Sunday, February 19, 2006



Why Isn't B.A. in this picture?I've had the weekend off. Just had a couple days to kick back, take it easy. See, my birthday's Monday. Number Twenty-Nine. Took a little while to read a book, see a movie, think about where I've been and just where it is I'm going.

Whenever I get introspective, whenever I start thinking about life and waxing philosophic, whenever I just let my mind wander and flow over its natural course, wondering what just what exactly it's all about, I often end up wandering in the same maze of philosphical questions.

Just how much did it cost to hire the A-Team? I've always assumed they were paid in cash, but I was never sure, since I never really saw money change hands.

Would their pricetag cost more or less if they actually shot at and hit the targets?

Why did B.A. drink anything other than something he'd poured himself?

What did Hannibal do to instill loyalty in B.A.? Especially considering how many times they pulled that sleeping-pill trick on the guy. Seriously. If anybody had reason to shoot a teammate in the stomach, it would be B.A. for that whole "sleeping pill/smuggle me on the plane" thing that happened, like, three times a season.

If there were a pie-eating contest among the members of the team, who would win? (I think B.A. is a natural choice, but Murdoch has a two-fold advantage...little skinny man's metabolism and the fact that he's howling mad, and therefore more willing to risk injury in the name of victory in a pie-eating contest.)

Did anybody really like Faceman?

Image hosting by PhotobucketAnd, lastly, in the fictional world of The A-Team, was professional wrestling real? Or was B.A. just a really big mark, and people are just too scared to tell him that it's predetermined? I mean, B.A. was friends with Hulk Hogan, and they had an adventure together, one episode. And B.A.'s at a match where Hulk's fighting Greg "the Hammer" Valentine (I think), and B.A.'s just eating it up.

Was even the Immortal Hulk Hogan afraid of what might happen if B.A.'s fantasy world, where wrestling is real and his friends don't drug him on a thrice-yearly basis, comes crashing down around his feet?

Were his skills that important to the team?

I dunno. If it's me, it doesn't matter just how strong he his, how scary his haircut is, just how well he drives that badass A-Team Van. I think if his grip and/or understanding of reality is that tenuous, he just might not be the guy I want standing next to me with an M-16. But that's just me.

Here's my's what I say to myself, to get myself to carry on through the day, sleep at night and keep my stomach acids from burning a hole in my gut: Maybe he owned the title on the van.

You gotta admit. That van was pretty sweet.

And knowing soldiers of fortune like I do, I know that you can't be effective soliders of fortune, without having a badass van.

And if B.A. owns the van, then I'm cool with his getting to carry a gun. It's simply the price you pay, for getting to ride in a sweet ride like the A-Team van.


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