Sometimes, I even get a glimpse of a simpler time and realize how far we've come -- for good or ill -- as a society since the late 60s-early 70s. Today, for example, we were watching an episode described in the DirecTV guide as follows:

"The Harem-Scarum Sanitarium: The gang investigates a haunted mental asylum."

Ah yes ... because as we all know, mental illness is comedic gold, baby! I kept waiting for an appearance by McMurphy, Nurse Ratched, or The Chief, but all we got was this guy: