Jonathan Creek

It's safe to say there are at least three distinctly British things I am obsessed with:  the Cotswolds, Victoria sponge cake, and Jonathan Creek.  When I was about 12 or 13, I'd check out coffee table books on "Best Walks in the English Countryside" and "English Gardens" from the Sumner Library and lay on my stomach in my room, slowly turning the pages for hours, admiring the beautiful fields of Gloucestershire and Oxfordshire.  Then I discovered a show on PBS called Jonathan Creek.  I loved it.  Not only did I love the adapted theme from Saint-Saens's Danse Macabre (I was probably the only person in the entire Tacoma Young Artists Orchestra who wanted to outwardly scream of excitement when this piece was announced to be on our programme one year, simply because of my love for the television show and not the actual piece itself), I loved Jonathan's curly mop of hair, his absolutely loveable but annoying sidekick Madeleine or "Maddy" but most of all - I was IN LOVE with the windmill he lived in. 

I thought my obsession with Jonathan Creek would be something I'd outgrow, like my obsession with Weezer or Claire's Accessories (American girls, you know what I'm talking about).  But weeks before I was due to touch down at SeaTac Airport this past Christmas, I found myself placing holds on Jonathan Creek Series 1-4 from the Pierce County Library's website and when I found myself unable to sleep due to jet-lag, I'd pop in a DVD and watch an episode.  Then it turned into a problem.  I started watching episodes back to back, lounging around on our couch at home in the family room, surrounded by various drinks and snacks or watching them really early in the morning when I was wide-awake from jet-lag. "Jaime!" my mom would squeal, happily letting herself into my bedroom around 9 a.m.  "Come upstairs for some breakfast!  I'll make you your favorite - French toast." "Not now, mom, I'm kind of WATCHING something," I'd respond tersely, not lifting my eyes from the laptop screen.  In fact, when I finally did take my eyes away, I had a sort of glazed over expression that wouldn't subside, no matter how much I tried to snap out of it.  The height of my viewing over-indulgence occurred when I had several dreams about starring in different episodes of Jonathan Creek.  Perhaps I wanted to be Maddy (note: I'm fiercely loyal to Caroline Quentin, so I have a hard time enjoying the later episodes as I spend the whole time critiquing the performances of the other female sidekicks and lamenting the fact that Caroline Quentin wasn't there).  I forced my dad to watch an episode with me, even though he said he preferred Midsomer Murders.  In the end, he conceded it was "ok", which is basically like saying it deserved an Oscar in my dad's-speak.  I was so pleased.  In the meantime, I'll settle for this boxset.

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