I miss
Stargate; I'm again watching
Stargate Universe, but a) that's not really the same (feels like a
different universe than SG-1 and SGA) and b) they're on hiatus. Still,
Stargate keeps popping up in odd places.
At church: we've had a visiting priest. He has rather a mixed accent: he grew up in one place and served much of his ministry in another, and Tampa is yet a third. There may be others as well. I'm not much bothered by accents. But the first time he mentioned "Murray, Mother of God," I about had a cow. I could only think of Teal'c
and his explanation to Vala of the one case in history he knew where a child had a mother but no father! I have managed not to laugh
out loud in church.
At the bike store: Brilliant Husband went to the Trek store. I've been there a few times (almost always buying things for him). He commented that the man in the room where he'd tried out a bike looked "Like that Tok'ra... um...." "Jacob?" "No, the one who was interested in Sam." "
Martouf?!" "Yeah. That one." "Oh, my gosh! I have to start going to the Trek store on weekdays!" (For those of you not in
SG-1 fandom,
pictures here and
here and
here.) (I did once see a medievalist who looked enough like Martouf, in certain light and from a particular angle, that I had trouble focusing on his paper! Sadly, I've only seen him once and have now forgotten his name.)
The Sarah Jane Adventures: Yes, Small Child has finally begun watching SJA again (so we can watch too). If you haven't seen "Secrets of the Stars" Part Two and don't want spoilers, don't look. Otherwise,
go to the preview on YouTube and tell me what you see at 8, 20, and 27 seconds. (There's also a still at the top of
this page.) BH and I were dying laughing.
Finally, a
Primeval moment: I got a packet in the mail from
James Murray. This one is actually James Murray, medieval historian and now ringmaster of the circus that is the International Congress on Medieval Studies in Kalamazoo, Michigan every May; I get mailings in his name regularly. They never fail to make me smile, at the very least. (My colleagues don't even raise an eyebrow any more when I sporfle at my mail as I collect it from my box. "It's just the medievalist again.") I have no idea what he looks like, and I'm hoping not to find out (though I could have picked at least two of his predecessors out of a line-up once). It's just much more fun to think of him as looking like Stephen Hart. (And if a medievalist can look like Martouf, why not?)